The Second Line

I 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. He was arguing with his father again. It is almost an open secret within the enterprise, his father divorced his mother because of a secretary.

And now, the secretary’s son has been brought onto the board by his father. With the succession of the family’s shares at stake, several of the board’s elder members have already begun to favour the younger, more ambitious son.

I know this isn’t the right time for a conversation. 

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.