Vampire's Veil Of Obsession-Chapter 69: His Child

The moment those words left Lucas's mouth, Lilia felt her entire world blur. Ava?

It was like a dagger straight to her heart. As if Ava's presence here wasn't already a deep enough wound, now she was hearing that Ava was pregnant—with her husband's child.

She smiled bitterly. 'What had I been expecting?'

Zethan, of all people. Loyal. He had said it himself, yet she... Hadn't he said so himself?

A dry laugh almost escaped her lips, but she swallowed it back. Instead, she moved in silence. She reached for the wire before the hairdryer could slip from her grasp, tying it with precision. Then, carefully, she placed it over the table before walking toward the bed.

She had no idea what Zethan was saying to Lucas next.

She didn't care.

She didn't want to care.

Her mind raced, but her body felt oddly detached, as if she were floating above herself, watching from a distance. Would Zethan now be forced to marry Ava? Or would he simply give child support, fulfilling his duty without a second thought?

Why couldn't she have a happy life? Whenever things seemed normal, something always had to ruin it.

Lilia lay on the bed and turned onto her side, curling inward.

She didn't want to think. She didn't want to feel.

She simply lay there, silent.

Not crying. Not trembling. Just there.

It wasn't as though she hadn't heard the rumors. That day, whispers had followed her like shadows, slithering into her ears no matter how much she tried to block them out.

She had wanted to believe they were lies.

But they weren't.

A slow, deliberate creak of the door closing echoed in the room.

Her body stiffened.

Had Zethan left to check on his ex-fiancée?

Or had he closed the door to lie back down?

She refused to wonder. Refused to care.

Zethan moved toward the bed. His gaze flickered across the dimly lit room before settling on her. She wasn't sitting at the table anymore. She was lying down, her back to him, motionless.

Something about her stillness made him uneasy.

He hesitated before moving closer, reaching out to her.

When his arms encircled her waist, he expected resistance—expected her to push him away, slap his hands, or at the very least, stiffen under his touch.

But she didn't.

She didn't move at all.

This was what he had been avoiding. He knew she usually did this when she was angry, but he hadn't expected her to still act this way.

His grip tightened slightly, and his voice came softer than intended. "Lilia."

She remained silent for a long while before finally speaking.

"Can we talk tomorrow?" Her voice was calm. Composed. Too composed. "I'd really like to rest."

Zethan exhaled, his fingers twitching against her. He wanted to demand her attention, he wanted to know her thoughts what she wanted.

Instead, he asked, "Do you believe she is carrying my child?"

A bitter smile stretched across her lips as she finally turned to look at him.

Reaching for his hands, she slowly, deliberately removed them from her waist.

Zethan's eyes widened.

What he saw in her gaze was not the usual warmth, not even the exhaustion he had expected.

What stared back at him was something darker.

A hidden hatred. Suppressed, but there.

It wasn't the kind of hatred born from anger—it was the kind that came from heartbreak.

The kind that lingered, even when one wanted to let it go.

"Loris...." Zethan started, but she cut him off.

"Where is she?"

Zethan blinked. "What?"

"Where is she?" she repeated, her voice eerily steady.

His frown deepened. "She's downstairs."

So he made her go downstairs, which meant he wasn't entirely sure if she was carrying his child, as the probability was only 50-50.

Lilia's bitter smile widened as she shifted her gaze moving to the ceiling.

She bit her lip hard enough to sting.

"Haven't I warned you not to do that?" Zethan's voice was sharp, tinged with frustration as he noticed the way she bit her lips.

Lilia merely looked at him before rolling her eyes.

Zethan stared at her, stunned.

And then, to his disbelief, she turned to the other side again, her back facing him.

His pulse quickened.

Why was she acting like this?

It wasn't like her to but—

No.

It wasn't like her.

At least... she should have asked for an explanation. Yelled at him. Fought with him.

Anything.

But this silence? This detachment?

It unsettled him more than any outburst ever could.

"Lilia," he said firmly. "Face me."

She didn't answer.

"I don't want to." Her voice was quiet but firm. "Tell Ava to face you."

His breath hitched.

Something twisted in his chest.

Why did those words bother him so much? Why did they make his stomach churn?

And then, just as his hands moved toward her waist again, she flinched.

