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Chapter 10- to protect

last update publish date: 2026-09-07 14:35:15

Dorian explained what I knew was coming. He was a billionaire with many things to his name, of course people would meddle in his life. I’ve seen these cases before, plus it would be better if we write our story than the reporters forming crazy stories.

I sighed “But even if we do show publicly, how do we keep it up, eventually the baby bump will show and they’ll make stories of it”

He nodded. “I’ll handle that part. I’d prefer to keep my family life private, but I understand there’s a difference between private and hidden. Hidden is what gets you caught off guard. Private is something you control on your own terms.”

“And what does ‘showing publicly’ actually look like?” I asked. “Dinners? Events? Do I have to smile for the cameras and pretend I know what I’m doing?”

“Nothing you’re not comfortable with.” He leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed loosely. “A few appearances, enough that if anyone does dig, there’s already a story instead of a mystery for them to invent one. Adrian can handle most of the logistics. You wouldn’t have to manage any of it yourself.”

What if they find out I was with Trent,” I reasoned. “If they check the timeline, they’ll assume I cheated on him with you before the divorce was finalized, not that this happened the way it actually did.”

Something in his expression sharpened, like he’d already thought about this and hadn’t wanted to bring it up first.

“That’s a real risk,” he admitted. “The papers were only filed a few weeks ago. Even with the divorce finalized, the dates alone will look bad if someone puts them side by side without context.”

“So what, we just let people think I’m the kind of woman who cheats on her husband with a billionaire?” My voice rose slightly, old anger from the kitchen resurfacing. “That’s not a story I can control once it’s out there.”

“No one thinks that if we’re careful,” he said. “Adrian can get ahead of it. Statements confirming the divorce predates any public appearance, timestamps on the filing, if it comes to that. The truth actually works in our favor here, the papers being filed before any of this happened is the entire point.”

I paused for a second “who’s Adrian?”

“My personal assistant”

I nodded, taking notes,“The truth doesn’t matter once people decide on a story they like better,” I said. “I’ve watched people build entire cases on inference instead of fact. It doesn’t matter what’s true. It matters what’s convenient to believe.”

He was quiet for a moment, studying me like he was recalibrating something.

“You’re right,” he said. “I can’t promise no one prints an ugly version of this. What I can promise is that we don’t hand it to them by staying silent and letting them fill in the blanks themselves.” He paused. “But if you’re not comfortable with any of this, if the risk feels like too much, I need you to tell me now. Not after we’ve already started something we can’t undo cleanly.”

“And the baby?” I pressed. “Once I’m actually showing, what’s the story then? Girlfriend? Something more official?”

Something flickered across his face, gone before I could name it.

“That’s the part I haven’t fully worked out,” he admitted. “I have thoughts. I don’t want to hand them to you like a decision that’s already been made. This has to be something we agree on together, not something I hand you finished.”

I studied him for a moment, turning the whole thing over. How this was going to determine how our life is going to be.

“Say it,” I said quietly. “Whatever the thought is. I’d rather hear it messy than polished.”

He was quiet for a second, like he hadn’t expected me to ask it that directly.

“Marriage,” he said finally.

“Eventually. Not right away, not until you’re ready, if you’re ever ready at all. But if we’re building a public story anyway, I’d rather it be one that actually protects you and the baby long term, not just for a news cycle.”

I sat with that for a moment, weighing the risk of a lie the world might believe against the risk of silence that would definitely leave room for one.

“I need to think about it,” I said finally. “Not because I don’t trust you. Because this isn’t just my reputation anymore. It’s the baby’s too, eventually.”

“That’s fair,” he said, the look and tone in his voice told me he meant it.

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  • HIS BY MISTAKE    Chapter 10- to protect

    Dorian explained what I knew was coming. He was a billionaire with many things to his name, of course people would meddle in his life. I’ve seen these cases before, plus it would be better if we write our story than the reporters forming crazy stories. I sighed “But even if we do show publicly, how do we keep it up, eventually the baby bump will show and they’ll make stories of it” He nodded. “I’ll handle that part. I’d prefer to keep my family life private, but I understand there’s a difference between private and hidden. Hidden is what gets you caught off guard. Private is something you control on your own terms.” “And what does ‘showing publicly’ actually look like?” I asked. “Dinners? Events? Do I have to smile for the cameras and pretend I know what I’m doing?” “Nothing you’re not comfortable with.” He leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed loosely. “A few appearances, enough that if anyone does dig, there’s already a story instead of a mystery for them to in

