When Two Winters Met (Henrietta and Yosef) novel Chapter 227

From the outside, it was hard to see clearly, just the dark, ghost-like silhouette of a person within. Henrietta found herself walking to the car and knocking on the window.

Artina frowned, then lowered the window, her face a mask of fear.

"You should have some self-awareness and let him go while you still can," Henrietta said, her voice cold. "You know better than anyone whether you're worthy of Jethro, and what your true intentions are."

Artina’s eyes widened in terror as she watched Henrietta turn and walk away, with Calvert following closely behind her.

A wave of panic washed over Artina, and she subconsciously clutched her stomach. She couldn't shake the feeling that Henrietta was targeting her with a specific, malicious intent. Could she know? Could Henrietta possibly know about her pregnancy?

No, it was impossible! Only she and Matteo knew. She had used a fake ID at the clinic and had been completely disguised. How could Henrietta possibly find out? Unless… unless she was being followed.

The car door opened suddenly, and Jethro slid into the seat beside her. The sound made Artina jump, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. No, Henrietta couldn't know. She was just being hateful, trying to crush her and make her feel unworthy of Jethro.

"What did she say to you?" Jethro asked, but his gaze immediately fell to where Artina's hand was still pressed against her abdomen.

She hadn't even realized she was doing it. Her eyes filled with tears, and she put on a wounded expression. "She said… I don't deserve you. That I should have some self-respect and leave you before it's too late."

Jethro’s face hardened. "Don't listen to her. Whether you leave or not is my decision."

His protective tone was reassuring, but then his voice softened with concern. "What's wrong with your stomach?"

Artina's eyes widened. She looked down, quickly pulling her hand away and shaking her head. "Nothing, it's nothing."

"Then why were you holding it like that?" he pressed, worried. "Does it hurt? We should go to the hospital."

He leaned forward and told the driver, "To the hospital."

"Yes, sir." The driver started the car.

Artina's face went pale. She grabbed Jethro's arm, her voice frantic. "I'm fine, really! Jethro, you don't need to worry, it's not a big deal. I don't want to go to the hospital."

She then turned to the driver. "Take us back to the villa. We're not going to the hospital."

She was practically radiating panic.

"Even if your stomach is fine, we should get your face looked at," Jethro insisted, his gaze softening as he looked at her swollen cheeks. Calvert was a large, skilled man; those slaps were not light.

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