Maxwell POV

I never thought a single sentence could shatter me.

But when my mother’s voice cut through the air like a blade—calm, precise, lethal—I felt something deep inside me crack.

“She’s pregnant, Maxwell,” Rebecca said, leaning casually against the marble countertop as if she were discussing the weather. “And it’s not yours.”

My world tilted.

For a moment, I just stood there in the middle of my father’s old study, the place where deals were made and ...