  • HIS BY MISTAKE    Chapter 9: Small Hours

    Three weeks passed the way weeks do when you stop counting them, in small pieces instead of one long stretch. I learned the house the way I hadn’t let myself the first few days, which cabinet had the good mugs, which floorboard near the library creaked, the fact that Marta hummed old boleros under her breath when she thought no one was listening. I learned Dorian’s schedule too, without meaning to. Gone before seven most mornings. Home late, sometimes past ten, sometimes not at all if a deal in another time zone kept him tethered to his phone through the night. We fell into something that almost passed for normal. Breakfast some mornings, when our schedules happened to overlap. A text here and there, mostly logistics, when’s your next appointment, do you need the car, Marta says you didn’t eat again. Small things. Careful things. Neither of us reaching for more than that, not after the kitchen, not after I’d told him I wanted to know the difference between duty and desire an

  • HIS BY MISTAKE    Chapter 8- Back to Ines

    I didn’t see Dorian again before I left for the hospital. Marta found me in the guest wing an hour after breakfast, mentioning that a car was ready whenever I needed it, that Mr. Reyes had arranged it the night before, before any of what happened in the kitchen. I didn’t know if that made it feel more thoughtful or less, a kindness planned in advance instead of one that came from anything he actually felt in the moment. I decided not to examine that thought too closely. There was too much in my head at the moment. The drive back to the clinic felt different than it had two nights ago, less like walking toward the end of something and more like walking toward an answer I still didn’t fully have. My hand kept finding my stomach without permission the whole way there, like some part of me needed the reminder that this was real, that all of it, the mistake, the house, the man who apparently couldn’t tell the difference between duty and desire, had led back here, to this baby, to

  • HIS BY MISTAKE    Chapter 7-duty vs desire

    My whole body went pale seeing the broken bowl on the ground “Noelle?” I heard his voice behind me startling me more I immediately went on my knees trying to gather the pieces “I’m so sorry. I didn’t –“ he pulled my hands off the glass making me stand up “but–” “You’ll hurt yourself” he said looking at the mess on the floor and I bit my lip trying not start crying, I literally just got here and I broke something probably worth more than some of my properties combine “I’ll get a broom, don’t move” he told me I nodded, my hands turned cold so I had to rub them to warm them up. He came and carefully swept off the broken pieces, when he was done he quietly walks back into the kitchen, I didn’t know if he was mad or not, obviously he would be mad but I couldn’t tell cause his face remained composed “I’m sorry” I whispered audibly for him to hear. He remained calm not responding to my voice “I–” “I assume you came here because you’re hungry” he asked me and I think my brai

  • HIS BY MISTAKE    Chapter 6 -A house that isn’t mine

    I texted him my address and within an hour a car was parked outside my door. The car Dorian sent was quiet in a way that made my thoughts louder. No music, no small talk from the driver, just the hum of tires on the highway and my own reflection in the window, looking like someone I didn’t fully recognize yet. I hadn’t packed much. A duffel bag with clothes I grabbed without really looking at them, my laptop, some of my documents and the folder Ines had given me with the clinic’s information, still unopened. Everything else I owned was still sitting in a house that didn’t feel like mine anymore. After a long drive we reached a gate that opened before the car even slowed down, like someone had been watching for us. The driveway passed a stretch of trees, and then the house came into view, and I understood for the first time that “house” was the wrong word for it. It was enormous. Modern, all glass and pale stone, lit from the inside in a way that made it look like it was glowin

  • HIS BY MISTAKE    Chapter 5- Second betrayal

    “I need time,” I said, before he could say anything else. “I’ve had six hours of information I didn’t ask for, and I can’t take in one more thing tonight. I need to just breathe. Think. Alone.” He nods “that’s fair” I reached for the door handle again, and this time nothing stopped me, until his voice caught me halfway through it. “Ms. Noelle.” I turned, bracing for whatever this was. He pulled out a card walking towards me, I watched him as he placed a card into my hand . His scent flooded my senses, it was then when I looked up to him I realized how tall he was. “That’s my personal card. I have a guest wing at my house, private, its own entrance if you want it. You wouldn’t have to see me if you didn’t want to. I’m rarely even home before midnight most days. I just thought it would be more comfortable than a hotel, or going back somewhere that doesn’t feel safe anymore.” For a second, the offer almost sounded reasonable enough to consider. Then I remembered who was offerin

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