Sebastian sat across from her at her kitchen table, hands clasped.
"You're scared," he said, voice quiet but sharp.
"I… I'm trying to handle this alone," she whispered.
"You think you can?" He leaned forward, dark eyes piercing. "You think you can do this without me?"
"I… I have to. I don't need you. I never wanted—"
He slammed his hand on the table. The coffee cup rattled. "Don't lie to me!"
"I'm not lying!" she shouted, tears forming.
"Then why are you running? Why are you hiding? You think money or distance will protect you? It won't. Not from me."
Isabella flinched at his intensity. "You… you don't understand. You don't even know me!"
"I know enough," he said. "I know you. You're stubborn, proud… but scared. And rightfully so. Because the truth will destroy you if you don't face it."
She looked away. "You… you don't even know what it's like… carrying a child alone…"
He leaned back, jaw tight. "Then I'll show you. I'll make sure you never have to face it alone. Whether you like it or not."
Her hands shook. "I don't need your… protection."
"Protection?" His lips curved slightly. "No, Izzy. This isn't protection. This is mine. The moment I knew… the moment I realized, I knew I would claim it. You. The child. You belong to me now."
Her breath caught. "You… you can't… this isn't—"
"It already is," he said softly, dangerously. "And you will learn that soon enough."