7

When I walked out of the stairwell, Jemma was waiting outside. Upon seeing me, she began to look anxious, her eyes wide and reddened, like startled rabbits.

"Miss Lewis, please don't harm my child," she pleaded, folding her hands together in front of her chest and gazing at me with desperation. "I'll leave with Lucas. Please, don't hurt him."

"Don't talk nonsense. Where can you go?" Zac stepped forward, protecting Jemma in his embrace. "With me here, who would dare to harm you both?"

It was clear whom that statement was directed at, and a wave of sadness washed over me. My eyes welled up with bitterness.

"I'm sorry for interrupting," I managed to say.

"Does the child know his mother is a mistress and that he's a bastard?" I asked, my words piercing through the tense atmosphere.

Jemma's face turned pale instantly. She clung to Zac's sleeve, her gaze pleading with him. "He's not... he's not..."

She bit her lip, looking helpless and fragile. Her teary-eyed expression was truly pitiable. Z