CHAPTER 120: BROKEN PROMISES

"Woah..." George raised a thumb, his grin sharp, clearly mocking. "I never knew you could act this good. I almost cried on behalf of Theo..."

Daisy’s chest tightened, fingers still trembling around the phone that had just gone silent. Theo’s broken voice echoed in her ears, ’Don’t. Please.’ It was like a blade twisting in her heart, but she forced herself to breathe steadily, forcing her eyes to meet George’s smug face.

"You’re pathetic," she muttered.

George chuckled, lowering himself into the chair across from her. "Pathetic? Maybe. But you... you’re a good actress. The desperation, the little cracks in your voice, that perfect tremble? Ah." He clapped his hands together once, mock-applause ringing through the suffocating room. "If I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe you."

Daisy’s jaw tightened. She didn’t have the strength to argue, not when every ounce of her was still caught between guilt for Theo and fear for the child she carried. Her hand instinctively brushed over her stomach, the tiniest of gestures, but George caught it immediately.

"Ohh," he sang softly, tilting his head. "There it is. Motherly instinct. How sweet." He leaned forward, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. "But you know, for the baby to grow strong and healthy... you’ll need to eat a lot more."

Daisy’s stomach twisted. "Don’t pretend you care."

"Care?" George’s brows rose in mock innocence. "Of course I care. That little thing in your belly... Well, it changes everything, doesn’t it? Makes you softer. Makes you easier to control. You’d do anything to protect it."

Her blood ran cold. She hated that he was right, that every decision, every word she spoke now had to be measured against the risk to her unborn child.

George clapped his hands, dusting his hands as if he had just finished some small chore. "I’ll bring something up for you," he added casually. "Don’t starve yourself. Wouldn’t want anything... bad... to happen to the little one."

Without waiting for her response, he strolled toward the door, humming under his breath as if this were the most ordinary thing in the world. The lock clicked behind him, leaving Daisy alone in the suffocating silence.

Her gaze darted around the room, desperate for an escape, but even the windows were secured with locks. A shaky sigh slipped from her lips as her eyes blurred with fresh tears. "What should I do?" she whispered into the emptiness.

Not long after, the door creaked open again. George stepped in, balancing a tray of food with exaggerated care, as though he were some kind of benevolent host instead of her captor.

"Dinner is served," he announced lightly, setting the tray down on the table by the bed. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "You should eat, Daisy. Crying burns energy, you know. Wouldn’t want you fainting on me before the real fun begins."

Daisy stiffened, wiping quickly at her damp cheeks. "I’m not hungry."

George arched a brow, then picked up a spoonful of rice. "Wrong answer."

Before she could turn her face away, his hand shot out, gripping her chin hard enough to make her wince. He tilted her face toward him, forcing her mouth open as he pressed the spoon past her lips.

"Swallow," he ordered, his voice low and steady, almost calm. "Don’t make me repeat myself."

Daisy gagged, trying to pull back, but his fingers dug into her jaw, holding her in place.

"That’s better," he murmured, watching her throat move as she reluctantly obeyed. He scooped another spoonful without hesitation. "See? Not so hard. We’ll keep going until you’re done."

"Good girl," George murmured with a mock softness, setting the spoon back down as he glanced at the now-empty bowl. "Empty bowl, happy tummy..." His lips curled into something between a smile and a sneer. "See? I took great care of you."

He stood, brushing his hands together as though satisfied with a job well done. Without another word, he strode toward the door. The lock clicked shut behind him, leaving Daisy alone in the suffocating silence.

She sat frozen on the bed, staring blankly at the floorboards. Her chest rose and fell, but her mind was void, like a chalkboard wiped clean, leaving nothing but a pale haze. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Even the tears that had once streamed so freely felt locked somewhere deep inside, unreachable.

Minutes trickled by, one after another, until nearly half an hour had passed. Slowly, a dull ache began to coil in her stomach, twisting tighter with every breath. The food sat heavy inside her like a stone, and with each passing moment, the discomfort grew sharper, her body finally catching up to the torment her mind refused to process.

A sharp cramp shot through her, forcing her out of her trance. Daisy’s hand instinctively clutched at her stomach, fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt as if pressing hard enough could ease the twisting inside.

The pain swelled quickly, from a dull ache to something jagged and unbearable. Her lips parted, desperate to call for help, but the sound that escaped was thin and broken, barely more than a shallow rasp. Even that sent another stab through her abdomen, making her double over on the bed.

Her breaths came uneven, each inhale catching against the knot of pain lodged inside her. She tried again, forcing the word out "Help..." but it fractured, no louder than a whisper.

Then, through the pain, she felt something wet, slipping where it shouldn’t. Confused and trembling, she shifted her legs. A warmth spread beneath her, soaking into the thin fabric she wore.

Her gaze dropped, and her stomach turned cold.

Blood.

"No! No!" She shook her head violently, her voice breaking. "George! George! What are you doing to me?! Bastard! George... you promised me!"

Her hands clutched at the sheets, smearing red across her palms as she struggled to sit up, her body refusing to obey. Tears blurred her vision, dripping down her cheeks, her chest heaving with ragged breaths.

"No!"