I Got Pregnant For The Wrong Twin

SERENA

“You are not going to sleep with a billionaire, Serena. What if you end up pregnant?”

Looking back now, I should have listened to Lola when she told me that on the fateful night when my life changed completely. Maybe I would have saved myself from all this mess. I could have gone down a completely different path, and ended up doing something with my life. But alas, it wasn’t meant to be. I was always meant to encounter ‘him’ that day, not knowing that it would change my life completely.

I should've gone home after the fourth cocktail. Honestly, I told myself I would. We were out in the club to celebrate my job at Knight Enterprises, with an early orientation on Monday and so many responsible grown-up things and all that. Besides, it was Paige’s birthday so we were bound to go out and have a good time anyway.

I told myself I wouldn’t drink too much. After all, I had to be at work on Monday, and the last thing I needed was a hangover over the weekend to completely throw me off my game and make me unable to prepare for Monday. But then Lola ordered tequila shots, raised her glass, and screamed, "To Serena for finally leaving unemployment island!" and suddenly I was doing body rolls in the middle of Fever Nightclub like my life depended on it.

The music was too loud, and the lights were flashing on and off constantly, and I was drunk enough to believe I danced like Rihanna. Lola kept yelling something about how I was going to marry a billionaire now that I worked at Knight Enterprises, and I kept yelling back that I would settle for a billionaire with nice teeth and functional Wi-Fi.

Or maybe we were talking about socks the entire night. To be honest, I don’t really remember.

Everything was spinning in the club after our fifth round of shots, but in a fun and glittery way. I was hot and sweaty all over, but I felt so alive. I’d dressed up and gotten cute for tonight, and I wasn’t going to turn down my last opportunity to party like a maniac. My hair was up in a ponytail, my skirt was tight and short, and my shirt was cut low enough that my boobs looked perfect, with just the right amount of cleavage. I just wanted to look hot, and feel like a bad bitch for once, instead of the timid girl from Wisconsin who’d moved to New York with nothing but a dream and five thousand bucks in her bank account.

Anyway, back to the fateful night. I remember my heels hurting at some point, so I kicked them off and screamed, "Freedom!" at a random couple staring at me. They moved away immediately, and I scoffed at how rude they were.

Lola and I were in the middle of the dance floor, and two random guys were dancing with us. We used our telepathy to communicate, and I already knew I wasn’t going to go home with any of them. They were cute, but not my type. I wanted something hot and steamy tonight. I wanted to feel desire, and I wanted someone who would take my thoughts away with a kiss. I wanted someone who would make me go weak at the knees, and rock my world in the bedroom. But Mr slow dancing to a rap song was definitely not it.

That’s when ‘he’ walked in, and I swear the energy in the entire club changed. He was really tall, with broad shoulders and dark hair that looked like he'd run his hand through it in frustration. He looked like one of those men who look like they hate everyone, and somehow make it sexy. He stood out like he didn't belong there, as he was sharply dressed in a suit with no drink in hand. He was just watching everything, but enjoying nothing.

And I found that intriguing.

Something about him felt off. He didn’t seem dangerous, or completely harmless either. He just like he'd rather be anywhere else, which made me wonder why he was even here. He had this quiet intensity around him, like a storm that was bubbling under the surface.

And of course, my drunk brain said, “Yes, that’s the one I want.”

Before I even realized what I was doing, I slid toward him on the dancefloor (literally slid, because the floor was sticky) and he caught me by the arm before I could fall down, and a surprised look flashed across his face. My first words to him were, "If I die here, bury me in your arms”, and I wanted to die as soon as I said that.

His mouth twitched as I said that, like it almost became a smile but refused at the last second. I was fully expecting him to walk away, but then he helped me up and said, “That can be arranged.”

We danced after that, and there were no words exchanged between us. It was just so much unbearable heat, as his hand pressed softly against the small of my back like he owned every inch of space around me. The air between us felt so charged, like we'd skipped the flirting and gone straight to sexual tension. And when I wrapped my arms around his shoulder and grinned like a lunatic, I thought he was going to kiss me.

"You're drunk," he said, and his voice was calm and low.

