Chapter 2 — Not His Baby?

The knock on Tessa’s door came sharply in the dead of night, shaking her to her bones. Her heart thudded painfully as she raced down the stairs of her small apartment.

“Tessa,” Grayson’s voice called out, low and rough. “Please, open up.”

Grayson—what the hell was he doing here?

“Tessa, I know you’re in there. Please open the door, let’s talk.”

She pressed her back against the wall, her breath caught in her throat. After everything—his insults, the way he pushed her away, the cold cruelty—she wasn’t about to just let him back in.

“What do you want, Grayson?” she yelled, her voice shaking. “Go away.”

“Please,” he begged, desperation bleeding through the door. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

She swallowed hard, torn between anger and something stubborn inside her that still wanted him.

“Please open the door, Tessa, let’s talk.” He begged again.

She took in a deep breath, her heart racing in her chest. She walked slowly to the door, yanking it open with all her strength.

“WHAT?” she snapped. “What do you want?”

“Baby,” he started. “I didn’t mean any of what I said. Please believe me.”

“It’s too late for all that now, Grayson. You hit me and you insulted me and you let Sofia—”

“Sofia doesn’t mean anything,” he shrugged. “She was just something that I used to pass the time. I don’t love her. I only love you.”

She shook her head, backing away from him. “You said she’d be the one to give you your baby.”

He chuckled like his words didn’t make sense even to him. “That was just something I said because I was drunk. I had a lot to drink before you came in.”

“Grayson—”

“You’re the one having my baby.” He swallowed. “It’s you I want. I want the mother of my heir to be you.”

Her eyes narrowed in disappointment. So he was only here because he found out she was pregnant? Not because he cared?

He stepped closer, his voice softening just enough to move her. “Tessa, you think I don’t want this? You think I’m just saying all this because I’m desperate?”

She shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“No,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers. “I want us. I want you. Not because of the baby, but because you are everything I ever wanted. I know I was a terrible bastard, but I’m not asking for forgiveness—I’m asking for a second chance.”

She wanted to throw him out. God, she did. But his words were like poison wrapped in honey.

“You’re scared,” he whispered, his voice dropping lower. “Scared that I’ll hurt you again. But I’m different now. You’re carrying my child. That means something. We can be a family, Tessa. You and me, and the baby. We can be happy.”

Her heart hammered against her ribs. Part of her wanted to scream, run away, and never look back. But another part, a smaller, desperate part wanted to reach out, to believe in his promises.

Before she could think it through, his hand brushed her cheek, warm and firm. His eyes searched hers for permission.

She didn’t pull away.

Then his lips were on hers with a desperate urgency that stole her breath away. She wanted to push him off, for all the pain he’d caused.

But instead, she found herself melting into the kiss, the anger and heartbreak tangled up with a flicker of something else—something dangerous.

His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, as if trying to erase all he’d done and said. Her body betrayed her, responding to the warmth, the familiarity, the promise he made with that kiss.

He yanked her shirt over her head without a second thought, his fingers rough and claiming. His mouth left hers to trail scorching kisses down her bare chest, his tongue flicking over every sensitive spot, making her shiver uncontrollably.

“Fuck, Tessa,” he growled, his breath ragged as he pressed his body hard against hers. Without warning, he scooped her up, carrying her like she weighed nothing as he stormed toward the stairs.

Every step echoed his hunger. He didn’t waste a second, slamming the bedroom door shut behind them, and pinning her against the bed with wild, hot kisses that left her dizzy.

His hands tore at her jeans, ripping them open and sliding inside, skin burning against skin. She gasped as his fingers explored, teasing, dragging her closer to the edge.

Then, with no warning, he slipped inside her, hard and demanding, moving with a brutal urgency that took her breath away. Her nails dug into his back as waves of pleasure and pain came together.

He kissed her fiercely, biting her neck as he drove deeper inside her, his voice rough and ragged in her ear. “You’re mine, Tessa. Always will be.”

She lost herself in the storm of pleasure, the fierce, intense rhythm of his body moving with hers, the desperate heat pooling between her legs until she shattered, screaming his name into the night.

When it was over, he held her close, sweat slick and heart pounding, whispering promises she wasn’t sure were true but she didn’t want to let go of.

She woke up to Grayson’s arms wrapped around her stomach like he was protecting what was his.

She really let him in last night? Maybe it was for the best; she couldn’t raise this child on her own, not with her father’s hospital bills piling every second. At least Grayson was the son of a rich family. He could help them both.

The sharp buzz of her phone cut through the silence of her small apartment. She glanced at the screen. It was the hospital. She hesitated for just a second, then she answered.

“Ms. Quinn?” The nurse’s voice was soft but serious on the other end.

“Yes?” she said, her heart already pounding.

“I’m sorry to inform you, but there was a mistake during your insemination procedure.”

Her breath caught. She sat upright, pushing Grayson’s hand away from her. He shrugged but didn’t wake up.

“What kind of mistake?” she whispered, slowly stepping out of the room.

“Ma’am. The sperm used for your IVF was not from Grayson Thorne.”

She stiffened, her eyes widening in horror.

“What did you just say?”

“There was a mix-up. The sperm belonged to someone else. We’re really sorry for this misunderstanding.”

Her mind spun. She didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t just a ‘misunderstanding’; this was her life. Grayson’s life.

“This isn’t Grayson’s child?” she whispered, disbelief washing over her.

“Yes, Ms. Quinn,” the nurse confirmed gently. “It’s not his.”

She backed against the wall… trembling, the weight of the news crushing her.

“If this baby is not for Grayson... then whose baby am I carrying?”