Isabella stares at the broken wine glass for a long moment.

Then she starts laughing.

Not happy laughter. The kind that comes when everything falls apart at once.

"A baby," she says. "Of course. Perfect timing."

"Isabella—" Dominic starts.

"No. Don't. Just don't."

She stands up. Brushes glass off her hands.

"So let me understand this. We finally have a chance to build something real. Something powerful. And you want to run away and play house?"

"We want to protect our child."

"By ...