No sooner had she uttered those words and Gretchen heard the melodic chime of the fingerprint door lock being released.

In the blink of an eye, Cristofer swung the door open and entered the room.

Fixing his gaze upon Gretchen, he furrowed his brow and addressed her directly in a low, commanding tone, “Tell me, what else do you want?”

“Can’t you be nicer to me?” Gretchen said with dissatisfaction. “I’m pregnant with your child, after all. Besides, don’t you want me to donate my ...