Chapter 231 Abort the Baby
Athena’s heart pounded in her chest as the weight of Byron’s words crashed over her. His eyes, once filled with anger, were now searching her face for something—perhaps an apology, perhaps a sign of obedience—but all she could see was a cold determination. His hands, which had just moments ago been around her throat, now gently caressed her cheek, as if his actions could erase everything that had happened.
She pulled away from his touch, her eyes wild with disbelief. “You want me to abort the baby?” she repeated, her voice trembling with a mix of horror and disbelief. “Byron, how can you even say that? How could you expect me to—”” It’s for the best,” Byron cut in, his tone icy but firm. “I won’t let you carry another man’s child. You’ve made a choice, Thea, and now I’m giving you a chance to fix it.” His words hung in the air like a verdict, cold and final.
Athena recoiled, her thoughts a chaotic whirl. The image of George’s pain, the memory of his bloodied hand, flashed before her eyes again, and her stomach twisted in response. This—this was her reality now. She was caught between Byron, the man she had once loved, and George, who had always been there for her, quietly loving her from the sidelines.
“You’ve lost your mind,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What have you become, Byron? What happened to the man I used to know?”
Byron’s face darkened, his jaw tightening. “The man you used to know? That man is gone, Thea. He’s been buried under years of lies and betrayal. But I’m giving you a chance to make things right.” His eyes locked onto hers, his gaze intense. “You’re mine, Thea. You always were.”
“Not anymore,” Athena shot back, her voice stronger now, the fire of defiance burning in her chest. “You don’t own me. You never did. And you never will again.”
Byron flinched, his face contorting as if struck. The words felt like a slap, but he quickly masked the emotion that flashed across his face. His hands clenched at his sides, but he said nothing. He didn’t need to. His silence spoke louder than any words.
“You can’t control me anymore, Byron,” Athena continued, her voice shaking but resolute. “And I’m not going to let you destroy George for your pride. He doesn’t deserve this.”
Byron’s eyes flashed with anger, but the pain in Athena’s gaze seemed to give him pause. The internal struggle was visible on his face as his thoughts collided. For a brief moment, he seemed uncertain—his sharp features softened, and something like regret flickered in his eyes.
But then, his expression hardened once more, and he stepped back, the distance between them growing. “You think I care about his future? You think I care about the man you’re willing to throw your life away for?”
Athena shook her head, her tears finally spilling over. “You don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You never did. You never really cared.”
Byron’s eyes darkened, and for a split second, he looked like he was going to strike her again. But the moment passed, and he simply turned away, the anger still simmering beneath his calm exterior.
“Get out,” Athena said quietly, a cold finality in her words. “Just get out, Byron.”
For a long moment, he didn’t move, as if contemplating whether to stay or leave. But then, with a final, unreadable glance, he turned and walked out of the room, his footsteps heavy and deliberate.
Athena collapsed back onto the bed, her body wracked with sobs. The weight of everything—the lies, the betrayal, the pain—crushed her. Her thoughts turned to George, to the man who had never asked for anything in return for his love, and her heart broke for him all over again.
The door closed behind Byron, and for the first time in a long while, Athena was left alone to face the harsh reality of her life.