Chapter 164 The Baby is Vincent’s?!
Ryan
i sat alone in the comer of a dimly lit bar, a half–empty bottle in front of me. A few empties surrounded #t–like shattered promises i didn’t have the strength to pick up.
One hand held up my head, the other lazily spinning the glass between my fingers. My thoughts were a mess, and the weight in my chest made it hard to breathe.
Eric’s words from earlier wouldn’t stop echoing in my head–like some nightmare on loop that 1 couldn’t wake up from
Back in the study, Eric handed me a folder, his face more serious than I’d ever seen it.
“Sir,” he said carefully, “the paternity test results are in.” My heart nearly stopped as I grabbed the
folder from him
I’ve stood my ground in high–profile courtroom showdowns. I’ve spoken to thousands without missing a beat. But in that moment, just holding that thin folder, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
I flipped it open, ignoring all the medical jargon and scanning straight to the final line.
Paternity cannot be established. Ryan Hudson is not the biological father.
I just–froze.
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It hit me like someone sucker–punenso me in the gut.
Before I could wrap my head around it, Eric added quietly, “I’m sorry, sir. The results confirm–you are not the father of Ms. May’s baby.”
For a second, I thought I misheard him.
Gabby’s baby–not mine?
Then whose?
Vincent’s?
My brain scrambled, trying to make sense of it. I flashed back to that night at the gala.
Gabby had stumbled into the lounge, burning up, eyes dazed. Someone had drugged her–we still didn’t know who. She clung to me, desperate, her body trembling, begging me not to leave.
I lost control. I gave in.
That night, we fell into something wild. Something I thought might’ve changed everything.
And based on the timeline, the baby had to have been conceived around then.
I’d been holding onto that silver of hope. I’d let myself believe that maybe–just maybe–the baby was
mine.
But now-
This damn report had shattered that illusion.
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< Chapter 164 The Baby Is Vincent’s?!
The more I wanted it, the harder reality smacked me in the face.
I was wrong.
The baby wasn’t mine.
Gabby was carrying Vincent’s child.
A slow, burning rage spread through my chest. I didn’t want to believe it. I refused to.
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I grabbed Eric by the collar, my voice sharp and desperate. “There’s gotta be a mistake. You screwed up the test, right? Tell me you messed it up!”
Eric didn’t flinch. “I know this is hard, sir,” he said evenly. “But I’ve double–checked everything. The
results are solid.”
I let him go and dropped the report on the desk. My temples pounding. After a pause, he added, softer this time, “Sir, you need to think about your next move. The baby’s growing. If you’re going to be involved, it’s better to decide now–for everyone’s sake.”
I downed the rest of my drink in one shot. It burned like hell, but didn’t even come close to numbing the
pain.
God. What a sick joke.
All this time I’d been fighting so damn hard–holding on to Gabby, manipulating her feelings, lying to her–all because I thought we had a shot.
And in the end, her body had already made the decision for both of us.
She was carrying Vincent’s child.
Which meant that no matter what I did, Vincent would always have a piece of her. A tie that could neve
r break.
A permanent one.
Mothers love their children. Sometimes they’ll throw away their own happiness to protect that love. What if one day Gabby got her memories back and remembered everything?
Would she take the baby–and go back to him?
