Falco’s words carried a sharp edge and he sneered as he spoke.
“Yosefina, who do you think you are?”
“Just because you married my brother doesn’t mean you can control Yvone and me. My brother took our mother’s last name—only the children born from Yvone and me are true Wenzels, the rightful heirs of Wenzel Enterprises.”
“Since when do you have the right to tell Yvone what to do?”
His voice was firm as he ordered me to let go of the child. Benedict, still in my arms, looked up at me gratefully but then took a step back, deliberately keeping some distance.
“Auntie, thank you, but it’s okay.”
“I’m used to this.”
Hearing that, my heart clenched with pain. Without thinking, I flipped the entire table over.
“Yvone, if nothing else, at least show some decency for the sake of the child in your belly. Stop being so cruel.”
Screw this so-called family dinner—I had no interest in playing along with their act any longer. I turned and walked away with Benedict.
But before I could step outside the villa, Fynn stepped in front of me, blocking my path with a cold expression.
“Yosefina, where do you think you’re going?”
I almost forgot—he was one of Yvone’s most loyal lapdogs.
Right on cue, Yvone clung to Fynn’s arm, her voice trembling with false tears. “Brother, I know you love and respect your wife, but this child was just adopted by us—it has nothing to do with her! She flipped the table and scared my baby!”
She dabbed at nonexistent tears, playing the delicate victim as always, instantly drawing sympathy.
Fynn shot me a frosty glare, his voice laced with reprimand. “You were the one who arranged this dinner. Yvone didn’t do anything wrong—she was just trying to discipline the child. Why are you making a scene?”
“Put the child down. Give him back to Yvone.”
I held Benedict tightly in my arms and let out a cold laugh. “No. I’ve taken a liking to this child. I want to adopt him.”
All three of them refused to back down, forcing me to release the child.
But I simply smiled calmly and turned to Yvone. “Yvone, I’d like a word with you in private.”
I led her up to the second-floor terrace and deliberately provoked her. Enraged and humiliated, she lost control and shoved me off the balcony.
Everyone saw it happen—both in person and on the security cameras. I crashed onto the lawn below. I was alive, but blood poured from my body, unstoppable.
Fynn’s face turned ghostly pale as he rushed to me. “Yosefina, are you okay?”
“Hurry… get me to a hospital!” I could feel something slipping away from me—something I could never get back. Tears blurred my vision as I turned to Yvone, who stood frozen in shock.
“Yvone, you killed my baby. I’m calling the police.”
The moment I said that, Fynn’s expression darkened. “Fini, don’t be rash. Yvone didn’t mean to…”
Falco, however, eyed me with suspicion. “Why would Yvone suddenly push you? That doesn’t make sense. You must be twisting the story.”
“What did you say to set her off this time?”
He studied me with concern, but Yvone refused to meet my gaze. Her face was ashen, her lips tightly sealed.
Then, suddenly, her eyes flickered and she clutched her stomach, her face twisting in pain. “H-Honey… hurry… I think I’m going into labor…”
At that, Fynn panicked and sprinted to her side.
“There’s no time to wait for an ambulance! Falco, carry Yvone to the car—I’ll drive her to the hospital myself.”
Falco hesitated for a moment, then glanced back at me.
“What about your wife?”
Fynn didn’t even turn around.
“We don’t have time for that. Yvone comes first.”
“It’s not like this is the first time Yosefina’s had a miscarriage. She’s used to it—she’ll survive.”
“Besides, if she hadn’t fallen from the balcony and scared Yvone, this wouldn’t be happening in the first place…”
