5. Sown in Sin

​Three months of exile in the pavilion had passed.

​Sara no longer tracked time by the calendar, but by the bruises that slowly faded from her arms. Yet, something felt wrong. Her gaunt frame now felt heavier. The nausea that struck every morning was not merely a side effect of her husband's abuse. It was a clear sign.

​She had missed her period.

“Sara, are you alright?” Her father knocked on the door, his voice laced with anxiety.

“I'll be out in a moment, Dad.”

She sat on the cold bathroom floor, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the sink. She was certain she was pregnant. The seed of the man who came to her room every night—not to offer affection, but to assert his dominance—was taking root.

​She stood up weakly, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes had lost their spark, and now, a new life was growing within a womb she was supposed to protect.

​The bedroom door opened. Her frail father reached for her hand gently, but his eyes could not hide the fear that haunted them daily. 

Damon didn't touch Albert. He intentionally let the old man hear Sara’s sobs through the walls. It was the cruelest torture to listen to his daughter being broken while unable to do anything.

“Hang in there, my dear,” Albert whispered, his rough fingers stroking the back of Sara’s hand. There was a forced glimmer of hope behind his thin smile. “I’ve found someone who can get us out of this cursed place.”

​Sara looked at her father, her eyes brimming with tears. She wanted to hug him longer, to tell him she loved him, but the fear of the guards listening kept her silent.

“I trust you, Dad,” she whispered.

​That hope was more than just empty comfort. Moments after their suffocating breakfast, the pavilion's doors swung open.

​The atmosphere shifted. The guards, who usually secured the entrance with rigid vigilance, suddenly stepped aside, bowing their heads deeply. They dared not block the way, for the man approaching was Roger Moretti.

​Although Roger was Victor Moretti's legitimate son, everyone in the pavilion knew which way the wind blew. Victor openly favored Damon as his heir, leaving Roger in a precarious position filled with cold rivalry. The tension between Damon’s guards and Roger’s faction was always at a boiling point.

​Yet, in Roger's presence, Damon’s guards were powerless. Roger’s bloodline was a barrier they could not cross. Even though they were loyal to Damon, they were not bold enough to stop Victor’s biological son without Damon’s direct order.

​Roger strode inside, ignoring the wary stares and silent intimidation from the guards. He walked with calculated calm, enjoying the unease he created in his adoptive brother’s territory.

“Poor Sterling family,” Roger stated flatly. “Albert, it seems we need to talk about your daughter’s future beyond Damon’s control.”

​Sara felt her father tense beside her. She clung to his arm protectively. “Who is this man, Dad?”

​“He is someone who promises us our freedom. Roger, your husband’s adoptive brother,” Albert whispered.

​Roger’s eyes narrowed as his lips curled into a sly smile. “I won't harm your father. But we can't talk here, under your husband’s roof.”

​Sara couldn't trust anyone from the same world as her husband. But she could read the situation well. Roger likely had a poor relationship with Damon, given their status, and the guards looked at him with visible apprehension.

She finally allowed Roger to take Albert away after he handed her a small object. “I hope you aren't carrying my adoptive brother’s seed.”

​Unbeknownst to Sara, behind a large pillar bordering the living room, one of Iris's loyal maids stood frozen. She had watched Sara hold the pregnancy test with trembling hands and terrified eyes. She had watched Sara use it, then toss it into the trash.

​As soon as Sara headed toward her room, the maid wasted no time. She retrieved the test from the bin and slipped out of the pavilion, running as fast as she could along the path to the main manor where Iris resided.