Isabella lowered her gaze, her hand tightening over her stomach until her knuckles went white. "Unfortunately... I am."
"Unfortunately?" Olivia's voice was a low, dangerous rasp. "What is wrong with you, Isabella?"
Isabella swallowed hard, the bitterness coating her tongue. She looked up, her eyes bloodshot and desperate. "I know this is a madness to ask, but... do you have anything? A medicine, an herb—you would know better than I. Anything to... to end this. To stop this child from coming."
The words had barely left her lips when Olivia's hand cracked across her face.
The slap was sharp, a sudden explosion of sound in the stifling room. Isabella's head snapped to the side, her skin blooming a violent red. Olivia stared down at her, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated loathing.
"Never," Olivia hissed, her voice trembling with a rage that seemed to vibrate in the very air. "Never make that request again."
