Who’s the Father My Husband Thinks It’s Not Him

Calla gave me a mocking smile before grabbing my arm and pulling me to the center of the dance floor.

I stopped and looked at her, my face paling as my patience thinned.

"Aren’t you the protagonist tonight?" I asked, my voice cold.

She covered her mouth and let out a soft, smug laugh.

"I’m not like you, sister-in-law. You’re the real star of the show now. So many people lining up just to be near you!"

My fists clenched tightly as the image of that schedule on Alaric’s phone flashed through my mind again. A lump of nausea rose in my throat.

"I’m not feeling well. I’m going home," I muttered, already turning to leave.

I felt stripped bare in this crowd, exposed to their leering eyes and veiled laughter. Humiliation tightened around me like a noose—I just wanted to disappear.

But before I could step away, Calla blocked my path with a look of faux innocence.

"Oh dear, did I upset you? If it’s my fault, then I apologize..."

She pouted slightly, clutching a glass of champagne, her voice full of affected grievance.

Alaric stepped in immediately, snatching the glass from her hand.

"You're on your period, you shouldn’t drink," he said gently.

Then, without hesitation, he turned and held the glass out to me.

"Seraphine, I’ve let go of the past—you forcing Calla to leave for abroad—but this is her celebration party. Who are you trying to humiliate with that face?"

"Drink this. Apologize. Move on."

I stared at the glass, my heart pounding in my chest.

"I’m pregnant," I said slowly, my voice thick with disbelief. "And you’re telling me to drink alcohol?"

He dismissed my concern with a wave of his hand.

"It’s just a glass of champagne. I already asked the doctor. You’re eight months along, the baby’s stable. One drink won’t hurt."

I pushed his hand away.

"I’m not drinking. I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t owe anyone an apology."

Alaric’s expression darkened at once.

"Seraphine, I’ve already given you enough respect tonight. Don’t test me."

"Brother, don’t be so harsh."

Calla stepped in with a gentle smile, offering me a glass of water instead.

"Dear, don’t take it to heart. Drink some water and calm down. Alaric didn’t mean to upset you."

I took the glass from her hand. The water looked clear, harmless.

"Can I go upstairs and rest after this?" I asked softly.

She nodded sweetly.

I downed the water in one gulp. The warmth slid down my throat—but almost immediately, something felt wrong.

Heat spread through my body. A fire under my skin. My limbs turned heavy. My nerves sparked and trembled like worms crawling inside me.

"What... did you give me?" I choked out.

My knees buckled. The world tilted. And then I collapsed—right into someone's arms.

Through blurred vision, I saw Cassian’s face leering over mine, his hands already touching places they shouldn’t.

"Calla, you really outdid yourself this time. Sleeping pills made her limp like a corpse. But this..." He licked his lips, eyes gleaming.

"This is so much more fun."

Calla stood beside him, watching me with smug satisfaction.

"It’s a new drug—foreign. It’s called Obedience Serum. She’ll forget everything by morning. No matter what happens, she won’t remember a thing."

"Play however you like."

"Let me go!"

I screamed with the last scrap of strength I had, but my body wouldn’t respond. My limbs wouldn’t move. I could only stare helplessly at Alaric, silently pleading for a trace of mercy.

He looked at me—expressionless, unmoved—and turned to Cassian.

"Just be careful. She’s still pregnant, and the baby’s part of our million-dollar bet."

My heart shattered.