Chapter 2
Michael felt a sudden pang in his chest, but he buried it ruthlessly, refusing to let it show.
"How could I ever regret handling a bastard like that? You killed my child, Sophie killed yours. Now we're square. From now on, let's just live our lives. As for Sophie, I won't let her cross your path again," he said coldly.
"Square? Just move on?" Charlotte echoed softly, unable to believe how ridiculous it all sounded.
The bastard child his side chick was carrying.
And the baby she went through hell to bring into this world for him.
How could that make them even?
He was not fit to call it even.
After what he'd done to her, how could he possibly expect them to just move on and live happily ever after?
How could he even dream of things going back to normal between them?
Right now, all she wanted was for everyone who hurt her baby to pay with their lives.
Charlotte stared at Michael, her eyes burning with pure hatred.
"I swear, I'll make you all pay for this," she spat, her voice cold and full of venom.
Michael's grip on her hand tightened. Over some bastard child, she was actually turning against him.
He stared at her, her face ghostly pale, eyes blazing with hatred that could burn right through him.
For a brief moment, regret stabbed through Michael. Had he really been too cruel?
But he shoved that feeling deep down, refusing to let it surface.
It was not his fault.
Charlotte had wronged him first. She had made a fool of him.
How could she be so heartless?
He would never raise another man's child.
That child had to die.
Besides, she owed Sophie this much.
He just never thought Sophie would be so ruthless.
But whatever, he'd already told Sophie, from now on, he'd stick with Charlotte.
He'd make it up to Charlotte, no matter what.
Even if she could never have kids again, he'd be there for her.
As for Sophie, she'd been with him, even been pregnant with his child, though the baby never made it. He still felt a lingering sense of guilt toward her.
"Sophie went too far this time. I'll take the blame for her," he said.
With that, he grabbed the fruit knife from the nightstand.
He stabbed it deep into his own arm.
He grunted in pain.
"This one's to pay her debt," Michael said, his voice cold and resolute.
Then, in one swift motion, he drove the blade into his arm again.
"And this one's for me," he added, his voice just as cold, just as determined.
Charlotte's eyes burned even redder, brimming with unshed tears.
Her mind was instantly pulled back to the day she found out Michael had cheated.
Michael stood there, shielding Sophie with his body, refusing to let anyone near her.
"Lottie, this is all on me. It has nothing to do with Sophie. If you're angry, if you hate someone, take it out on me," he said, his voice steady but full of guilt.
Charlotte stared at him coldly, at the man who once promised to protect her for life, but now was shielding Sophie under his wing.
A sudden wave of metallic sweetness surged up her throat, but she forced it back down with sheer willpower.
Her gaze swept across the coffee table, locking onto the fruit knife next to the fruit bowl.
"Since you're so ready to shoulder the blame, show me your sincerity," Charlotte said, her voice cold as ice.
With a flick of her finger, the knife slid across the polished surface and dropped to the floor at Michael's feet.
Michael's eyes shifted from her face to the cold glint of the blade, without a second's hesitation.
He bent down, picked it up, and gripped the handle in one fluid motion.
With a sharp stab, the blade plunged into his side.
Blood started soaking through his white shirt, spreading fast and turning it a glaring red.
"Michael!" Sophie shrieked, rushing over and clutching his wrist desperately, tears streaming down her face.
"Why are you so foolish? You don't have to do this for me. Let her hit me, yell at me, let her do whatever she wants, just don't do this..." she sobbed, her voice breaking.
"Fine," Charlotte said, her voice airy and sarcastic, cutting Sophie off mid-sob.
She turned to Sophie, her eyes icy and devoid of warmth.
"Go on, do what Michael did, stab yourself. If you can manage that, maybe I'll consider sparing you," Charlotte said, her voice cold as steel.
"Charlotte!" Michael growled, enduring the pain. "Sophie's pregnant. Don't torment her."
He was gasping for air, his blood-soaked hand trembling as he pressed it to his left chest, right over his heart.
"I told you, this is all on me. If you still can't let it go—" Michael said, his voice rough with pain.
"Just say the word, and I won't even flinch," he added, his eyes locked on hers.
Her eyes went bloodshot in an instant.
It wasn't from tears. Her gaze was red and fierce, veins burning with the fury and despair that had pushed her right to the edge.
She stared Michael down, and he stared right back, locked in a fierce standoff, neither one backing down.
It was a silent standoff, neither of them willing to look away first, neither willing to back down.