He had just shattered everything she was clinging to.
Her voice trembled as she whispered, “How is that all my fault…? I’m—” Her throat tightened. “I’m perfectly fine, Desmond…”
“Oh! It’s my son’s fault? Is that what you are trying to say?” Elizabeth cut in, her voice sharp enough to slice through glass.
“I didn’t say that…”
“Anyway, even if it’s what she means.” Daniella’s voice cut through the tension. “I have evidence to prove that Desmond is perfectly okay. Yesterday, I got my test result. I’m 2 months pregnant for Desmond.”
“Wow! This is such great news!!” Elizabeth’s tone shifted instantly, her cold glare melting into something almost—proud.
“Wow! This is great! I’m going to be a father!!!” Desmond scooped Daniella up, spinning her around like they were the only two people in the world.
“I think now you can finally make up your mind and divorce her for good. You’ve confirmed she’s barren. You’ve wasted your money and strength on her. Enough charity—no more supporting someone useless. Divorce her. Immediately.” Elizabeth turned to Desmond.
“What if I’m pregnant?” Anabel countered, and the room went silent, then Bella burst out in laughter.
“You? Pregnant? Please.” Bella scoffed, stepping forward.
“So Daniella’s pregnant, and now suddenly you want to claim the same? Brother, don’t fall for it. She’s lying—obviously.”
“But I’m telling the truth. That is the good news I was talking about.”
“Anabel, why are you lying?” Daniella spoke up. “I know you don’t want to lose Desmond because of his money, but it shouldn’t make you lie. Just accept the fact that you are barren. You cannot be pregnant.”
“How could you? You think I will fall for your cheap lies?” Desmond asked.
“I’m not lying. I have the test result.” Anabel picked it out of her handbag and stretched out her hand to give it to Desmond, and Daniella snatched it from her.
She scanned through it and shook her head in disgust. “This must be fake,” she said coldly. “I won’t let Desmond fall for this pathetic trick.”
Without hesitation, she tore the test result into pieces—quick, brutal—and let the scraps flutter through the air, landing at Anabel’s feet.
Anabel stared at the torn pieces, her gaze lingering on them for a moment—too drained, too defeated to even consider picking them up.