BILLIONAIRE'S PREGNANT MISTRESS

Naila

“You are five weeks pregnant.” The doctor’s voice echoed in my head long after I had left the clinic.

Five weeks pregnant the nurse had said.

I sat on the small bench across from Toby’s building, staring at nothing, my fingers clenched tightly in my lap. The summer sun was warm against my skin, but I felt cold, unnaturally cold.

Pregnant, the word echoed in my mind again. 

My hand moved slowly to my stomach, pressing lightly as if I could feel something already there.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, we had been careful always. 

But one night, that one night, heat rushed to my cheeks as I thought about it.

He had just come back from a long business trip, we had been weeks apart. Weeks of tension building, weeks of me missing him, craving him.

That night, Toby hadn’t held back and neither did I. 

My eyes squeezed shut as the memory surfaced his hands, his voice, the way he had whispered things that felt dangerously close to promises but deep down I knew were just pillow talk.

My chest tightened as a sharp unease settled deep in my stomach.

How would he react when I tell him the news?

I had never asked him what we were, I never pushed him or demanded for more, mostly because I was afraid of the answer. But a baby changed everything. 

This wasn’t just about me anymore.

I exhaled shakily and checked the time. He would be home soon.

And here I was, sitting outside like a coward.

“You are being ridiculous,” I muttered under my breath as I stood.

I crossed the street towards the building, forcing my legs to move despite the heaviness weighing them down.

The doorman greeted me politely, ushering me inside without question.

Of course he did, everyone here knew me.

The woman who came and went on Toby’s schedule.

The one who didn’t belong but was always around.

The elevator ride felt longer than usual.

My reflection stared back at me from the mirrored walls, faded jeans, a loose T-shirt, my hair slightly messy.

Clothes Toby hated, he liked me polished. Perfect and presentable for him. 

A small, bitter thought whispered in my mind.

Would he still want me like this once he knew?

My hand drifted again to my stomach.

I had to tell him, but first I needed to know where I stood with him.

The elevator doors opened into the penthouse.

I slipped off my shoes and walked inside, dropping my bag onto the couch.

Fatigue dragged at my body, but my mind refused to rest. 

Six months, that’s how long we had been doing this.

Late nights, stolen time. Intensity that felt like something real but outside of this apartment?

We were nothing to each other, or rather I was nothing to him. And for a while it worked well but things started changing for me, how could they not really? 

My chest tightened painfully.

I couldn’t bring a child into something so uncertain, I needed more before I made a decision. 

I walked into the bedroom and immediately froze, he was already here. 

Toby stepped out of the bathroom, a towel hanging low on his hips.

Water still clung to his skin, sliding down the hard lines of his chest.

It didn’t matter how many times I saw him, he always affected me.

A slow smile spread across his face when he saw me.

“You are early,” I said, my voice unsteady.

“I have been waiting for you,” he replied, his voice low, familiar but dangerous.

Before I could respond, the towel dropped.

My breath hitched as my gaze betrayed me, trailing downward.

He moved toward me with quiet confidence, like a predator who already knew the outcome.

His hands settled on my shoulders, pulling me closer before his mouth crashed against mine.

And just like that, I was lost. 

I should have stopped him, I should have said something.

But the moment his lips touched mine, every thought scattered.

A soft moan slipped past my lips as my body betrayed me, leaning into him, needing him.

His hands moved quickly, impatiently, pushing my shirt up, pulling it over my head.

“You have too many clothes on,” he murmured against my skin.

I barely heard him, I could barely think.

All I could feel was him.

His mouth, his hands, the heat building between us.

“Did you miss me?” he asked.

“You know I did,” I whispered.

“I want to hear you say it.” he said

I swallowed. “I missed you.”

A satisfied sound left him as he stripped me bare, discarding my clothes like they meant nothing.

Like I meant nothing beyond this.

And still, I let him.

Moments later, he was inside me.

I clung to him as the world narrowed to just us, our bodies, our breaths, the overwhelming intensity that always consumed me when we were like this.

It was always like this.

Like something that could never last.

His voice brushed against my skin, murmuring softly in Greek as we reached our peak together.

For a moment, for just a moment i let myself believe this was real.

I must have fallen asleep.

Because when I opened my eyes again, I was in his arms.

His hand rested possessively on my hip, his gaze fixed on me.

He seemed satisfied and content like nothing had changed, but everything had.

My heart began to race again.

This was it, I was going to ask him, I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Toby” I said softly.

“What is it?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“I need to talk to you.”

Something shifted in his expression.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me fully.

“What about?”

“Us,” I said confidently.

The word hung heavily between us.

And just like that everything changed.

His expression hardened up and fear curled tightly in my chest.

“We don’t have a relationship,” he said flatly.

The words didn’t make sense.

“I don’t do relationships. You knew that.”

My heart stuttered.

“You are my mistress.”

Silence filled the room and suddenly I could not breathe. 

My fingers tightened in the sheets as I stared at him, something inside me breaking.

“And that’s all I am to you?” I whispered.

His expression didn’t soften.

“That’s all I have ever offered, that's all I can offer I told you that from the beginning.”

Something inside me shattered completely, because five minutes ago I was in his arms and now everything was different. 

Mistress, the word echoes in my mind and I hold back the tears threatening my eyes.