When Olivia Wynne returned to the military compound, the courtyard gate was open.
The first thing she saw upon entering was William Wynne’s Jeep.
Her gaze lingered on the vehicle for a moment and her steps faltered slightly, but she quickly composed herself and walked toward the house.
In the living room, William Wynne sat ramrod straight.
He looked toward the door when he heard it open.
Olivia Wynne walked heavily into the room, placed her bag on the sofa, and stood across from him.
She asked in a low voice, “Uncle, have you eaten?”
“I have.”
“Sit,” William said in a low voice, gesturing to the sofa opposite him.
William’s expression was impassive, his dark eyes revealing none of his thoughts.
A wave of panic washed over Olivia.
She hesitated for a moment before sitting down across from him.
“Uncle, is there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Yes.”
William replied with a single word, his sharp gaze then falling to Olivia’s stomach.
The man’s deep, dark eyes stared at Olivia for a long while before he finally spoke in a low voice.
“Is the child Zachary Fairchild’s?”
William’s voice was deep, his tone one of certainty. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
‘But I’m the one who should be surprised,’ Olivia thought.
‘I honestly don’t even know who the father is.
After all, while I have memories of that night, I never saw the man’s face, so I have no idea who I was with.’
‘But William is different.
For him to say this now, he must have investigated.’
“I don’t know.”
Sitting across from William, Olivia told the truth.
At her answer, William’s expression soured.
“What?
Is he refusing to take responsibility?”
William asked slowly, his sharp eyes fixed on Olivia.
‘She didn’t know if Zachary Fairchild was willing to take responsibility or not, but deep down, she wanted nothing to do with him.’
Olivia recalled what had happened at lunch, as well as the information she’d looked up about Zachary Fairchild on her phone.
She was certain a man like him was not someone she could afford to get involved with.
After a moment of silence, Olivia found her answer.
She said to William in a low voice, “No, that’s not it.”
William slowly picked up the glass of water from the table, took a sip, and then slowly set it back down.
The atmosphere in the living room grew cold.
William was silent for a long time before his gaze drifted slowly to Olivia.
“What?
You don’t want Zachary Fairchild to take responsibility?”
“Right.”
Her little tricks were useless against him; he’d see right through any attempt at being clever.
So, after only a brief hesitation, she told the truth.’
‘She really didn’t want Zachary Fairchild to take responsibility.’
‘She could raise the child by herself.’
But while that was what she thought, William clearly disagreed.
Hearing Olivia’s answer, a flash of displeasure crossed his eyes.
He stared into her beautiful eyes, his voice turning much colder.
“If you didn’t want him to be responsible, then why couldn’t you control yourself?
Now that you’re pregnant, you either get married or you go to the hospital and get an abortion.”
William’s low, cold words hung in the air, and for a moment, the living room was completely silent.
Olivia could clearly hear her own ragged breathing.
“I don’t want to.”
With a firm, four-word reply, Olivia turned and walked toward her room.
She hurried inside and slammed the door shut with a loud BANG.
Once Olivia had gone to her room, William pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
He took a drag, his eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable.