Chapter 11
Zachary didn’t so much as furrow his brows despite hearing Abigail’s blood–curdling screams for help. He was too busy smiling at me.
“I already knew you drugged me that night, Abigail. That baby cannot be allowed to live. Also, I’ve already had someone wipe the rumors you spread online about the Twain Corporation’s madam being infertile.
“You will pay a price for spreading rumors about my wife. The doctor will not be using anesthesia while you’re on that operating table. From this day forward, you will never have children again.”
There was a long pause before the breathless Abigail began to beg for mercy through the phone, frantically stammering, “M–mr. Twain! I wasn’t thinking clearly, Mr. Twain! I didn’t mean it. You can punish me however you want. Just please let our baby go!”
She followed up her pitiful begging with a twisted scream.
I instinctively blinked and frowned at the sound of Abigail’s sudden, terrified screams.
Upon seeing my expression, Zachary immediately hung up the phone.
He took my hand and gently placed it against his cheek, his skin deathly pale. Then, he said affectionately, “Keira, I’ll have them send you a video of the surgery later. Once you’ve seen it with your own eyes, could you maybe forgive me a little?”
Zachary felt that even a shred of forgiveness would be enough for him.
I yanked my hand away, soiled from his touch, and watched his face fall. I gave him an indifferent suggestion.
“This hospital is known for its psychiatric department. You should book an appointment right away.”
Zachary gave me a weak smile.
“Okay. I’ll listen to whatever you say.”
He thought to himself about how much he owed me throughout the past nine years.
But it didn’t matter. He’d realized the error of his ways and was going to spend the rest of his life trying to make up for what he owed.
But three days after that thought crossed his mind, Christopher and I held a grand wedding.
When Zachary caught wind of the news, he drove like a madman to the scene. The gray–haired priest had just read the wedding vows.
He heard it as clear as day when I, dressed in a white wedding gown, smiled at Christopher and said, “I do.”
“No, Keira! Don’t marry him!”
His heart felt like it had stopped as pain surged like an electric jolt. He collapsed to his knees on the bright red carpet. The ever–composed and aloof Zachary had been reduced to acting like a stray dog.
With his knees on the floor, he begged hoarsely, “Sweetheart, don’t leave me. I never wanted a divorce. Please don’t marry another man…”
With undisguised disgust in my eyes, I said condescendingly, “In consideration of Mr. Twain Senior’s wedding gift to me, I’ll begrudgingly forgive your rude interruption of my wedding. But Chris and I do not welcome you to this ceremony. Please go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”
Tears finally streamed down Zachary’s face upon hearing my ruthless words.
“Keira, I was wrong. I know that now. Just give me one last chance. I swear I’ll change… I can’t live without you. I thought about you every single day ever since you left. I dream about all the good you’ve done for me. I love you, Keira. I love you more than anyone ever has…”
He declared his overwhelming love in front of everyone without a care in the world.
Veins bulged across Zachary’s forehead as his emotions boiled over. He tore open his black shirt and pointed at the moon tattoo that was still bleeding, and his eyes burned like coals.
Chapter 12
