**Chapter 22** A charged silence filled the air, thick with the weight of unspoken truths as Chelsea leaned closer, her voice dripping with venomous delight. She had chosen this moment, riled by the intensity of Elliot’s ferocity, to turn the dagger deeper into his heart. “Before you took her as your wife, Avery Tate was involved with your nephew, Cole,” she began, her words punctuated by a sly smile. “It’s common knowledge that everyone has a history, but here’s the real kicker—she slept with him even after you two were wed! Can you believe the audacity? She’s turned you into a laughingstock! And I wouldn’t be surprised if they thought you were going to die any moment back then!” Elliot’s fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His expression was devoid of warmth, replaced by an avalanche of fury. Cold, stormy eyes fixated on the maternal health file sprawled on his desk—a harbinger of betrayal. “They schemed to secure your inheritance,” Chelsea continued, with a calculated calm, pushing the knife further. “When the doctors gave you a critical diagnosis, we all assumed your time was short. Imagine if she had gotten pregnant during that chaotic period… All your fortune, falling right into her lap! They orchestrated it perfectly, until you came back to life and shattered their scheme!” “Get out!” Elliot’s voice thundered, shaking the very foundation of the room. The implications of her words twisted his stomach, a sickening knot forming as the notion of public shame threatened to drown him. Chelsea felt a flicker of disappointment, but she recognized the turmoil churning within him. Carefully, she stood and exited, gently closing the door as if to seal the intense atmosphere inside the room. Elliot’s throat constricted, his breath coming in fiery gasps. He loosened his collar, then seized the file, pouring over its contents once again. Each word cut deeper until his gaze landed on Cole’s name—an uncaged beast of vengeance awakened inside him. He had always sensed his brother’s avarice for his fortune, yet the realization that Avery might be a pawn in this twisted game ignited a rage that bubbled over. Memories of a reckless night spent with Avery danced in his mind, stoking the flames of his wrath. Meanwhile, in the master suite of Elliot’s opulent mansion, Avery lay ensconced in sleep, oblivious to the tempest brewing outside her dreams. The tranquility shattered abruptly as the door flung open with a jarring screech, waking her in a haze of confusion. Before she could process her surroundings, a bodyguard lunged forward, yanking her from the confines of her bed. “I’m sorry, Miss Tate!” he exclaimed, urgency lacing his tone as he dragged her from the sheets. “What are you doing?! Where are you taking me?” Panic erupted within her as she flailed, her voice cracking with fear. “To the hospital. Abortion.” Chills coursed through her veins at those words, each syllable a death knell. Did Elliot know? How? Who had betrayed her secret? “Where’s Elliot?!” Avery cried, her chest tightening. “I need to see him! I won’t have an abortion! Please, I refuse!” She struggled against the grip of the bodyguard, but the remnants of her strength from the previous night evaporated under the weight of despair. Thrown into the backseat of the car as if she were nothing more than an object, she landed with a thud, her heart racing with dread. In the vastness of the backseat, Elliot sat like an ice sculpture, his gaze piercing and devoid of warmth. With a swift motion, he cast a piece of paper at her—its impact stung like a slap to the face. “You had so many chances to rid yourself of the filth growing inside you. Why didn’t you take them?” he spat, fury etched deep into his pale features. “Is it because you still cling to Cole? Do you wish for me to kill him with my own hands?!” Each word dripped with cold malice. Avery’s hands trembled as she picked up the paper—her own admission from the hospital, the information that should have been sacred. She shut her eyes tight, the agony surging through her. In a moment of desperation, she recalled how Elliot had threatened to snuff out the life within her if she ever fell pregnant. It was that threat that had compelled her to write down Cole’s name instead of the truth—a desperate lie that had led to this moment. “Elliot, please… I’m begging you… Don’t make me do this!” Tears streaked down her face as she grabbed his sleeve, clinging to him in a last attempt to save what little hope remained. “They’re not bastards, Elliot! They’re not!” Her cries echoed in the tense silence of the car, weaving through the air like a haunting melody of sorrow—a stark contrast to the tempest brewing in Elliot’s heart.