The room was tense.
Sharp. Dangerous.
Vivian, Sebastian, Jackson, and Cynthia faced each other.
Cynthia held a thick folder, sliding it across the table with a calm smile.
"Medical report," she said. "Shows I'm pregnant. Dated the period I was… your fake girlfriend."
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. Calm, sharp, but his voice carried steel. "Prove it. Show me when I supposedly slept with you."
Cynthia laughed. Soft. Cold. But with an edge. "Oh, Sebastian… do you really want me to recount it?"
Vivian's fingers tightened. She stayed quiet, watching.
Cynthia continued, leaning back. "I remember. You, night after night, taking me to parties in your London mansion. Sleeping with me every night while Vivian was on the run. Every smile, every drink, every touch… all recorded in my mind."
Sebastian's lips twitched—but not a full smile. "You say that… but which date? Which night? Which party? No photos. No evidence. Nothing exists."
