Pregnancy Amidst Cruelty

The sound of shattering crystal still echoed in my ears as I knelt before Arlet's portrait, my knees raw against the marble floor. Three months had passed since that terrible wedding day, three months of this daily ritual that Kian insisted would cleanse my family's sins. The girl in the painting gazed down at me with painted eyes that seemed to mock my suffering—beautiful, ethereal Arlet, who had chosen death over a life that included my existence.

"Your penance is not yet complete," Kian's voice cut through the silence like a blade. He stood behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat of his anger radiating against my back. "Your family destroyed her. They drove her to jump from this very house."

I wanted to scream that we had done nothing, that my father had been an honorable man, that my mother had never spoken an unkind word about anyone. But the words died in my throat as they always did. What was the point? Kian's grief had transformed into something monstrous, and I was the convenient target for his rage.

The grandfather clock in the corner chimed noon, its deep tone reverberating through the mansion's empty halls. I had been kneeling since dawn, my legs numb and trembling. The jade bracelet my mother had given me—the only thing of hers I had left—pressed against my wrist like a lifeline to happier times.

"Stand." Kian's command was sharp, final.

I struggled to my feet, my vision blurring from the sudden movement. The world tilted dangerously, but I forced myself to remain upright. Showing weakness would only fuel his contempt.

He circled me slowly, like a predator studying its prey. "I have news about your precious family business."

My heart stopped. Palmer Industries had been struggling for months, hemorrhaging money and contracts in ways that made no sense. My father had worked himself to exhaustion trying to save the company his grandfather had built, but every effort seemed to backfire spectacularly.

"Palmer Industries is finished," Kian said with cold satisfaction. "Completely bankrupt as of this morning."

The words hit me like physical blows. I gripped the back of a nearby chair to keep from falling. "No... that's impossible. Father said—"

"Your father said many things." Kian's smile was cruel, predatory. "None of them true, it seems."

Before I could process this devastating news fully, the butler appeared in the doorway, his face grave. "Sir, there's been an incident. Mr. Palmer..."

Kian waved him forward impatiently. The butler whispered something in his ear that made Kian's eyes flash with dark triumph. My blood turned to ice.

"It seems your father has taken the coward's way out," Kian announced, his voice devoid of any human warmth. "He jumped from his office building this afternoon. Couldn't face the shame of his failures, I suppose."

The room spun around me. The marble floor rushed up to meet my knees as I collapsed, a keening wail tearing from my throat. My father—gentle, kind, hardworking—was