He called me a liar. A gold-digger. Then he left me pregnant, humiliated, and broken. Five years later, I built a life he was never supposed to touch again. A daughter. A thriving wedding business. A version of me that doesn’t beg. But fate has a cruel sense of humor. Because the next wedding I’m hired to plan? His. He doesn’t remember me. Not the nights. Not the promises. Not the baby he never met. And when his perfect little bride ends up in a coma days before the ceremony? Nicholas De Castello....cold, ruthless, and still disgustingly beautiful....makes me an offer I can’t afford to refuse... “Pretend to be my wife. Or I’ll destroy everything you’ve built.” Now I’m trapped in his world again. In his house. In his lies. With the man who broke me once... …and the daughter he doesn’t know is his sleeping in the next room.
View MoreI stared at the tiny white stick in my hand. Two red lines.
My heart sped up, a wild blend of hope and fear. I held the test up again under the bathroom light. Looked once more. Still two lines. A shaky laugh slipped from my lips.
"Oh God..."
My hand covered my mouth, but a smile broke through anyway. This is real. This is… our baby.
I leaned back against the wall of the executive floor’s private restroom, my breath still uneven, my mind still reeling.
"He's going to be a father," I whispered. "And I'm... going to be a mother."
What would Nicholas say? Would he be happy? Would he panic? Get angry?
Our relationship had never been clearly defined. Not in the entire year we’d been doing… whatever this was. No labels. No promises. No future plans. Just secret nights, stolen glances that said more than words ever could, and that awful habit of pretending not to care in the daylight while desperately needing each other in the dark.
I loved him. Too deeply. But I knew where I stood. He was a De Castello heir. I was just the secretary who dared to dream.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
My makeup was nearly gone. My eyes were glassy.
“Don’t be stupid, Maya,” I murmured. “This isn’t a nightmare. This is… a beginning. Something real.”
Something deep inside me whispered: Tell him. He deserves to know.
And maybe.... just maybe....he’ll be happy too.
I fixed my hair, reapplied what little makeup hadn’t melted off, and walked out of the bathroom. My legs felt heavy, but I headed straight toward the last office down the hall. Nicholas’s.
The door was ajar. His voice hit me first. Deep. Sharp and laced with anger.
“Don’t talk to me about losses when I’ve carried this damn company on my back for the last three years!” His tone was harsh, and even though he spoke in English, that Italian bite always showed up when he exploded. “Tell Papa if he wants a perfect son so badly, he should’ve married his whore secretary and spared the rest of us the circus.”
I stood outside the door, silent. My chest tightened. This wasn’t the right time. But when, Maya?
Time doesn’t wait for women like me.
He slammed his phone down, then rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers.
His shirt was half-unbuttoned, his tie loose, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, veins on his arms pulled taut and tan. And those eyes...Frustrated.
Still painfully attractive in the most annoying way.
He looked up. “What?”
I stepped inside slowly and closed the door behind me. “Nico... I need to talk to you.”
“If this is about the Borea Mining contract revisions, move it to three. I—”
“It’s not work-related.”
He stopped. His eyes locked onto mine. Narrowed a little. He knew me. Too well. “What is it?” His voice was quieter now, but still cold.
My hand shook slightly, so I hid it behind my back. I gathered what was left of my courage. “I’m pregnant.”
The silence that followed cut slow and deep. And painful.
His face didn’t react at first. Just... still. Frozen.
Then came a small, bitter smirk. Not the charming kind. The kind that scraped.
“Sure you are,” he let out a short, sharp laugh. “How long have you been sitting on this? Waiting for the right moment to trap me?”
I held his gaze. “I just wanted to be honest.”
“Honest? Maya, we only—” He stopped, exhaled, then laughed again, colder this time. “Of course. Secretary sleeps with the De Castello heir and boom, she’s pregnant. Classic story. How many of you learn that trick from my brother’s mom?”
It stung. Like paper cuts across my heart, slow and sharp. But I didn’t move. I didn’t flinch. “I’m not asking anything from you. I know my place. I just wanted you to know. Because it’s your child too.”
He stepped closer. His gaze cut through me, searching, dissecting. “If you think this will make me marry you or hand over money, you’re dead wrong.”
“I don’t want your money,” I answered flatly. Too tired to be angry. “And I’m not even sure this baby needs you, if this is how you react.”
