Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 247

Willa accidentally locked gazes with his bloodshot eyes, recognizing the dangerous storm brewing within them.

Her chest tightened. Terrified he would lose control, she quickly spoke over him. "No, my baby is taking my last name."

Randal's brows locked in a fierce knot. "Willa..."

"You promised me," Willa interrupted, her voice unconsciously rising. "You said you would let me leave. My baby has nothing to do with you."

Randal just stared at her, his lips trembling. He was teetering on the edge of a breakdown, yet fighting with everything he had to maintain his composure.

Willa's heart was brutally cleaved in two—half bleeding for his pain, the other half suffocated by reality.

A voice in her head screamed at her to stop: *Don't push him anymore, he's already suffering.*

But another voice, sharper and more frantic, fired back: *If he doesn't agree to this, the Yates family will absolutely take your child. You can't fight billionaires on your own.*

Gritting her teeth, Willa repeated the devastating blow. "The baby isn't even yours. What gives you the right to demand they take the Yates name?"

She couldn't find any other leverage to force him to back down. Delivering those agonizing words felt like carving out her own heart in the process.

Randal's face turned ashen. When he spoke, his voice was hollow.

"Willa, please stop talking."

"Why shouldn't I? I stayed by your side without a title, mocked by the entire world. And now you want to steal my baby from me? Randal, what gave you the right to treat me like this?"

Randal reached out, desperate to touch her, but Willa instinctively flinched away.

His hand froze in midair. After a long, agonizing pause, he slowly let it drop.

She whipped her head away, refusing to look at him, terrified that one more glance would make her cave.

"Willa." Randal stepped closer, gently but firmly taking her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Do you know why I want the baby to have the Yates name?"

Willa lowered her gaze, maintaining her stubborn silence.

"Okay," she nodded. "I'll stay inside."

Randal finally exhaled. He pulled her back into his arms, holding her tighter and tighter.

Willa had no idea how long they stayed like that, locked in a desperate embrace, until Mrs. Gable walked in and cleared her throat awkwardly. Only then did Randal finally let her go.

Over the next few days, even though Randal used his connections to suppress the worst of the media coverage, a suffocating tension hung in the air.

Willa had naively assumed that once the malicious threads were deleted, the nightmare would end.

She had severely underestimated the viciousness of high society, and more importantly, the calculating malice of the person orchestrating it all.

It started with her creator account getting mass-reported.

The comment section shifted from praising her crafts to launching personal attacks on her character.

Then, someone dug up photos from her old overseas social media accounts, taking them entirely out of context and pairing them with vile, inflammatory captions.