Chapter 63

Alexander Hamilton's knuckles turned white.

"Fine."

He strode toward the restaurant.

"Stop." Annabelle Taylor's voice was shrill. "What kind of attitude is this?"

"I did as you asked."

"But your face says otherwise!"

"What do you want from me?" Alexander suddenly gestured around them. "See those cameras? Tomorrow's headlines will read 'Hamilton Group CEO spotted with pregnant woman at upscale restaurant.' The drunk driving scandal isn't even over yet."

Annabelle paled. "I..."

"You know better than anyone how precarious Hamilton Group's situation is." His voice dropped low. "Your cousin cost the company dearly. If this escalates further, can you handle the consequences?"

She reached for his arm.

Alexander jerked away. "Didn't you want dinner? The private room's complimentary—courtesy of Attorney Taylor."

"..."

"Let's go."

"..."

"Now!"

Annabelle staggered back, tears welling. "You're shouting at me?"

A cold smile twisted his lips. "This is the real me. I've played the refined gentleman for twenty years to please you."

"Shouldn't love mean acceptance?"

"And what about you?" His gaze pinned hers.

Her expression hardened. "Regretting this now?"

"Just realizing we're incompatible."

"Alexander Hamilton!" Her voice rose sharply. "Don't forget who chased after whom!"

Sirens wailed in the distance.

Two officers approached briskly. "We received reports of an altercation and car accident here."

Bystanders turned to stare.

The lead officer froze. "Mr. Hamilton? Not you again..."

Alexander dragged a hand down his face. "I'll cooperate. She's pregnant—please see her home."

The officer nodded. "We'll arrange it."

Annabelle clutched the officer's sleeve in panic. "It's just a marital spat—"

"Any injuries require investigation."

Alexander walked to the police car without looking back.

Inside the vehicle, the officer ventured carefully, "That's your wife?"

Silence.

"Pregnant women have mood swings. Be patient—it's your child after all..."

"My child?" Alexander suddenly laughed.

"Isn't it?"

The window reflected his bloodshot eyes.

The child that was truly his had vanished from this world a month ago—nothing but blood on an operating table.