Surprise!

**Caspian's point of view**

My face drained of all color.

Pregnant?

It couldn't be. There was no fucking way. I always pulled out; I had never once finished inside her.

We'd been careful about that from the very beginning, making sure there was never any chance of this exact situation happening.

As if she could read my mind, Isla suddenly burst out laughing.

She doubled over, clutching her stomach, tears forming at the corners of her eyes from laughing so hard.

"Oh my God, your face!" she managed to get out between fits of laughter.

"You should have seen yourself just now. You looked like you were about to pass out!"

I just stared at her, still trying to catch up.

"It was a prank, baby," she said, wiping her eyes and grinning at me. "What's a birthday without a birthday prank?"

The tension that had locked up every muscle in my body finally released. I let out a long breath, one hand coming up to rub my face.

"Jesus Christ, Isla."

"Come on, it was funny!" She was still giggling, clearly proud of herself.

I forced a smile, shaking my head. "That was rather an expensive prank, don't you think?"

She tilted her head, the grin still playing on her lips. "What do you mean? Wouldn't you be happy if I was pregnant?"

The way she asked it was casual, light, like it was a simple question with a simple answer. But I could feel the weight behind it.

She knew damn well why that wasn't a good idea. She'd been there for every conversation about it, every time I'd laid out exactly why we couldn't afford to make a mistake like that.

I walked towards her and cupped her face in my hands, looking into her eyes.

"Isla, listen to me. We can't afford to have a baby right now. Not with everything going on."

"But why not? We love each other. Isn't that enough?"

"It's not about that." I stroked my thumb across her cheek, trying to keep my voice patient.

"Nia has the upper hand in this marriage. She has the money, she has the connections, she has the fucking lawyers on speed dial. If she finds out about us, really finds out, she'll destroy everything. And if there's a baby involved? It gets ten times worse. The courts, the press, all of it. We can't afford mistakes. Not now."

Isla's bubbly expression faded slowly. Her lips pressed together and she looked away, a small crease forming between her eyebrows.

I hated seeing her upset.

"Hey," I said gently, tilting her chin back up so she was looking at me. "Don't do that. Don't get moody on me."

"I'm not moody."

"You are. I can see it."

She let out a small huff but didn't argue.

I thought for a second, then asked, "How about this? Let's get out of here. Go to our spot for lunch. Just you and me. No talk about Nia, no talk about work. Just us."

Her expression shifted immediately. The clouds parted and her bubbly smile came back, bright and infectious.

"Really? You're not going to work today?"

"It's my birthday. I'd rather spend it with you."

"Yes!" She practically bounced on her feet, clapping her hands together like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Okay, okay, let me go get ready. This is going to be so fun!"

We both went upstairs to get ready, and I watched her disappear into the bathroom with a spring in her step.

We spent the whole day together.

Isla knew exactly how to make me forget about the rest of the world. She laughed easily, touched me constantly, and made everything feel lighter than it actually was.

We ate at our usual spot, a small Italian place tucked away on a quiet street where nobody knew who I was or what I did.

She ordered for both of us, insisted on paying as a birthday treat even though I almost snatched the bill away. She fed me dessert with a spoon while making ridiculous faces that made me laugh so hard.

But even with all of that, I couldn't stop thinking about Nia.

At one point, while Isla had gone to use the restroom, I pulled out my phone and checked.

Nothing.

No missed calls. No texts. No messages of any kind.

It was already past five in the evening.

I stared at the screen, a strange feeling settling in my chest. Disappointment, maybe. Which was ridiculous, because I knew Nia didn't love me. Not even the slightest.

But still. For five years, she had celebrated my birthday. Every single year, without exception, she made it into something special.

So why hadn't she done anything today?

My heartbeat picked up.

Could it be that she knows something? Is that why she didn't celebrate today like she always does?

I exhaled heavily and ran a hand through my hair, trying to calm the growing unease in my gut. I was probably overthinking this. She probably just forgot, or got caught up with something. It didn't mean anything.

Isla came back from the restroom, and I shoved the phone back into my pocket before she could see the screen.

"You okay?" she asked, studying my face.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Later that evening, when we finally arrived home, we were met with an empty house. No lights on downstairs. No sounds coming from the kitchen. Nothing.

Isla kicked off her shoes and looked around, then back at me with a shrug.

"She'll probably be back tomorrow. It's not like she has anywhere else to go anyway. Where would she even run to?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. You're probably right."

But deep down, something didn't sit right with me.

That night, after Isla had fallen asleep beside me, I couldn't close my eyes.

Eventually, I gave up on sleep. I got up carefully, making sure not to wake her, and walked down the hallway to Nia's room.

I turned the handle and stepped inside.

Everything looked exactly the way it always did. Her clothes hung neatly in the closet. Her jewelry boxes sat on the dresser, untouched.

Nothing was out of place; not a single thing seemed missing.

I stood there for a moment, scanning the room one more time.

Maybe Isla was right after all. Nia didn't have anywhere else to go. Even if she wanted to leave, where the hell would she actually go?

I let out a breath and headed back to my room. I slid back into bed beside Isla and pulled her close, wrapping my arm around her waist.

The next day, I left Isla at home and headed to work early.

Today was a big day. We had a major corporate event planned; investors, business partners, and some of the most important people in the industry were all going to be there. It had been in the works for weeks, and everything had to go perfectly.

I arrived just in time, and thankfully, Sarah, my P.A, had already handled most of the setup.

"Everything's in place," she told me as I walked through the venue, adjusting my tie.

"The keynote slides are loaded, the sound system checked out this morning, and the catering team is on schedule."

"Good. And the guest list?"

"Everyone confirmed. We're expecting about eighty guests. Some of the biggest names in the industry will be here."

I nodded, feeling the familiar buzz of pre-event adrenaline kick in.

The guests started arriving, and I greeted them one by one at the entrance, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. Smiles and small talk came naturally to me; it was a skill I'd perfected over years of navigating business dinners and corporate events.

When the time came, I climbed the stage, the spotlight hitting me as I reached the podium. The room fell quiet almost immediately, eyes turning to me in anticipation.

I cleared my throat and began my speech.

"Good evening, everyone. Thank you all for being here today. This company wouldn't be where it is today without the incredible support of every single person in this room..."

I was maybe three minutes in, settling into my rhythm, when it happened.

The large screen behind me flickered to life.

I paused, confused. I glanced over at Sarah, who was standing off to the side with a clipboard. Her eyes were locked on the screen, her face frozen in a look of utter confusion. She shook her head slightly, mouthing something I couldn't make out.

The screen wasn't supposed to come on yet. It was meant to display the company slides later in the presentation, not now.

I turned back to the audience, deciding to just push through it and ignore whatever technical glitch was happening behind me. I opened my mouth to continue my speech.

But the words died in my throat.

The faces staring back at me had changed. The polite, attentive expressions from seconds ago were gone.

Some of them wore shock, their mouths slightly open, eyes wide.

Others looked disgusted, their lips curled in barely concealed revulsion. A few people in the front row were already pulling out their phones, holding them up like they were recording.

I turned back to the screen slowly.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

Fuck.