"I'm not that drunk," I corrected, poking his extremely hard chest. “And you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Mr…”

He didn't give me a name as he shrugged. He just kept looking at me like he already knew me, which was unsettling. This guy was clearly rich. Like filthy amounts of rich. His perfume alone smelled like it could pay for my whole apartment. And I was pretty sure he was wearing a diamond Rolex.

"Who exactly are you?" I asked, trying not to slur my words.

"Someone you'll forget," he said. “But I’m here to forget someone as well, so maybe we can help each other out.”

That should've been a red flag. But tequila makes me brave and stupid, and his eyes were doing that heavy stare, like he saw right through the pretty hair and eyeliner and he could somehow see the parts of me I pretend don't exist.

And I didn’t know how to feel about that.

"Come upstairs with me," he said suddenly, and I was stunned but how open and upfront he was being.

“Why should I?” I asked.

“Because I want to fuck you,” he said, causing me to sober up just a little bit.

“Excuse you?” I spat. “What do you take me for?”

“You know you want this,” he said, stepping closer to me. “I can see it in your eyes. You want someone to rock your world tonight. Let me be that for you.”

I should have said no. Even then, a part of me was screaming at me to not do it. But I was so hot and horny, and I liked the idea of a one night stand with a millionaire. He was so handsome and sexy, and I just wanted to kiss him and let him take me. So I grinned and said, "If you turn out to be a serial killer, I'm going to come back and haunt you."

He chuckled lightly, then he turned and started walking away. I quickly pulled Lola away from the guy she was dancing with and told her where I was heading, but she didn’t want me to go.

“I think I’ve seen that guy before,” she said when I pointed him out to her. “He’s a fucking billionaire, S. You’re not going to sleep with a billionaire, Serena. What if you end up pregnant?”

“We’ll use a condom,” I replied, already moving away from her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Keep your phone with you,” she called as I hurried off to the entrance, where he was standing and waiting impatiently for me. I forgot my heels, and at least forty percent of my dignity on that dancefloor. But none of that mattered as I followed the handsome stranger with a storm in his eyes, up the velvet stairs of Fever Nightclub, toward the hotel wing attached above.

My pulse was wild as he held my hand and led me upstairs, and my body was louder than my mind. I knew there was something wrong about him, but I didn't care. I just wanted to feel something other than sober.

The hallway to his room felt impossibly long, as the carpet swallowed our footsteps, and the air was thick with things we hadn't said. I was buzzing from the alcohol and the adrenaline, whatever darkness lived in his eyes. He unlocked the door without a word, and the moment it clicked shut behind us, something in him shifted.

He pinned me gently against the wall suddenly with no smile and no warning, and his mouth was on mine immediately. He started slowly at first, like he was testing because he didn't trust himself, while I melted into his arms. But then it got deeper and hotter, and far more desperate. He tasted like whiskey and lemons, while I tasted like reckless decisions.

“Fuck!” he groaned as he pulled away. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“I know,” I replied breathlessly. “Now fuck me, pretty boy.”

I stopped thinking about names or reasons after that. The only thing I could focus on were our hands. I gasped as his fingers slid into my hair, while I grabbed a fistful of his shirt. Our bodies moved like we'd done this a thousand times, and like tonight was inevitable.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured against my lips. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

"I'd rather die," I gasped, already pulling at his buttons. “I want you right now.”

Our clothes vanished in an instant. I don't even remember how. One minute, I was still in my skirt. The next, I was in nothing but my bare skin and his breath on my collarbone. My back hit the mattress as soon as he took off my bra, then he hovered above me with his dark eyes studying me like he was trying to memorize my face.

“Wait are you waiting for?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head as he reached for his bedside drawer. “I just think you’re very beautiful. And I want to remember this moment.”

And then, suddenly, he froze.

"Shit," he muttered as his voice suddenly turned sharp. His hand dragged through his hair. "No condom."

I blinked at him and said, "Seriously?"

"I don't…" He exhaled hard, frustrated. "I didn't plan..."

He looked ready to pull away and end this. And maybe if I'd been sober, I would've thanked him for caring. But I wasn't. I was drunk and aching and convinced that the world would end if he stopped touching me.

"It's fine," I breathed, pulling him back down. "I'll risk it."

His eyes locked on mine then, and something flickered in them like a warning, or guilt or hunger.

"This is a bad idea," he said.

"Most fun things are."

“Are you on the pill?”

“No, I’m not,” I replied.

