Ch. Carrying a Child That’s Not Mine 11 Carrying a Child That’s Not Mine 11

Chapter 11 

“You said you loved Chelsea, but you encouraged Zachary to assault her when she was still pregnant. You said you loved me, yet you married Chelsea. 

“You’ve only ever loved yourself because you’re the most selfish person in this world!” Lucy, throwing in the towel, berated Jonah with a pointed finger. 

A wild, unhinged look began to take over his gaze. “That’s not true at all. I’ve always loved Chelsea from the start. It was you who clouded my judgment. You killed my baby and made Chelsea abandon me!” 

Jonah grabbed Lucy by the hair and, without hesitation, slammed her head against the coffee table. A loud crack echoed through the room as the table shattered, and bright red blood began streaming down from her head. 

Lucy struggled to rise, but Jonah pressed her down with a firm stomp to her chest. 

“You made your bed,” he said coldly, “now lie in it.” 

He then pulled out a knife, letting the blade glide over her abdomen. 

“No! You should look for Chelsea instead! She was the one who sold your company and villa! She caused your downfall! Here–I’ll tell you where she is!” 

At that, his hand froze midair. 

News broke at dawn. A fire had erupted in a villa during the night. Flames devoured the home, and a man and a woman perished inside. 

After leaving the scene, Jonah drove straight to the city’s outskirts. 

The night wind was unusually cold. I sat in the corridor, quietly watching the sleeping child’s peaceful face inside the room, a soft smile spreading across my lips. 

By the time Jonah arrived at the place Lucy had mentioned, daylight had already broken. He looked up and was stunned to find himself standing in front of a welfare center. 

In the courtyard, several children were playing games. Their laughter rang out as they chased after me, all vying for my attention. To them, my gaze held nothing but gentle warmth. 

As I turned and looked in his direction, Jonah instinctively ducked into the shadows like a guilty thief. He watched me from a distance, and seeing that motherly tenderness on my face, he could think of nothing but the baby he had lost. 

At that moment, he realized he didn’t even have the courage to step forward and ask me why.” 

“Ms. Cullen, do you have any 

children?” a kid suddenly asked, tugging my hand. 

I touched my belly, and a bead of tear suddenly rolled down my cheek. “I used to have one, but he became an angel and eventually flew away.” 

My words were shaped like a knife, digging mercilessly into Jonah’s heart. He looked at me with deep reluctance, his gaze lingering as if trying to memorize my face. 

In the end, he still walked away, wandering to the beach alone. 

“When are we getting married, Jonah?” 

Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed behind him. He turned around, and for a moment, it was as if he saw us, 

“I’m sorry, Chelsea.” He could no longer control his emotions and broke down in tears. 

A set of footsteps closed in on him. 

five years ago. 

“Jonah Sawyer, you’re suspected of murder. Please come with us,” the police officer said, eyeing him warily alongside his colleagues. 

Jonah slowly rose to his feet, his posture resigned, as if accepting his fate. 

“You’ll be good to me forever, right, Jonah? Promise me you’ll never lie to me.” 

“I promise, Chelsea. You’re the only one I’ll ever love in this lifetime.” 

In his ears echoed the promises we made to each other in our youth, one after another. 

Jonah glanced at the vast ocean behind him and, without hesitation, jumped. It was a suicide, driven by the weight of his own guilt. 

By the time I saw the news, I was about to board a plane. 

The address Lucy had revealed to Jonah was something I had intentionally allowed her to know. It was a gamble on whether he still had a sliver of conscience left in him.