The words “I only want one from you” died in his throat. The last shred of his pride kept him from saying them.
“You’ll regret this, Annika,” Conrad said instead.
“The only thing I’d regret is not getting rid of it.” The image of him in bed with Serena, sent by Serena herself, was burned into her mind. She couldn’t believe his nerve—keeping her locked away at Scent Haven while he was sleeping with another woman. Where did that leave her? At first, maybe, deep down, she’d held onto a sliver of hope that they could reconcile. Even after her father’s death, even after all the terrible things Conrad had done, she thought she could endure it for the sake of their child. But that picture, of him holding Serena so tenderly, had shattered that hope completely. That was when she decided.
“Do you really hate me that much?” Conrad asked, unwilling to give up.
“Yes, I hate you. I wish you were dead. We should never see each other again. As for the money the Sargent Group owes the Beryl Group, I’ll pay you back every last cent. Now, Mr. Beryl, I need to rest. Please leave.” Annika stood up, her posture aggressive as she showed him the door.
“Fine.”
There was nothing more to say. A profound sense of desolation washed over Conrad. His gaze turned as sharp and cold as a razor’s edge, and his face became an icy mask. The taut line of his jaw showed he was at the absolute limit of his control. A chilling smile touched his lips. “In that case, don’t ever expect the Beryl Group to lift a single finger for the Sargent Group again. You’re on your own, Annika.”
With that, he left, taking the bitter cold with him.
Lana, who had been listening from around the corner, emerged and watched Conrad’s lonely figure disappear. A flicker of pity crossed her face. She could tell he cared for Annika. “Annika, why did you have to do that?”
“He’s never loved me. It’s better to make a clean break now than to have him abandon me and take my child away after it’s born.”


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