The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 782

"No," Fitch answered flatly.

"Fine." With that single, definitive word, the very last shred of trust Milford had in his father evaporated.

Milford's icy detachment made Fitch's stomach churn. He could feel the situation slipping out of his control. But 'The Architect' had given explicit orders. For the sake of that massive investment, Milford was simply going to have to suffer through it for a little while longer.

Desperate to keep him on a leash, Fitch tried a softer approach. "Just listen to me. It's only a baby. It's your own flesh and blood. Just be the bigger person—there's no need to be so ruthless."

Milford didn't even flinch. He just stared at the hypocritical mask of the loving father, finding it utterly repulsive.

"How much more do you expect me to listen? Keep playing house with a woman I can't stand? Raise a kid I don't want? My life isn't your personal chessboard."

"How dare you!" Fitch roared.

"I'll show you how dare I!" Milford snapped, finally pushed past his breaking point. "I don't care what you say. I am dealing with this pregnancy today. I'm taking her to the hospital right now."

He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

"Stop!" Fitch lunged forward, grabbing his son's arm in a vice grip. "Don't you dare!"

"Watch me!" Milford violently yanked his arm free. "You brought this on yourself!"

*Smack.*

A sharp, echoing slap cracked across Milford's face.

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