Zethan stilled, his fingers curling into his palm.

Before he could process it, she climbed off the bed.

"Loris—"

"I'll sleep on the sofa tonight," she said, her voice light, almost casual. Too casual. "You can have the bed. It's all yours."

Her lips curled into something resembling a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Besides, sleeping too comfortably could be an act of laziness. Better to stretch my bones a little. Who knows? Maybe they'll crack when I stand tomorrow."

She turned before he could respond, already moving toward the couch.

Zethan shot up from the bed.

"Don't." His voice was low. Commanding. "Come back to bed, Lilia."

"If you're worried, don't be." She didn't even turn to look at him. "I'll grab a duvet."

She reached for one, but before she could take another step, he moved.

"Then I, too, would like to exercise my bones." Zethan's voice was steady, but there was an underlying warning in it. "Now go back to bed, Lilia. Don't test my patience."

At that, she finally turned.

But instead of the reaction he was expecting, she let out a breathless, humorless laugh.

"And you won't test mine?" Her eyes held a sharp, cutting edge.

"Lilia—"

"I said go to bed." Her voice hardened. "It's all yours."

Zethan clenched his jaw.

He knew what she was doing.

She wasn't just rejecting the bed.

She was rejecting him.

He wanted to grab her, shake her, make her look at him—really look at him—but instead, he forced himself to stay still.

"If you had asked me, Zethan—" She paused. Her voice wavered, but just for a second. "—if you had asked me before this, I might have fought for this marriage."

The words cut deeper than they should have.

"But now?" She gave him a tight smile. "Congratulations. You're going to be a father."

His stomach twisted.

Lilia turned away once more, clutching the duvet as though it was the only thing anchoring her.

Zethan's hands curled into fists.

He had to say something. Had to fix this before it was too late.

"Then fine," he said suddenly. "I'll sleep on the sofa with you."

She shook her head immediately. "No, I don't want you to."

"Lilia—"

"Please," she cut him off. "Go check on Miss Ava. She'll need all the attention she can get during this period."

She rolled her eyes again, but her voice betrayed her pain.

Zethan sucked in a breath.

He was taken aback.

He should have expected this.

He should have.

But nothing had prepared him for the way those words felt like a slap to the face.

"Loris...," he tried again, his voice quieter this time, almost uncertain.

But she was already turning her back to him.

And for the first time in his life—

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Zethan had no answer.

Lilia's voice was eerily calm, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, as if holding herself together. "You're a rich man, Zethan. I'm sure you have plenty of houses." Her tone was devoid of warmth, her golden brown eyes cold and unreadable. "If you plan to let that woman live under this roof, then fine—I'll leave. If you want peace for both of us, get her a house. You can pay child support after all... the baby is yours."

Her words sliced through the thick silence like a blade.

Zethan's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides as he forced himself to meet her gaze.

"You don't trust me," he said quietly.

Lilia let out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, really?" Her golden eyes burned with something he couldn't quite decipher—anger, betrayal, hurt? "When you were making out with her, did you forget you were supposed to 'trust the process'?" She tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a cold, mirthless smile. "And, Mr. Zethan," her tone sharpened, the edge of it like a knife, "could we please shift the date of our wedding? I refuse to be someone's second."

The air between them grew suffocating, so thick with unspoken emotions that it was hard to breathe.

Zethan took a step forward, but Lilia didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't yield.

She only looked at him, her expression unreadable, her fingers curling against her sleeves as though holding herself back from breaking completely.

Then, her voice cracked.

"I'm sorry... sorry for causing trouble. Sorry for being a burden. She's given you what you wanted—someone to honey as you are now a father."

Zethan stiffened. That word—"honey"—it rolled off her tongue so sweetly, yet it felt so painfully out of place. Like a blade wrapped in silk.

His chest tightened, a suffocating weight pressing down on him, but he didn't know how to respond.

Lilia's gaze flickered downward for a moment before she spoke again, her voice softer this time, yet trembling with restrained emotion.

"I don't think I can handle this....." she whispered. "I don't want any more disagreements. You have a child now... with her."

She took a shaky breath, then lifted her eyes to meet his.

And in that moment, Zethan felt something inside him crack.

"Let's get a divorce, Zethan Lyall."