“You could get pregnant,” he said.

“I won’t,” I replied. “I’m sure.”

That was it. He gave in.

His mouth found my neck again, while his hand curled around my thigh. And oh God, the moment he slid inside me, I could have cried out from ecstasy. I barely recognized the sounds leaving my lips. He was so big, and he filled me up so completely that it was like we’d been made for each other.

I didn't think about consequences, or tomorrow morning when I would have to face reality. All I could think about was him, his lips on my breasts, his hands in my hair, and the way he was moving inside me.

When we finally came, it was like a wave of blinding pleasure. He gripped the sheets beside my head like he was trying not to lose himself completely, while I clung to him like I already had. It was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had, and I already knew there would never be another one like it.

Afterward, the room fell silent. Only our breathing remained as he sank beside me, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I curled up against him, with my cheek pressed to his bare skin, heavy with drunken satisfaction. I noticed a tiny birthmark just under his left arm, and it looked like a map of Italy. It was barely visible, and I traced it with my finger while he chuckled and moved away.

“That tickles,” he said.

“You want me to stop?” I asked.

“I want you to kiss me again,” he said, stroking my hair. “But we’ll do that later. You still haven’t told me your name though.”

“It’s Serena,” I said. “Serena Hale.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Hale,” he said, still stroking my hair.

Sleep took me quickly after that conversation, before I could even ask his name. I dozed off while wrapped in the arms of a stranger whose name I never learned, but someone I would never forget.

And the next day, I woke up to find him gone, with a note on the bedside table that simply said,

‘Last night was fun. Please see yourself out,

A.’

*****

Three whole weeks passed after that, and I was still pretending nothing happened. I tried to forget about the mysterious stranger, and the anonymous hotel bed. I convinced myself it was fine, and it was just a reckless, drunken secret sealed in the dark. After all, we were never going to see each other again. I could focus on my new job, and my new life at Knight Enterprises.

I wore my best cream blouse on my first day, while trying to ignore my nervousness. I packed my lunch like a responsible adult. I even rehearsed my introduction in the bathroom mirror.

"Hi, I'm Serena, it's great to be here." Then I would smile, but not psychotically.

I arrived right on time, and I met up with Claire Stetson from HR, who showed me where I would be stationed. My cubicle was small but cute, and it was on a wide and open floor with dozens of other people who completely ignore me. I placed my cactus (Sir Stabsalot) on the desk and was arranging my pens when Claire from HR suddenly rushed past, looking breathless and terrified.

"They're coming," she announced to the whole floor, and everyone gasped as files started sailing across the room, and everyone raced to look professional.

"Who's coming?" I asked, leaning over to the woman in the cubicle next to mine. She stared at me blankly, then she said, "The Knight twins."

Oh, right. The owners of the company, who were basically billionaire royalty. I'd heard stories of Adrian Knight, the icy CEO, and his younger twin, Aiden, the scandal. They were extremely private, so I wasn’t even sure what they looked like or anything. And I hadn’t even bothered to check.

Still, I smoothed my hair just a little bit. I was not going to fangirl just because I’d heard how hot they were. I was just going to be professional, and…

And then the office went silent as the doors opened and they walked in. I turned slowly, bracing myself for the infamous Knight twins.

And everything inside me dropped.

It was him.

The hallway, the nightclub and the bed, all of it came crashing back in one crushing wave.

But it wasn't just him.

There were two of him.

They were identical, walking side by side like some cruel joke from the universe. They had the same face, the same jaw, and the same storm in their eyes. My heart started pounding so violently I nearly knocked over Sir Stabsalot.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

One of them glanced over the office, and his eyes stopped on me. I stopped breathing, and I almost farted out of pure terror. Did he recognize me? Was he the man from that night? The stranger who never gave me his name? The one whose skin I slept on?

Or was it his twin brother?

I didn't know. I couldn't tell, because now there were two. One wore a charcoal suit, and his was face unreadable, cold and calculating. The other was in a loosened tie, with the faintest smirk on his lips like everything amused him.

They passed by, and palms were sweating the entire time until they walked away.

Someone whispered behind me, "That's Adrian and Aiden Knight."

Which was which? Who was mine? Who had I…

My stomach twisted, and all I wanted to do was scream.

Fuck!

I slept with a Knight.

But which one?

***