Chapter 2 — Not His Baby?

The knock on my door came sharply in the dead of night, shaking me to my bones. My heart thudded painfully as I raced down the stairs of my 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.”

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

“What do you want Grayson,” I yelled, my voice shaking. “Go away.”

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

I swallowed hard, torn between anger and something stubborn inside me that still wanted him.

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

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

“WHAT?” I 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.”

I shook my 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.”

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

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

I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“No,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. “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.”

I wanted to throw him out. God, I 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.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. Part of me 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 I could think it through, his hand brushed my cheek, warm and firm. His eyes searched mine for permission.

I didn’t pull away.

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, Tessa,” he growled, his breath ragged as he pressed his body hard against mine. Without warning, he scooped me up, carrying me like I 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 us, and pinning me against the bed with wild, hot kisses that left me dizzy.

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

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

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

I lost myself in the storm of pleasure, the fierce, intense rhythm of his body moving with mine, the desperate heat pooling in between my legs until I shattered, screaming his name into the night.

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

*********

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

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

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

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

“Yes?” I said, my heart already pounding.

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

My breath caught. I sat upright, pushing Grayson’s hand away from me. He shrugged but didn’t wake up.

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

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

I stiffened, my 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.”

My mind spun. I didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t just a ‘misunderstanding’, this was my life. Grayson’s life.

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

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

I backed against the wall….trembling, the weight of the news crushing me.

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