Chapter 2: Unworthy of having my child

(Lyra’s POV)

“Why did it have to be me?”

I pressed my hand against my abdomen as I made my way out of the hospital. The weight of the ultrasound report in my bag felt like a stone pressing into my chest, suffocating me with each step I took.

Pregnant.

It didn’t feel like a miracle. It didn’t feel like something that should bring joy. All I could feel was fear—fear of what this child would mean for me, for my already broken life.

I’d never wanted to be in this position. I had no desire to bring a child into a world like this, especially not when I wasn’t even sure I could protect it. If this baby had been given the chance to find parents who could love and nurture it, then maybe it would have a chance at life. But I… I wasn’t sure I was capable of being a mother, not under these circumstances.

The memories of how I got here made my stomach churn. It was Rhys. It always came back to him. The reason I was in this mess was his cold, vengeful desire. All because of something my mother did years ago.

I could still remember the words my stepmother had sneered at me when I was just a child. She had said, “Your mother’s affair with a wealthy man led to her death. She was nothing but a mistress who ruined a marriage, and now you’re nothing but the product of that disgrace.”

That man—Rhys’s father—was the one who caused it all. My mother had died in a crash with him, her life nothing more than a tragic mistake. My father never spoke about it, never even acknowledged her death. He couldn’t even look at me without seeing her betrayal.

I was nothing to him.

I was always alone, walking through life as if I didn’t matter to anyone.

I couldn’t bear the thought of what this child might represent to Rhys. He’d never seen me as more than a tool for his revenge. I was his weapon, not his partner. And now, with this child growing inside me, I had no idea what he would do.

As I stumbled into the house, the weight of the situation grew heavier. The silence in the air was thick with unspoken tension. I walked toward the kitchen, grabbed a drink, and sat down to numb my thoughts. But as the hours passed, the gnawing ache in my gut wouldn’t go away.

I couldn’t run from this.

It was only when I looked at the clock and saw that it was already 8:30 PM that I snapped out of my daze. He’d be home soon. Rhys always returned right on time, and I had no doubt he would expect me to please him as usual.

I sighed, my mind spinning. Maybe if I tried to please him, maybe if I gave him what he wanted, we could have a real conversation. A conversation about the baby, about the life growing inside me.

When I saw him sitting on the couch, dressed in that damn tailored suit, I almost faltered. His presence filled the room, demanding attention, suffocating me with that cold, calculated energy he exuded.

His eyes flickered to me, but he didn’t speak.

I tried to smile as I approached him, carrying a cup of tea. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?” I asked softly, sitting beside him. “I thought you might want something to drink.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, his gaze shifted to my face, then quickly down to my hands.

“Do you have something to tell me?” His voice was calm, but I could hear the underlying tension. He was waiting for me to say something.

I hesitated. How was I supposed to bring up the baby? The very thing that might destroy me?

“I was thinking… maybe we should have a child. It could make our home feel… fuller.” I forced the words out, but they sounded hollow, even to me.

A smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “Do you think you’re worthy of carrying my child?” His eyes locked onto mine, cold and calculating.

I swallowed hard, trying to gather my thoughts. “What if I were to get pregnant?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and instantly, I regretted it.

His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t read, but the coldness never left his gaze. “Then you’d get rid of it.”

I felt my stomach drop at the ease with which he spoke. Like it was nothing, like I was nothing.

He leaned back, his fingers steepling as he studied me, his expression blank. “Are you pregnant, Lyra?”

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. The question was too direct, too sharp, and I couldn’t bring myself to answer it. My voice caught in my throat as I fumbled for a response.

“No, I’m not pregnant.” The lie came easily, though I could feel the guilt gnawing at me. “I was just thinking aloud. It gets lonely sometimes, in this big house.”

He seemed to buy it, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced. He set his glass down and stood up, his eyes narrowing as he walked over to the liquor cabinet.

Without a word, he poured himself a drink and handed me a glass. “Drink it,” he ordered, his voice low and firm.

I recoiled, but his eyes were unyielding. “I don’t drink,” I said weakly.

He didn’t seem to care. “You disappointed me yesterday,” he said with a cold edge to his voice, pushing the glass toward me. “You’ll drink this, or there will be consequences.”

I hesitated but reluctantly picked up the glass. I took two small sips, my throat burning with each gulp.

But it wasn’t enough for him. “Finish it,” he growled. “You don’t get to refuse me.”

I choked slightly, the alcohol hitting my throat like fire. I barely managed to finish the drink before he stood up and moved toward me. He pulled me into his arms, his fingers gripping my chin as he forced me to look at him.

“I’m not playing with you, Lyra. If you disobey me again, there will be a price to pay.” His breath was cold against my skin, his grip tightening, and I knew that this was only the beginning.

As I stood there, his face inches from mine, the fear of what he might do next gnawed at me. But what scared me the most was that I didn’t know if I could stop him.

“Please, Rhys. I can’t take this anymore.” The words slipped out, barely a whisper, but they held

more weight than I could have imagined.