Pregnant For My Boss

The Breaking Point

The fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor buzzed overhead, casting a cold glow on the cracked tiles beneath Amelia Hart’s worn-out sneakers. She’d been standing there for over an hour, arms tightly wrapped around her chest as though shielding herself from a storm that had long since swept through her life.

“Miss Hart?” a nurse called gently, pushing open the door to the waiting room. Amelia’s eyes snapped up, bloodshot from exhaustion. “Your brother’s test results just came in. The doctor would like to speak with you.”

Her throat tightened. She nodded, following the nurse like a ghost, her limbs moving on instinct rather than purpose. The doctor stood near the hospital bed where her younger brother, Tyler, lay asleep, IVs plugged into his fragile arms. He looked even smaller beneath the white sheets, his once vibrant face pale and hollow.

The doctor cleared his throat. “The tumor is growing faster than we anticipated. Surgery is critical now, not later. We can’t wait another month.”

Her heart sank.

“But I—I can’t afford it,” she whispered, voice cracking. “You said the operation would cost—”

“Seventy-five thousand,” he finished, his voice not unkind. “And unfortunately, our charity fund has already been allocated for the quarter.”

Seventy-five thousand dollars. She couldn’t even afford bus fare most days. Amelia’s job at the coffee shop barely covered groceries, and ever since her father’s company was sued into bankruptcy, her family had been drowning in debts they hadn’t even seen coming. Her mother was gone. Her brother was dying. And her father was a shell of the man she once knew, hiding behind empty bottles and regret.

The doctor gave her a sympathetic look before turning to leave.

“Please…” she croaked, but he was already gone.

She sat on the edge of the hospital bed, brushing Tyler’s curls away from his forehead as tears silently slid down her cheeks. His breath was shallow. She didn’t know how long she sat there. Minutes. Hours. Time had lost meaning.

A notification buzzed from her phone, breaking the silence.

NEW EMAIL: Final Termination Notice – Eviction Effective in 3 Days.

She clenched the phone until her knuckles turned white.

It was always something. Rent. Bills. Medicine. She couldn’t breathe.

By the time dawn broke, casting orange light across the city skyline, Amelia had made a decision. One that terrified her.

She had one option left. A desperate, reckless, humiliating option.

Lucas Stone.

The man who had fired her a month ago without blinking. The man who made sure everyone in his office feared him. The billionaire CEO of Stone Enterprises—her ex-boss. Her cold, calculating ex-boss.

The same man whose words still haunted her.

“You’re not worth the ink on your résumé, Miss Hart. Leave your badge on the desk.”

But she didn’t care anymore. She had nothing left to lose.

⸻

Stone Enterprises stood like a silver tower piercing the clouds—tall, gleaming, and unreachable. Amelia’s reflection in the glass door looked out of place: wrinkled blouse, faded jeans, and eyes puffy from tears.

The receptionist blinked when she saw her.

“Miss Hart? I—uh—you don’t work here anymore.”

“I need to see Mr. Stone,” Amelia said, forcing calm into her voice. “It’s urgent.”

“I’m afraid he’s in meetings all morning. Besides, you know how he is—”

“Tell him it’s about the proposal,” Amelia said quickly.

The receptionist frowned. “What proposal?”

“The one I never got the chance to make before he fired me,” she lied.

A beat of silence. The receptionist hesitated… then made the call.

Ten minutes later, Amelia stood in front of the door she once dreaded. Her stomach twisted.

The door opened.

And there he was.

Lucas Stone.

Tailored in an all-black suit, his broad frame leaned against the desk as he scrolled through his phone. His sharp jaw was clean-shaven, and his dark hair was slicked back like usual. His eyes—gray, cold, unforgiving—lifted slowly.

“You’ve got five minutes,” he said, not moving.

Amelia stepped inside.

Her hands trembled, but she spoke clearly. “I need money.”

His brow twitched slightly. “And?”

“And I’m offering something in return.”

A short, mirthless laugh escaped him. “You think I make deals with ex-employees who came begging?”

“It’s not begging.” Her chin lifted. “It’s business.”

“You have nothing I want.”

She inhaled sharply. “What if I married you?”

That got his attention.

He stood straighter, his full height looming. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” she replied, heart pounding. “A contract marriage. In exchange for enough money to pay my brother’s hospital bills and cover my father’s debts. You’re a billionaire. Seventy-five thousand is nothing to you.”

Lucas’s gaze darkened. “Why would I ever marry you?”

“You need a wife,” she said, swallowing her shame. “You’ve told everyone you’re engaged just to get those board investors from Dubai. They value family men. But the deal closes in six months. You need someone now. I’ll be your wife—for six months. No strings. No complications. Then we disappear from each other’s lives.”

Lucas walked around his desk slowly, eyes locked on hers. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t just pay you to go away?”

“Because if you do, I walk out this door and tell the press your ‘engagement’ is a sham,” she said, her voice steady. “And your billion-dollar deal crumbles.”

A long pause. Then—

He smirked.

“You’re not as spineless as I thought.”

He walked to the cabinet, pulled out a drawer, and retrieved a blue document.

“This is a standard contract. No intimacy. No emotional entanglement. You will play the doting wife in public. You will not speak unless I ask you to. You will not interfere with my personal life. This is a transaction. Nothing more.”

He tossed the document onto the table.

“Sign it,” he said coldly. “And welcome to hell, Mrs. Stone.”

Amelia’s hand shook as she picked up the pen.

You’re doing this for Tyler. Just for Tyler.

She signed.

And her fate was sealed.