Billionaire's Baby Girl

[Ivy]

“Great news, Mrs Morgan. Your cervix has healed, and everything’s back to normal. Now you can start trying for a baby without any issues,” Dr Kline says, and I can’t hold back my happiness.

“Really? That’s actually good news.” I can’t wait to tell Hunter about it. He will be so happy. I touch the file she just handed me, pressing it against my chest so I know it’s real. “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much.”

I leave the hospital and wait for Finn to bring the car around.

My excitement rolls off me in waves. I can’t stop grinning.

Five years. For five years, Hunter and I have been married, and for the last two years we’ve been trying for a baby. But I was told I wouldn’t be able to conceive because of an accident that happened seven years ago. It was a… messy situation.

I hear a car pull up, and my smile widens even more.

A car door opens, and a familiar presence fills my nostrils.

“Hey, Ivy, ready to go home?” Finn, my personal driver—my best friend and brother from another mother—asks. “You look really happy today.”

He guides me to the car and holds the door open for me.

I get in the back of the car. “I am. I got some good news today.”

Finn enters the car, and I feel the engine start. “What news?”

“The doctor said that Hunter and I can finally have a child.”

“Congratulations, Ivy,” he says after a beat. “That’s wonderful news.”

I grin, unable to hide my joy—and I won’t. Hunter and I have waited a long time for this news, and I can’t stop thinking about how he’ll react. He’ll obviously be happy—too happy—and might even decide to take a day off so we can plan the whole baby-making process.

If there’s one thing we’ve learned while trying for a baby, it’s that babies don’t happen at just any time of the day. Nope, they certainly don’t. They need to be made at the right time, and Hunter has spent the last two years making a calendar, a baby diary, and even mood boards to increase our chances. He has it all planned out, and I can’t help but laugh every time he goes on one of his rants. He is adorable.

But the baby isn’t the only thing he has been concerned about.

He has been worried about me, too.

My eyes, mostly.

Yes, I must rely on my senses to move through the world, for I cannot see. I was not born blind—my darkness came from an accident seven years ago. In that moment, I was trying to protect my husband, and the injuries I suffered took my sight from me.

Ever since the accident, Hunter has taken it upon himself to try to get my vision back. Back then, he used to be so obsessed—all he talked about were the doctors he had met, heard about, or wanted to contact because of their great reputations. He wanted to know if my eyes were treatable, if I could ever see again. But every single time, the doctors gave him an answer that broke his heart a little.

I know it did. I was there, holding his hands, trying to act like it didn’t matter—that it wasn’t such a big deal.

I would have been happy either way. Sure, having my vision back would have been wonderful, but I wasn’t holding my breath. After living with this blindness for almost seven years, I had already made peace with it.

When the car pulls up, the familiar scent of roses washes over me. It’s from the garden Hunter built for me for our first marriage anniversary. And I love it. He knows that. He knows that even though I can’t see them, the scent of those flowers alone brings me a sense of peace.

I get out of the car, my file clutched in my hand like a lifeline. “Thanks for the ride, Finn.”

“Anytime, Ivy.” His voice is a little distant, but I chalk it up to exhaustion.

“See you soon.”

He doesn’t respond, and the next thing I hear is him driving the car away.

Strange. What’s up with him today? Is he really that exhausted?

Maybe he is. I should give him a day or two's rest. He deserves it.

With a nod to myself, I enter my home sweet home with Hunter.

I walk with confidence, already sensing another presence from across the room—the subtle scent of all sweet things.

I smile. “What are you still doing here, Mina?” I ask the head maid. “Didn’t you say you were going to see your future daughter-in-law for the first time today? We wouldn’t want you to be late for that, right?”

Mina’s chuckle sounds forced. “Mrs Morgan, I would leave, but Mr Hunter told me to wait for you. He’s upstairs and told me to inform him about your arrival right away.”

“Hunter’s home?” That’s surprising. Didn’t he say he would be late for dinner today? Something urgent with a client that couldn’t be postponed.

