The next second, a man's voice so cold it had no warmth rang out.
"How can I be sure that child is mine, and not Norman York's? Skye Brown, you don't actually think, that I, Dylan Wellington, can be fooled that easily... that anyone can just pass their burden onto me."
Skye Brown's breath hitched, her heart almost stopping for a moment.
Even though she had long lost hope in this man, and even though she knew Dylan Wellington was a scumbag, she never dreamed he would say something so despicable!
"Dylan Wellington, do you even know what you're saying? Pass the burden... ha, you're not just insulting me, you're insulting your son, you..."
"Whether he's my son or not isn't certain yet." Dylan Wellington's icy voice came through, indifferent and decisive, filling Skye with despair.
