PREGNANT

SCARLETT 

I stared at the door after he left, still breathing heavy, my body shaking from what we just did. My lips were swollen, my dress was halfway off, and my heart? God, my heart was in pieces. What did he just say?

This can’t happen again.

He said that last time too. And the time before that. But it kept happening. Over and over. Like we were stuck in a loop we didn’t want to get out of.

And I didn’t want to. Not even a little bit. I liked the way he is. His everything that I gradually forgot what my dad's former Secretary told me about him. I'll take care of my dad. But for now. I'll go after my heart. If my dad comes out now. I won't be able to get him.

It was like he had a hold on me—Zayden. Not Vincent. Not my husband. My husband’s father. The one man I wasn’t supposed to want. The one man I couldn’t stop wanting.

It didn’t even take a full day before we were at it again. I still remember that morning like it just happened. I went to give him his coffee. Simple. Normal. But nothing about us was ever normal.

He brushed my hand when taking the cup. Our fingers stayed there a little too long. His eyes locked with mine. He didn’t say a word. Just stood up and walked past me. I followed. Like I always did.

The moment we stepped into the bathroom, he locked the door. I leaned back against the sink, heart pounding. His eyes were dark. Hungry. I didn’t even get to say a word before he pressed me against the counter, lifting my skirt.

His hands were rough, desperate, trembling. I remember the mirror fogging up. My breath hitched every time he moved. It was fast, hot, silent. I bit down on my lip, so hard I tasted blood. But I couldn’t make a sound. Vincent was downstairs.

That was the thrill of it. The silence. The danger. Knowing we were doing something so wrong, but neither of us could stop.

And it didn’t end there.

Another time, Vincent said he was going to the store. I told him I’d come along. He smiled. Zayden didn’t. He just watched us go, like he was planning something.

We reached the store. Vincent went to get a few things. Zayden followed me to the storage room. Locked the door behind us.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“You know exactly what I’m doing,” he muttered, and before I could stop him, his hands were already under my shirt.

He unclasped my bra slowly. Teasing. My heart was racing. My whole body was on fire. And then—he slid inside me. Deep. Hard. I gasped, but slapped my hand over my mouth. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t moan. I just closed my eyes and let it all happen. Fast. Raw. My legs shook with every move he made.

And we kept going. Morning. Afternoon. Midnight. Again and again. In his office. In the car. Even in the living room while Vincent was in the kitchen. The man was addicted. And so was I.

There was something about the way he touched me. The way he held me like he needed me to breathe. He never used protection. Not even once. He didn’t care. I didn’t either. That’s how deep we were in.

And the worst part? Vincent had no idea. He’d come home, smiling, touching my waist, asking how my day went. One night, he even pulled me into bed and whispered, “Honey, are you… are you virgin enough to have sex now?”

My heart nearly stopped. I stared at him, frozen.

Was I virgin enough? What does that even mean?

I didn’t know what to say. I just stared at him like an idiot.

“Are you a virgin or what?” he asked again.

Why didn’t I just tell him the truth? Why didn’t I say, No, your dad has been fucking me stupid every day since I moved in?

But I didn’t. I lied.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I’m a virgin.”

What the hell did I just say?

Me?

A virgin?

I was lying in the same bed where his father had just kissed me hours ago.

“Oh, okay,” Vincent whispered, pulling me close. “Then we’ll take it slow.”

He kissed my forehead, wrapped his arms around me, and I felt like trash.

I was holding a secret that could blow up everything. And I didn’t even want to stop.

Days passed. One. Two. Three. Everything seemed calm. I thought maybe I was okay. That we were okay. But that morning—God, that morning—everything changed.

I went to the office, carrying his schedule like always. My legs were tired. My body was sore in a way that didn’t feel normal. My chest felt tight. I handed him the paper and smiled. But something felt… off.

Suddenly, my heart skipped a beat.

My eyes turned blurry.

Everything was spinning.

“Scarlett?” Zayden’s voice came in faint. “Scarlett, what’s wrong?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My knees gave out. The paper flew from my hands. The room went black.

The next time I opened my eyes, the lights were white. Too white. The smell of disinfectant filled my nose. I blinked, confused, as I stared at the ceiling.

Hospital?

I sat up fast, but pain rushed through my head.

Zayden was sitting right beside me, his face pale, his hands clenched. I looked at him. He looked at the doctor.

“What… happened?” I asked, my voice weak.

Zayden didn’t answer. The doctor stepped forward, a soft smile on his face.

“Congratulations, ma’am,” he said. “You’re pregnant.”

My whole world stopped.

“What?”

I sat up straight, hands flying to my mouth.

Pregnant?

No. That can’t be right. No. No.

Zayden stood there, frozen. His face went blank. He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

I stared at the doctor, then at him.

And right there, my heart dropped.

Because I knew.

It wasn’t Vincent’s.

It was his.

Zayden’s.

My lover.

My secret.

My sin.

And now… it was growing inside me.