“Susan is pregnant!” Martina exclaimed as soon as Henry answered the phone.

Silence followed.

“It’s Manuel’s child!” she snapped. Grinding her teeth, she felt a burning rage. She couldn't accept that another woman would bear Manuel's child. She simply couldn't.

Henry tightened his grip on the phone. “How do you know?” he asked coldly.

“I saw Susan shopping at the mall with Manuel and his mother…” Martina’s voice rose, recalling the scene. “I wanted to kill her!”

Henry’s face darkened. He hadn’t expected Susan’s pregnancy. Remembering a recent promise to Susan, he felt regret and fury.

“Henry! This is all your fault, you useless man! You’re the reason they’re sleeping together, the reason she’s carrying Manuel’s baby. You coward…”

“Enough!” Henry’s already bad mood worsened under Martina’s insults. His voice hardened. “Susan is pregnant because you reap what you sow. It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't resorted to underhanded tactics!”

“Huh?” Martina sneered. “Henry, you don't get to lecture me. Yes, I used underhanded tactics, but you’re hardly blameless! At least I acted out of love. What about you? You pursued her with ulterior motives and took advantage of her. You big jerk!”

Henry’s face paled.

“Don't think you're fooling anyone. My brother already knows what kind of man you are. Don't pretend to be someone you're not,” Martina said fiercely, her contempt evident.

Henry’s hand trembled with rage.

“Henry, you’d better behave, or I’ll kill you. My brother only keeps you alive because he finds you useful. After everything you’ve done, you think those nude photos will intimidate me?” Martina spat.

Henry was mortified, though he knew her threat was credible. The Sawyer family could easily dispose of him. He craved power, a position where no one could bully him, a place of dominance overlooking the world.

“What? Why are you silent now?” Martina continued her sarcastic barrage. “Weren't you just so arrogant?”

“I have feelings too, and I’m upset about Susan’s pregnancy. You’re right, I exploited her, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to let her go to another man,” Henry explained, his anger subsiding.

Martina’s sarcastic smile widened.

“We can’t let Susan keep the baby,” Henry stated firmly. “I need time to figure this out.”

“You better hurry! I can’t stand the thought of her carrying his child for another day.”

“Okay.”

After hanging up, Martina dialed her brother’s number, immediately dissolving into tears. The aggressive woman who’d just berated Henry was replaced by a vulnerable, heartbroken figure.

“Charles,” she sobbed.

Charles frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Susan is pregnant,” Martina wailed.

“It’s none of your business,” Charles responded indifferently. He didn’t care about Susan. But the thought of Hannah and Oscar’s child caused his face to pale, forcing him to suppress the thought.

“Charles, the father is Manuel! I can’t accept it! I love him so much! I can’t bear another woman having his child!” Martina cried. “You have to help me!”

“What’s so great about him? If he hadn’t lost his leg, he might have inherited the Phillips Bank fortune. Now he’s an invalid. Why do you still love him?”

“I love him, that’s all. Nothing will change my mind. I’ll love him forever, rich or poor, able-bodied or disabled. I can’t live without him…”

“Shut up!” Charles snapped. “You’re working with Henry, right? Let him find a way to abort the baby.”

“But I’m afraid he’s useless! He’s a coward!”

“Don’t underestimate him,” Charles said. “He’s risen from nothing. He’s a force to be reckoned with. In some ways, he’s like me.”

“You overestimate him,” Martina scoffed. “Don’t compare him to you.” In her mind, no one compared to her brother. Not even Manuel.

“You and Henry need to sort this out. If I can help, I will, but I’m busy securing the South Bay project.”

“Can you do that? I hear the Cooper Group is also bidding.” Martina asked.

“Hannah, that bitch, ruined my plans!” Charles gritted his teeth, consumed by rage. He wanted to destroy her.

“She deserves to die!” Martina agreed vehemently. “When you have everything, you must kill her!”

“Of course,” Charles said, a cruel glint in his eye. “I have things to do. Deal with Susan’s baby yourself.”

“Okay.”

After the call, Charles felt a familiar irritation, a gnawing unease whenever he thought of Hannah. His eyes darkened. He dialed a number.

“Hello, Sandra.”

“Hi, Mr. Sawyer,” Sandra, his special assistant, replied. “You finally thought of me.”

Charles, now working at City Hall, rarely contacted Sandra.

“I want to see you tonight, at the usual place. You’ll see how much I’ve missed you.”

“You’re bad!”

“You think I’m bad?”

“Charles…”