Chapter 18

❤️Sophie❤️

For the first time since Adrian entered the dining room, everyone actually freezes. My father's eyes are fixed directly on him. My mother’s fork hangs mid-air above her plate.

My aunt’s jaw drops. And me? I'm trying really hard not to kick him in the leg again.

My father is the first to recover. “Advertisement?”

Adrian nods, unbothered. “Yes, a business advertisement.”

I let out a snort. This man can lie.

He calmly takes another sip of coffee. “One of her designs catches my eye. I asked to meet her.”

I cough so violently tears fill my eyes. I’ve never designed anything in my life.

Adrian hands me a glass of water. “Drink.”

I glare at him. This is your fault.

My mother smiles warmly. “She never told us she was interested in designing.”

That’s because I don't design! I force a smile that probably looks more painful than convincing. Then scan my brain for a reasonable lie. “Well…”

Before I can invent a career my parents don't know for myself, Adrian responds smoothly, “It was a freelance project.”

“Oh,” Mom nods, satisfied. “That explains it.”

No, it doesn't. It explains nothing. I try my best to stay calm.

Dad studies Adrian for a long moment before setting his fork down. “So, what exactly do you do, Mr. Blackwood?”

His reply comes almost immediately. “I invest.”

Dad nods slowly. “Real estate?”

“Among other things.”

Nothing more. No long explanations. No trying to impress anyone. That somehow makes him even more intimidating.

My aunt finally finds her voice. “I've heard your company owns hotels all over the country. Blackstone.”

“It does.”

She smiles. “And hospitals?”

He continues eating. “Several.”

“And that new shopping district downtown.”

He shrugs. “Partly.”

She blinks. “Oh.”

Just ‘oh’. I lower my head to hide a smile. This man answers every question as if he’s paying a fortune for each word.

Mom laughs quietly. “Sophie has always loved quiet men.”

I almost inhale my orange juice. Since when?

Dad looks at me. “Is that true?”

I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “I also like men who explain things.”

For the first time since breakfast started, Adrian turns to look at me, his eyes locking onto mine for a brief moment before he says, “I explain when necessary.”

“There.” I point at him. “Exactly what I was talking about.”

Mom chuckles. “You two already sound like a married couple.”

Married couple. The phrase echoes in my head, giving me an instant headache.

Dad folds his arms on the table, completely abandoning his breakfast. “When exactly did you start seeing each other?”

A terrible silence fills the room. I count exactly three seconds before panic starts creeping up my throat.

Because we never discussed this. Never discussed dates. Never discussed anything normal couples talk about.

I open my mouth, but Adrian speaks first. “Three months ago.”

I freeze. Three months? That was before I even broke up with Sebastian. I wasn’t even pregnant then.

A forced smile appears on my face, even as I kick Adrian slightly under the table.

Dad nods thoughtfully. “So, this wasn’t impulsive.”

“No,” Adrian responds immediately. “I don’t make impulsive decisions.”

I glance sideways at him. Really? Marrying a stranger feels pretty impulsive to me.

He, sensing my thoughts, calmly reaches for his coffee again. “It took considerable thought.”

Liar. A damn convincing liar. I never knew my fake baby daddy could lie like this.

Dad finally leans back in his chair, his expression relaxing for the first time since breakfast began.

“I appreciate one thing, Mr. Blackwood.”

Adrian looks at him. “Which is?”

“That you came.”

“I said I would.”

Dad nods. “A lot of young men would have run from responsibilities like this.”

“The pregnancy is mine; I’m the one taking care of it.”

Warmth spreads through my chest. Without meaning to, I stare at him—really stare at him—though his attention is fixed on my dad.

My dad smiles proudly. “Good.” He exchanges a glance with mom.

Heavy silence again, until my father clears his throat. “There’s one last question.”

I look up. Every instinct tells me I’m not going to like it.

“Okay.”

“So, when should we start planning the wedding?”