PREGNANT WITH THE COLD CEO'S BABY

I lost everything when I was ten. My parents, my home, my sense of safety, and whatever was left of my childhood.

But then again... life was never fair. 

* * *

The atmosphere in the restroom was tense and it felt like the air in my chest was punched out as I stared at the pink lines in the pregnancy test strip in my hands.

"How did... how did this happen?"

I asked myself, but no answer came. My legs gave way, and I sank onto the closed toilet seat, the pregnancy test still clutched in my fingers. 

I'd convinced myself before that it was just stress. The late shifts at the grocery store, the constant worry about tuition fees.. all of it could explain a missed period.

But deep down, I knew. 

The nausea that hit me every morning, the exhaustion that sleep couldn't cure, and the way my body felt different. It was something I did not want to just speak of..

"Think, Kaira. Think." I tried to recall how it happened but couldn't get anything.

Everything blurred together. 

After trying harder, searching deeply, fragments of that night came at the edges of my memory.

A deep voice, the scent of expensive cologne, soothe hands that knew exactly how to touch me... 

The pregnancy test slipped from my numb fingers, clattering against the bathroom tiles. The sound seemed to echo through the thin walls, and I held my breath, waiting to see if anyone had heard.

The last thing I needed was questions I couldn't answer.

* * *

A week later, the morning sickness hit hard. I was scrubbing the kitchen floor when my stomach lurched violently. The smell of the cleaning solution, which had never bothered me before, suddenly became overwhelming.

"Kaira? What's wrong with you?"

Tonia's voice cut through my misery. My cousin stood in the kitchen doorway, her dark eyes were sharp with curiosity. She'd been watching me all week, waiting for something like this...

I tried to speak, to deflect with some excuse about bad food and a stomach ache, but another wave hit me harder. I clamped my hand over my mouth and rushed toward the restroom, my bare feet slipping on the wet floor.

Behind me, I heard Tonia's delighted gasp.

The restroom door slammed shut just as my stomach emptied itself into the toilet bowl. Each throw felt like my body was betraying me, confirming what I'd been desperately trying to deny.

When I finally emerged, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, Tonia was waiting. Her lips curved in a knowing smirk that made my blood run cold.

"You're pregnant, aren't you?" She said, curtly.

"Oh my God, Kaira, you're really pregnant!" She chortled.

"I'm not.." I started, but the lie died on my lips as another wave of nausea threatened.

"When was your last period?" Tonia's voice grew louder, more excited. 

"Come on, tell me! How long have you been hiding this?"

"Tonia, please, I.."

"MOM!" Tonia's voice rang through the house. 

"MOM. COME QUICKLY!"

My heart sank as footsteps emerged from different parts of the house. Tony emerged from his study, book still in hand. Aunt Martha rushed from the bedroom, her hair still in curlers. 

"What the hell is all this noise about?" Aunt Martha demanded, her sharp eyes taking in my pale face and Tonia's gleeful expression.

"Kaira's pregnant!" Tonia announced. 

"She's been throwing up, and I bet she's missed her period too. Right, Kaira?"

The silence that followed was deafening.

I watched my aunt's face transform from confusion to rage in the span of seconds.

Tony's book crumpled in his grip.

"Is this true?" Aunt Martha's voice was quiet.

I opened my mouth, but no words came. The weight of their stares crushed down on me.

"Answer me!" 

The slap came so fast I didn't see it coming. Pain exploded across my cheek, and the force sent me stumbling backward. My hip hit the edge of the kitchen counter, and I crumpled to the floor, my hand pressed to my burning face.

"How dare you!" Aunt Martha loomed over me, her face filled with fury. 

"How dare you bring this shame into our house! After everything we've done for you, this is how you repay us?"

"I'm sorry, I..." I started, but she cut me off.

The tears I had been holding back threatened to fall.

"Get up. We're going to go confirm this. Now!"

* * *

Damien James stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, thirty stories above the city. The morning sun cast long shadows across the floor. His reflection stared back at him—cold, distant, untouchable.

"You asked for me, sir."

"Get the car ready." He said, without turning around.

"Yes, sir." His secretary replied.

The soft click of expensive shoes retreated across the marble floor, leaving Damien alone. He pressed his palm against the cool glass, watching the tiny figures move like ants on the streets below.

Then a flash of memory hit him so suddenly that it made him inhale sharply. A woman's laugh, soft and genuine. Warm brown eyes looked up at him. The taste of her lips...

"Who is she?" He said in a whisper.

The memory vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving him with nothing but questions.

But as he walked toward the elevator, her laugh echoed in his mind once more.

* * *

The hospital's fluorescent lights were harsh. I sat on the examination table, my legs dangling like a child's, while Dr. Martinez reviewed my test results.

"Congratulations," she said with warmth.

"You're approximately four weeks pregnant. Everything looks normal so far." She added.

Tonia, sitting beside me, glared at me, let out a smirk, and then cursed under her breath. 

"She's doomed," Tonia said.

"Four weeks ago, as a bartender, I..I.." I tried to think.

The rest was still a blur.

Outside in the hospital corridor, Aunt Martha's voice was heard despite the closed door. She was already on the phone with someone, and her tone was sharp with anger.

Soon, we went to her after she was done making her calls. 

"Who is responsible for this?" The words came out curtly.

I stared at the floor, my hands trembling.

"I... I... I don't know who..." I stuttered.

"What?" Tonia's voice was shrill with disbelief. 

"You do not know?" Tonia asked.

The shame burned hotter than the slap had. 

"I do not remember..."

"You're pregnant," Aunt Martha said, in a cold voice.

"And you do not even remember who is responsible?"