Chapter 18: The Weight of Truth

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the first thing Sophia heard as she drifted back to consciousness. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled her nose, and the coolness of the hospital sheets pressed against her skin.

Her eyelids felt heavy, but she forced them open, blinking against the fluorescent lights. For a moment, she was disoriented. Then, the memories came rushing back—the contract, the confrontation with Julian, the overwhelming dizziness before everything went black.

A low voice broke through the fog in her mind.

“You’re awake.”

She turned her head slightly and found Julian sitting in a chair beside her bed, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. His usual composed demeanor was still there, but there was something else in his eyes—something she couldn’t quite place.

“How long have I been out?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“A few hours.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You collapsed.”

Sophia exhaled, closing her eyes for a brief moment. Of course, she did. Her body had finally given in after everything she had been holding inside.

Before she could respond, the door swung open, and a doctor walked in, holding a file in his hands. He was smiling—almost too brightly.

“Good to see you awake, Mrs. St. Clair,” the doctor said cheerfully. “I have some wonderful news.”

Sophia frowned, confusion flickering in her tired eyes. “Mrs. St. Clair?”

The doctor barely noticed her reaction as he turned to Julian. “Congratulations, Mr. St. Clair. Your wife is pregnant.”

Silence.

Sophia’s breath caught in her throat. Her fingers clenched the hospital blanket as her heart pounded against her ribs.

Julian, on the other hand, remained perfectly still. His expression didn’t change, but his entire body tensed.

The doctor continued, oblivious. “She seems to be a few months along. Everything looks stable for now, but she’ll need to take care of herself properly moving forward.”

Sophia couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

Pregnant.

Her gaze flickered to Julian, panic swirling in her chest. He was staring at the doctor, his jaw locked, his fingers gripping the armrest of his chair tightly.

The air in the room shifted, thick with unspoken tension.

Then Julian finally spoke, his voice low and controlled.

“…Are you sure?”

The doctor chuckled. “Positive. You’re going to be a father.”

The words felt like a bomb going off.

Julian’s gaze slowly turned to Sophia. His eyes darkened, searching hers.

And in that moment, she knew—everything had changed.

…….

The door clicked shut behind the doctor, leaving an unbearable silence in its wake.

Sophia kept her gaze fixed on the white sheets covering her legs, her fingers gripping the fabric as if it could somehow anchor her in place. Her heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she wondered if Julian could hear it too.

She didn’t dare look at him.

But he was looking at her.

She could feel his eyes on her, unwavering, intense. The air in the room felt heavy, charged with something unspoken. Seconds stretched, turning into an eternity.

Then Julian finally broke the silence.

“Go tell the owner of your pregnancy,” he said, his voice calm, almost indifferent.

Sophia’s fingers tightened around the sheets. A bitter chuckle threatened to rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down. Slowly, she lifted her head and met his gaze.

The moment their eyes locked, something flickered in Julian’s expression—something unreadable.

“He’s already here,” she said softly.

A beat of silence.

Julian’s brows furrowed slightly. “What?”

Sophia’s throat felt dry, but she forced herself to keep speaking. “The father of my baby…” she inhaled deeply, steadying herself, “…is you.”

For the first time since she’d met him, Julian St. Clair looked truly shaken.

His body tensed, his lips parted slightly, and for a moment, he just… stared at her.

The composed, unbothered billionaire—the man who never showed emotion—was at a complete loss for words.

Sophia held his gaze, waiting.

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Julian said, “You’re lying.”

Julian’s sharp gaze bore into Sophia, his mind still struggling to process what she had just said. His grip on the chair tightened, knuckles turning white.

“You’re lying,” he repeated, but his voice wasn’t as steady as before.

Sophia let out a bitter laugh, finally lifting her head to look at him fully. “Oh, I’m lying?” she echoed, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Tell me, Julian, that night—were you thinking about anything else?

Because from what I remember, you were too busy enjoying yourself to think about protection.”

His jaw clenched. “And you? Are you telling me you didn’t take any precautions?”

Sophia’s eyes darkened. “Because I work there doesn’t mean I’m like the other girls,” she snapped.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face, but she didn’t stop.

“That night,” she continued, her voice quieter now, “I wasn’t thinking about the consequences. I was desperate. I needed money for my mother’s surgery. And you… you didn’t care about anything else except taking what you wanted.”

Julian’s breath came out slowly as memories of that night flooded his mind.

He remembered how passionate it was—the way her lips had parted, her skin burning beneath his touch. How her soft gasps had turned into desperate moans as she melted against him. He hadn’t been able to stop himself, hadn’t wanted to.

It had been intense. Messy. Addictive.

He hadn’t held back, hadn’t thought twice.

And now, he was staring at the consequences of that night.

Sophia’s hands curled into fists on her lap. “I didn’t plan for this, Julian. I didn’t expect to see you again, let alone be sitting here telling you that you’re going to be a father.”

Julian’s throat felt tight. He didn't want to deny it

But the truth was staring right at him.

And for the first time in a long time… he had no idea what to do.

Why did he believe her so easily?

To think he just wants to accept the pregnancy even without knowing Sophia that much.