CHAPTER 5

MAYA POV

The clinic didn't look like a doctor’s office. It looked like a five-star hotel, tucked away on a private floor of a building that didn't have a sign on the door. Marcus had been waiting at the curb at exactly eight o’clock, silent and professional as he drove me through the morning fog.

I sat on the edge of the plush exam table, the paper covering crinkling under me. A woman in a sharp white coat, Dr. Aris, was looking at a monitor with a focused expression. The room was quiet, except for the rhythmic, low hum of the ultrasound machine.

"Alright, Maya," Dr. Aris said, her voice soft. "Let’s take a look."

I stared at the screen. At first, it was just grey static and blurred shapes. Then, she moved the wand, and things began to clear.

"There," she pointed. "That’s one."

I felt a lump form in my throat. It was real. A tiny, flickering pulse.

"And..." The doctor paused, her eyebrows knitting together as she adjusted the settings. She moved the wand slightly to the left. "Wait a moment. Maya, look here."

She pointed to another small shape. And then, another one right beside it.

My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I thought it might bruise. "Is that... what is that?"

"Those are heartbeats," Dr. Aris said, turning the monitor so I could see better. "One, two... and three. You’re having triplets, Maya."

The air left the room. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. My hands began to shake, and I gripped the edges of the table until my fingers went numb.

"Triplets?" I finally managed to whisper. "Are you sure?"

"The imaging is very clear. It’s rare, but it happens," she explained, printing out a strip of black-and-white photos. "They all look healthy and well-implanted. But this changes things. A multiple pregnancy is high-risk. You’ll need a lot of rest and very specific care."

I took the photos with trembling hands. Three lives. Not one, but three.

Julian was waiting in the lobby of the clinic. He wasn't sitting down; he was pacing near the window, his phone pressed to his ear. The moment he saw me walk out, he ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket.

He scanned my face, his eyes landing on the small white envelope in my hand. He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't ask if I was pregnant. He just held out his hand.

I handed him the envelope.

Julian pulled out the ultrasound photos. He stood perfectly still in the middle of the hallway. I watched his eyes move across the images, tracing the three distinct shapes Dr. Aris had marked.

"Three?" he asked. His voice was unusually thick.

"Triplets," I confirmed. I leaned against the wall, my legs feeling like they were made of water. "She said they’re healthy."

Julian looked up from the photos. The cold, calculated CEO I had seen in the boardroom was gone for a split second. He looked stunned, almost vulnerable. But then, as quickly as it had appeared, the mask slipped back into place. He tucked the photos into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, right over his heart.

"Marcus is waiting," he said.

"Julian, we need to talk about this," I said, catching his sleeve. "This isn't just a 'situation' anymore. It's three babies. I can't just move into your penthouse and act like... like what? Like I’m your wife? Your mistress?"

"You’ll be the mother of my children," he said, turning to face me. "That’s the only title that matters right now."

"I have a career. I have a life."

"You have a high-risk pregnancy," he countered, his voice firm. "Did the doctor not tell you that? You can't be working sixty hours a week on marketing campaigns while carrying three infants. You can barely stand up without looking like you’re going to faint."

"I can manage," I argued, though my stomach gave a traitorous lurch at the mention of work.

"You won't have to," Julian said. He stepped closer, his shadow falling over me. "I’ve already had my legal team draft the paperwork. It’s a residency agreement. You live with me, you get the best medical care in the country, and in exchange, you don't have to worry about a single bill or a single phone call from your ex-boyfriend ever again."

"And after they’re born?" I asked. "What happens then? Do you take them and send me on my way with a check?"

Julian’s eyes darkened. He reached out, his hand cupping my jaw, his thumb brushing over my lower lip. The intensity in his gaze was enough to make my knees buckle.

"I don't throw away what belongs to me, Maya. And these children? They are mine. Just as much as you are."

"I don't belong to you," I whispered, though I didn't pull away.

"We’ll see about that," he murmured. He let go of my face and gestured toward the exit. "Let’s go. I’ve already had the guest wing renovated. Your things are already there."

We walked out of the clinic and into the bright afternoon sun. Marcus held the door open for us. As we pulled away from the curb, I looked out the window at the city passing by. Everything had changed in less than forty-eight hours. My life as Maya Brooks, the independent marketing lead, was over.

Julian opened his laptop, but he didn't start typing. He reached over and took my hand, his fingers interlacing with mine. His grip was tight, possessive.

"Julian?" I asked, looking at our joined hands.

"Don't think too much, Maya," he said, his eyes fixed on the screen. "Just breathe. From now on, your only job is to stay healthy."

The car turned onto the private drive leading to his estate. I looked at the black-and-white photos peeking out of his pocket.

"Julian," I said as the car came to a stop. "Are you going to tell your family?"

Julian turned off his laptop and looked at the massive glass-and-steel house waiting for us. "My family doesn't exist, Maya. Neither does yours, after what happened with your parents. It’s just us. And them."

He stepped out of the car and held his hand out to me, waiting for me to take the final step into his world.