The Rejected True Heiress (Liora and Callum) novel Chapter 371

There was no response. I heard my father snort. I didn’t look up.

Finally, my mother said, “Why?”

“Bianca is going to have a baby.”

I heard my mother’s sharp inhale. “Your baby?”

“Whose else would it be?”

There was another long silence. I waited to hear the inevitable: that laugh of my father’s, followed by being told to get the fuck off their property. I waited, and I didn’t lift my head.

But to my surprise, none of that came.

“Stand up,” my father said. His voice was low and cold.

I stood.

My father’s hand met my face before I could fully find my footing. Pain exploded through my skull. My vision went white for a moment, and I fell back on my ass, my palms catching me against the ground.

I blinked, looking up to see my father towering over me. He calmly wiped his hand on his trousers.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” he said, “here’s how this is going to go.”

My jaw clenched, but I remained silent.

“You are going to sign a formal contract agreeing to marry that girl,” my father hissed. “You are going to get that dowry, and you are not to breathe a word of our debts to anyone. Then, and only then, will we agree to endorse that little bastard child of yours. Do we have a deal?”

My wolf went wild again. Every instinct in me was screaming to turn down the offer, to get up off my ass and walk away with what little pride I had left. I could work if I needed to support the child. I’d pay for the expenses. I didn’t need to marry Bianca, child or not. I could still be a good, supportive father without that.

Finally, the contract was written, printed out on fresh paper still warm from the printer. My father signed first. My mother next. Then, the pen was handed to me.

I took it, hovering over the line where my name was supposed to go.

For a moment, I saw a face flicker through my mind. Not Bianca’s, but Liora’s. Those eyes full of betrayal and hurt and hatred.

She would definitely hate me now. I couldn’t entirely blame her. But the feeling, at the moment, was mutual.

Clenching my teeth, I signed my name with a flourish.

The moment the pen lifted from the paper, my father snatched the contract away and filed it.

“There,” he said, standing. “Now get out of my house, and get to work planning that wedding.”