?Chapter 681:


    Dominic remained unmoved, his arms crossed as he leisurely closed the distance between them. His tone was merciless. “Gave birth, did you? Then prove it. Bring the child.”


    The woman quaked, her shoulders shaking violently as she scrambled to her feet. After a moment of hesitation, she disappeared into a small wooden hut nearby. When she returned, she held a tiny bundle wrapped in a tattered swaddle.


    I couldn’t hold back any longer. My body moved on its own, rushing forward, my eyes locked on that fragile bundle. A mix of desperation and dread churned in my chest as I reached out, trembling, to uncover the child.


    When the cloth fell away, I froze.


    The baby was heartbreakingly small, his wrinkled face tinged with an unhealthy yellow hue. Sparse, wispy hair clung to his scalp, and his frail body was little more than skin stretched over brittle bones. He barely moved, his eyes shut tight as if conserving what little strength he had.


    A wave of disbelief crashed over me. I had never seen a child so fragile, so withered.


    “Is… Is this really your child?” My voice cracked, rising with a mix of shock and anger.


    The woman nodded frantically, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “Yes, yes, he’s mine! But I—I don’t have enough money. I can barely eat myself, let alone feed him properly. That’s why he’s… he’s a bit malnourished…”


    “Malnourished?” The word seared through me like fire. My hands clenched into fists, my chest heaving with the sheer force of my fury. “This isn’t malnutrition—this is starvation! This child is dying!”


    A surge of protectiveness overtook me. Without thinking, I reached for the child, but the woman jerked back, clutching him tightly to her chest.


    “Give me the child!” I snapped, losing myposure.


    The maid recoiled at my outburst, and for a moment, her grip loosened slightly. Seizing the moment, I darted forward and snatched the child away.


    The child stirred weakly in the swaddle, and for the first time, his eyes fluttered open. Two dark, soulful eyes looked up at me, and then—just barely—he smiled.


    It was the faintest smile, but it pierced straight through me, igniting something raw and aching deep within my chest. I clutched him closer, overwhelmed by the need to protect him, to heal him.


    But as that tender warmth swept over me, a cruel realization struck like a dagger to my heart. The bond I desperately sought—the connection I yearned for—it wasn’t there. The child wasn’t mine.


    I stood frozen, the weight of the truth crushing me, my arms trembling as I held him.


    But then there was the haunting question. If he wasn’t my child, why did his pain ignite such an uncontroble fire in my heart?


    Makenna’s POV:


    I looked at the baby in my arms, on the verge of breaking down. Tears streamed down my cheeks as sorrow washed over me.


    If this wasn’t my child, then where was my child? Was he still alive?


    The maid reached out, trying to take the baby back from me.


    I snapped angrily at her, my voice sharp and trembling. “Leave us alone! How dare you touch this child? Look what you’ve done to him! You don’t deserve to be a mother!”


    “I…” the maid stuttered, her face pale. But then a sh of stubbornness appeared in her eyes as she said, “This is my child. I can raise him however I want. What does it have to do with you?”


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