Monica's sigh was long, weighted with the exhaustion of a secret buried too long. "My real daughter," she said quietly, "was stillborn. She never took a single breath. She was my child with Richard."
Ric's breath caught. His brows knit together, stunned, confused. "What…? Then who is—"
"I took Cammy," Monica interrupted, her voice low, almost hollow now.
"She wasn't mine. She was the daughter of one of our housemaids—Peter's housemaid. He had an affair. I fired the girl the moment I found out and sent her away, but I had her watched. I knew something like this might happen. I didn't want any bastard child lurking in the shadows, threatening my future children's inheritance."
Ric stared at her, speechless, as the pieces began to click together in his mind like a puzzle he'd never even known existed.
"I found out she was pregnant," Monica continued, her voice gaining speed now, each word a dagger of confession.