He went quiet. His jaw clenched. There was something behind all that rage, but I don’t know what it is.
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if this adds to your burden. I know the timing sucks. I know you’re under pressure. But I’m not your brother’s Mom, Nick. I’m not that woman.”
His eyes shut for a moment. The tightness in his jaw slowly loosened. And something in him... cracked, just a little.
He sighed and stepped closer. His large hand cupped my face gently.
“Shit,” he whispered. “I was... too harsh.”
I just stared at him.
Then he pulled me into his arms in his warm embrace. And somehow, it made me want to cry. His embrace was a sweet trap. The kind that kills you softly.
Then his lips brushed my forehead. Soft. Careful. Maybe it was a silent apology.
And for a second... I let myself believe there was still something there.
His hug felt warm. Too warm.
And for just one moment, I wanted to believe this was all a misunderstanding. That he’d change his mind. That he’d look at me and say, ‘We’ll figure this out.’
But hope, as always, was the cruelest kind of drug.
His arms tightened just a little. The edge of his jaw pressed against the crown of my head as he exhaled a long breath. His hand moved slowly up and down my back calmly.
“Maya...” His voice was low. Hoarse.
I held my breath.
“I’m not saying I don’t care. But this isn’t the right time.” His embrace was just a prelude to a deeper kind of wound.
I stiffened in his arms. “What do you mean?”
He pulled back slightly to look at me. That face, too beautiful for the words I knew were about to come. His eyes still held something soft... or maybe I was just too desperate to believe it was real.
“I can’t promise you anything right now,” he said. “Everything’s falling apart. I’m barely hanging on to my seat on the board. Papa’s already halfway to disowning me for Lorenzo. I can’t drag... this complication into the middle of a war, Maya.”
Complication.
“Complication?” I repeated, flatly.
He sighed. “You know what I mean.”
I stepped half a pace back. “No. I don’t think I do.”
His face hardened. This time, all softness was gone. “I’m hoping you’ll consider... ending it.”
I let out a short, bitter laugh. “Ending it?”
“You know what I mean.” He didn’t meet my eyes. “An abortion. Dealing with it before this gets worse for both of us.”
And just like that, the air vanished from the room.
I stared at him because I was seeing someone completely different. The hands that had just touched me so gently... now only looked like the hands of a coward.
I yanked myself out of his arms, fury pouring from me like a dam finally cracked open. “You want me to kill my baby because it’s more convenient for you?”
“This isn’t about convenience,” his voice rising slightly. “It’s about reality. I can’t handle this right now. I can’t even handle myself right now.”
“You think I wanted this to happen?” My voice shook, but my eyes never wavered. “You think this was part of some big plan by the ‘cheap secretary’?”
He clenched his jaw. His eyes pierced mine, full of conflict... and cold.
“Lorenzo is the son of my father’s secretary. Look how that turned out. He’s taken my position. Half the board is backing him. And Papa doesn’t even try to hide his preference anymore. I will not and I WON’T repeat that history.”
“Oh.” I laughed again, louder this time. “So what am I now? A carbon copy of Lorenzo’s mother?”
He didn’t answer.
“I’m not her, Nick. I loved you. I trusted you. And you think this baby is a threat to your reputation?” My voice cracked at the end, but I didn’t care.
“This isn’t about love,” he snapped. “This is business. This is legacy. This is a family that will destroy you just because they don’t like how you breathe.”
“Then they can go to hell with you.”
I grabbed my bag off the desk, eyes brimming with tears, but I never looked away from him.
He just stood there with no apology this time and no arms reaching for me.
Only his fear. And his pride.
The two things that always won the war inside him.
