My Stepbrother Got Me Pregnant

After a long, draining day, I finally made it to the dinner table. Mom and Uncle Carter were already seated, their faces lighting up as I entered.

It was Uncle Carter’s birthday today. They had been waiting for me and for their "son" to join them.

A decadent chocolate cake sat in the center of the dining table. Its rich aroma wafting through the room. My favorite. Everything was picture-perfect. But something felt…off.

“Christina,” Mom said gently, her eyes narrowing with concern. “You went straight to your room after school. Are you feeling alright?”

She reached over and touched my forehead. I forced a smile and nodded.

“Yeah… I’m fine.”

But I wasn’t. And I knew this moment—this very dinner—was the time to say it.

I inhaled deeply. “Mom, I have something to tell you both.”

They looked at me, their expressions instantly alert.

“I’ve been accepted into a management college in Auckland,” I said slowly. “It’s prestigious—one of the top colleges. And I want to go.”

The room fell silent. You could hear the tick of the old wall clock echoing like a drumbeat.

Mom blinked in confusion. “Wait, what?”

She looked at Carter. “Isn’t her current college supposed to be the best in the country?”

Uncle Carter frowned, clearly blindsided.

“It is,” I replied calmly. “But this… this is my dream college. I’ve always wanted to study in Auckland.”

Uncle Carter, ever the doting stepfather, leaned forward. “But, sweetheart, you never even mentioned applying.”

“I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure. But I’ve been planning this for months.”

There was a long pause before Mom whispered, “And your boyfriend? What about him?”

My throat tightened. I couldn’t answer.

“You broke up with him, didn’t you?” she pressed.

I remained silent.

“That bastard,” Carter growled. “I knew something was off about him. Always hiding. Never met us, never showing up to any family dinner.. He was never serious about you. Good that you get rid of that asshole.” 

His voice trembled with anger.

“I just want to focus on my future now,” I said quietly.

“If it’s what you really want,” Carter said after a beat, “we’ll start looking into your visa process.”

I hesitated. “I’ve already applied.”

Their eyes widened. Mom looked stunned.

“You’ve been planning this behind our backs?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly.

I looked down. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I needed to be sure before telling anyone.”

Mom reached out and rubbed my back. “It’s okay, Chris. I have a good friend in Auckland—she’ll help you settle in.”

She paused, then added carefully, “And you will be able to move on from that boyfriend of yours…”

“Boyfriend? Whose boyfriend?”

A new voice cut through the tension like a blade.

We all turned.

Standing in the doorway was Hunter.

Eyes dark. Unreadable. Dangerous.

Crisp black shirt, tailored slacks, his hair perfectly tousled like he’d just stepped out of a Ralph Lauren campaign. His presence filled the room with quiet dominance—His presence didn’t enter the room, it took over.

Mom flinched. Carter looked uncomfortable.

“Christina’s…” Mom started.

I jumped up, cutting her off instantly. “Brother! You’re so late! We were about to cut the cake without you. The candles are melting!”

Hunter arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Yeah, let’s cut the cake,” Carter added quickly, glancing between us.

We all gathered around. The cake was cut. Smiles were exchanged. Laughter echoed. But beneath the surface, everything had changed.

After dinner, everyone retreated to their rooms. I waited a few minutes, then quietly walked to Mom’s.

She opened the door, surprised. “Chris, you’re still up?”

“Yeah. I… I wanted to give you something.”

I handed her a small velvet box. She opened it and gasped—a beautiful set of couple’s rings.

“Chris…” she whispered, eyes glistening. “Thank you.”

She hugged me tightly.

“Mom,” I said softly, “please don’t tell Hunter about Auckland. He can’t know. Not yet.”

Her eyes widened. “Why? If your brother finds out later, he’ll be furious.”

“I’ve made up my mind,” I said firmly.

Mom hesitated. “You know how possessive he is about you. Always has been. And if he finds out you broke up, I’m afraid of what he might do. He’s not exactly… calm.”

I looked at her with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

“Exactly.”

She exhaled. “I used to feel guilty for not giving you a sibling. But Hunter… he filled that gap, didn’t he?”

I nodded. “Yeah. He did.”

“Alright, Chris. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight mom.” 

I climbed the stairs and pushed open my bedroom door.

My heart stopped.

There he was.

Hunter. 

His arms behind his head. Legs crossed. Calm. Like he’d been there for hours.  Like he belonged there.

I shut the door behind me.

“You’re here?” I asked, breathlessly.

He smirked. “Where else would I be?”

I sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out and grabbed my waist, hard. Pulled me into him.

I buried my face into his shoulder. His rich, expensive scent wrapped around me like a chain.

Then I whispered, “Hunter… please.” I tried to pull away.

His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong? Is it the guy your mom mentioned? Is he better looking than me?” His voice turned cold, sharp. “Are you pushing me away… for him?”

“Hunter—”

“Who was I to you, then?” he snapped. “Just some hookup? A convenient fuck buddy all these years?”

I inhaled deeply, unable to answer.

He brushed my hair aside. His lips grazed the side of my neck.

“I’ve told you before,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. “You can’t have a boyfriend, Chris. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And you’ll never belong to anyone else.”

Goosebumps danced across my skin.

Because the truth was—Hunter was my boyfriend.

He was my addiction.

My downfall.

My boyfriend.

No one knew.

And no one could ever know.