Mina helps me to the couch. “Yes, Mrs Morgan. He arrived an hour ago.”

“Well, that’s wonderful.” I beam, my heart fluttering. “I have some amazing news for him.”

I feel her shift beside me. “I’m sure he’ll be delighted, Mrs Morgan.”

I settle into the plush cushions; the file still clutched in my hands. The scent of roses and lilies seems stronger today, almost intoxicating. “Mina, would you be a dear and get me some water? My throat is a bit dry.”

“Of course, Mrs Morgon.” Her footsteps recede, and I listen to the familiar hum of the house.

I frown, however, when the faint scent of expensive perfume invades my nostrils.

Weird. Everybody in the house knows I hate strong scents; they make me nauseous. Then who would wear such a thing?

I sniff again, just to make sure I’m not imagining things, but sure enough, the scent is still there. It’s faint, as if someone tried to cover it up, but it’s there. A woman’s perfume.

A sense of unease settles in the pit of my stomach, but I push it aside. Maybe it’s a new cleaning product Mina decided to try. Yeah. That must be it.

“Here’s your water, Mrs Morgan,” Mina’s gentle voice breaks through my thoughts.

“Thank you, Mina.” I take the glass, my fingers brushing against hers. “Oh, before I forget—did someone come home today? I feel like someone did, but I can’t place the scent.”

I hear her breath hitch. “No, Mrs Morgan. No one has come home today. Just Mr Hunter.”

The fact that she said it too quickly makes me more suspicious. And the way she tried to make her voice sound as normal as possible…

I sip my water. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Her voice is steady, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s hiding something.

I take another sip of water, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the sudden warmth spreading through my chest. “Alright. If you say so.”

I decide to let it go, not wanting to cause a scene over nothing. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. After all, it’s been a long day, and the news from the doctor has me on edge.

“Where’s Hunter right now?”

“In the study, Mrs Morgan. Let me inform him of your arrival. He will be right down.” I can hear her footsteps already walking away.

“Stop,” I say, and stand up, making sure to wear my usual gentle smile. “It’s okay. I’ll go and fetch him myself. I do have something to tell him, anyway.”

With the help of my memory and the familiar furniture arrangement, I make my way around the couch and toward the stairs.

“Don’t,” Mina suddenly grabs my arm, her hold surprisingly too tight. “Please don’t go in there, Mrs. Morgan.”

A cold dread washes over me, and I pull my arm away from her grasp. “Why not?”

“He’s… busy.” Her words are laced with something I can’t quite place. Fear? Panic?

“Busy doing what?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. “Mina, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Mrs Morgan.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “It’s just… he’s on an important call. He asked not to be disturbed.”

But I know it’s a lie. I can feel it in the way her hand trembles as she releases my arm.

My fingers tighten around the bannister. “Oh. I see.”

I can’t. But I know when not to push. I turn to face her. “You know what? I was thinking… before you leave, why don’t you make a cup of that herbal tea you brought me from your hometown? I haven’t been sleeping well for the past few days. Maybe it will help.”

Mina stiffens beside me, just for a second. It’s so slight most people wouldn’t notice—but I do. When you live in the dark, you learn to read the world through every other sense.

“Oh—of course,” she says quickly. Too quickly. “I’ll… I’ll get right on it.”

Her footsteps retreat toward the kitchen, uneven and rushed.

I take the stairs and move as fast as I can—before Mina arrives and stops me one more time.

I move so hurriedly that by the time I reach the upstairs, I’m out of breath.

But the smell hits me before I even make it to the study. Not Mina’s familiar warm scent, not the floral scents from my garden, not even the familiar scent of Hunter’s cologne.

It’s the same perfume I smelled earlier.

The expensive, luxurious one.

The one I hate.

I push open the study door, and a wave of Hunter’s and a woman’s scent washes over me.

My blood runs cold.

“Hunter?”