I nodded slowly, or more accurately, pretended to examine my thumbnail while trying to process what he’d just said.The face.The voice.Sometimes… a green-eyed woman.Did he know it was me? Or was it just ...(what’s the word..?) some kind of visual residue from his malfunctioning brain? A faint crack in the glass of his memory, showing glimpses of a past he couldn’t place? Or worse… maybe he did know it was me, and chose to let it slip away anyway. Like I was just a vague nightmare he could hit “skip” on the moment he opened his eyes.Great, but why did it have to be the eyes? Why not, oh I don’t know… my bad jokes? My hair? My great boobs?Why did it have to be something so poetic?I took a deep breath and looked back out the window. The sky was too peaceful for human chaos. The clouds rolled on gracefully below, the world humming along like it wasn’t holding its breath while I sat here next to the man who once lit my heart on fire and vanished without a trace.I let out a quiet sig
The SUV glided smoothly past the automatic gates, rolling into a private area where, somehow, the air itself felt more expensive. This wasn’t your average airport. No flight delay announcements. No sweaty people hauling plastic suitcases. No screaming children fighting over window seats.Just a stretch of quiet concrete and… a plane.Not a regular plane, of course. A matte black private jet with a tail that caught the morning light like the scales of an overpriced snake. Two crew members stood beside it in all-black uniforms.Angela got out first, dragging Sushi’s carrier behind her while the cat let out a low growl that sounded vaguely like a threat. I followed, tugging my hoodie to shield myself from the sun that was suddenly way too bright. Then came Sienna... still wearing her mermaid costume, sunglasses still perched on her face, and pulling a glittery suitcase like she was stepping onto a red carpet. I squinted. Sienna adjusted her shades with two fingers. And then… she walked.
It was seven in the morning and I had already cursed my life four times in my head.The first, when I realized Sushi had more personal needs than an actual human child.The second, when I opened the closet and found Angela sleeping curled around Sienna’s slime suitcase like a personal bodyguard. The third, when I discovered Sienna’s mermaid costume wasn’t in any of the suitcases… because she had hidden it inside the oven. And the fourth? When I picked up Sushi’s litter box and felt like I was lifting the weight of my past sins.“I told them we couldn’t bring everything,” I muttered, holding my breath against the scent of prematurely packed cat sand. “But of course, everything had to come. Because God forbid this billion-dollar cat suffers the slightest discomfort.”I dragged the box out of the room, past a narrow hallway now jammed with suitcases, bags, and a unicorn plush that looked like it had just survived a shipwreck.The kitchen was already noisy. Angela sat at the table eatin
I walked back into the kitchen, my heartbeat still a mess after Nicholas said his chest felt... strange. I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from screaming, That’s your kid you tried to throw away, you idiot!The skillet was still warm. Pancakes stacked neatly on a plate, eggs glistening under a touch of butter. I started plating everything onto a big serving dish. My hands moved on autopilot, adding slices of avocado, a bit of shredded cheese, a sprinkle of sea salt.Then I opened the upper cabinet and grabbed the one extra thing I only ever made when my mood was stable enough to handle it: cheesy arepas with Tabasco and honey. An absurd combo.But so was I. A walking contradiction that somehow stayed standing after life tried to blow me to pieces.Behind me, I heard a chair scrape. I didn’t have to look. That I-own-the-world aura was too familiar. Nicholas sat down at the dining table like he owned the house. Or at least, like he owned me and my kid on some absurd short-term cont
It was eight twenty. I woke up to the sound of a bird outside my window screaming like it was being evacuated from a fire.Or maybe it was just my internal alarm, traumatized from standing too long in seven-inch heels last night and being unofficially married by capitalism and a tall man named Nicholas De Castello.I pushed myself out of bed. My muscles felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I cracked the bedroom door open and peeked at the room next door.There she was. The Chubby Mermaid.Sienna was still asleep, mouth slightly open, cheek smooshed into the pillow in a completely unglamorous sprawl. I’d taken her pacifier out last night after what could only be described as a bomb-defusing operation. Her mermaid costume was halfway off because she flat-out refused to take it off completely.“If I sleep without my tail, I’ll dream I’m human!” she’d cried.Yes, baby. That’s the point.I closed the door gently and padded down to the kitchen.Silence. The lights were still dim, morning air
Nicholas raised an eyebrow.His face didn’t move, almost like it had turned to stone. For a second, he looked like one of those marble statues in a European museum, completely baffled by the small, frizzy-haired creature accusing him of being a Turkish soap opera actor.I grimaced. Ugh.“She’s... dramatic,” I said, shrugging. “Sorry about that.”He didn’t answer. He just stared at me for a moment with this blank expression full of unspoken questions, then gave a slow nod and turned to walk to his car without saying a word.Good.I let out a long breath and stepped back into the house before Sienna could scream “I don’t like him,” again with that tiny voice beating me to it.Sienna was standing in the living room, her chubby arms crossed over her chest. Her mermaid costume was still dragging behind her on the floor, and her pacifier dangled lazily from a ribbon, glittering above her adorably bloated belly. Next to her, Sushi, our chubby cat, was lying on his back, legs sprawled open.
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