Chapter 20

❤️Sophie❤️

My fingers curl against the leather seat. Outside, the bodyguards move with frightening precision. One disappears behind the SUV ahead. Another speaks quietly into the microphone clipped beneath his collar.

No one is shouting. No one is running. That somehow makes it worse. I look at Adrian; he’s not looking out of the window.

He’s staring at me. “Stay where you are,” his voice is calm. Too calm.

“What…what’s happening?”

“I don't know yet.”

“You don't know?” My voice rises despite myself, “Your men are pulling out guns.”

“They are doing their job.”

His answer should have reassured me, but instead, it sends another wave of fear crashing through me. The words from yesterday suddenly echo in my head.

Emergency. Kidnapping. My enemies. I actually laughed when I heard those words. I'm not laughing anymore.

My breathing becomes uneven. This is not happening. I'm not supposed to get dragged into whatever dangerous billionaire game this is.

I just needed someone to pretend to be my boyfriend. My fingers dig into the edge of the seat, and my stomach twists violently.

At first, I think it’s fear. Then nausea hits me hard.

A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. I swallow once, then twice. It doesn't help.

Adrian notices from his seat, his eyes narrowing slightly, “What is it?”

I shake my head, “nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m……” the word never leaves my mouth; my hand flies over my lips to stop whatever’s about to come out.

My stomach lurches again—oh my God!

I try to turn my head away, but I don't make it. Everything comes up. The sound fills the silent cabin. For one horrifying second, the only sound I hear is my loud breathing.

I slowly lower my trembling hand—shit.

The front of Adrian’s perfectly tailored black suit is covered. His shirt. His tie. Even his expensive watch didn't escape.

My face burns so hot I think I might actually pass out. “I……” my voice refuses to work. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Someone should kill me, right now. I just threw up on one of the richest men in the country.

Silence stretches. I wait for him to lose his temper, to yell, to tell me how much that suit cost. Instead, he watches me with an expression I’ve never seen on him before.

Recognition. Fear. Raw, unfamiliar fear.

“Sophie.” his jaw tightens, “are you….”

My stomach tightens again, and I clutch it—fuck!

Something flashes across his face. He leans down until his face is a few inches from mine. “Are you in pain?”

Pain? No!

“What?”

He grips my wrist, his hand warm, mine freezing. His thumb presses against my pulse. “fuck, you are shaking.”

“I….that’s because I vomited all over your clothes.”

He doesn't even glance down; his entire attention is on my stomach. Before I process what’s happening, he presses the button beside his seat.

The intercom crackles, “Sir?”

“Hospital.”

My head snaps up. “What?”

“We are changing destination,”

I blink. “No, I'm fine, it’s morning sickness.”

For the first time since I’ve known him, he looks completely unsettled. And it surprises me big time.

“We are going to the hospital.”

I remove my hand from my stomach. “I'm fine!” I yell unintentionally. Who the hell goes to the hospital for pregnancy nausea?

He’s not listening. He’s busy barking orders, making my head hurt.

“It’s normal.”

“According to whom?”

“According to… every pregnant woman ever.”

“I prefer doctors.”

“You think I'm dying because I threw up?”

His answer is immediate, “I think you are carrying a child, and I don't take chances.”

For a moment, I don't know what to say. The intercom crackles again, “Boss, road is clear.”

Adrian doesn't hesitate. “Proceed to the Blackwood hospital.”

“Right away.”

I slump against my seat and bury my head in my hands. “This is so embarrassing. I just ruined your shirt.”

“It’s fine.”

Nope. It’s not. I just committed a crime. “I'm never recovering from this.”

His eyes soften a little, just enough for me to notice. “Good.”

“That means next time you will tell me you are feeling unwell before it gets this far.”

I open my mouth to argue, to tell him I can't predict when I’m going to throw up, but I close it back.

The convoy speeds to the hospital as if they are carrying someone in an emergency.

Adrian's knuckles clench the seat; he’s staring straight out the window, and something tells me he’s deliberately avoiding looking at me.