Chapter 5

The Walls Begin to Crack

The moment Amelia dropped the truth like a grenade, Lucas did what he did best—hide.

He didn’t run. He didn’t yell. He didn’t even flinch.

He simply walked past her like she hadn’t just flipped both their worlds upside down with three words:

“I’m pregnant, Lucas.”

She stood there long after he disappeared into his study, the positive test still clutched in her shaking hand, her chest heavy with a mixture of dread and disbelief.

He didn’t demand a DNA test.

He didn’t accuse her of tricking him.

He didn’t do anything.

And that, somehow, was worse.

⸻

Amelia barely slept that night.

Her thoughts spun into chaos. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured the way he looked—calm, unreadable, untouchable.

How could he be so cold?

How could she have been so stupid?

⸻

Across the penthouse, Lucas stood in front of his liquor cabinet with a glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched. The amber liquid caught the moonlight like liquid fire, but he didn’t drink it.

He stared at it.

At nothing.

At everything.

A baby.

His baby.

The word echoed in his head like a warning. Or a prayer. He didn’t know which.

He’d spent years controlling everything—his business, his reputation, his life. He’d drafted every clause in his marriage contract to avoid this exact situation.

No entanglements. No expectations. No future.

And yet, there she was.

Amelia.

Carrying something so fragile, so innocent—so his.

⸻

The next morning, Amelia expected him to be gone. That was what Lucas Ash did, wasn’t it? Disappear. Retreat. Ice over.

But when she stepped into the kitchen, he was there.

Coffee. Scrambled eggs. Fresh fruit. All laid out on the counter like some surreal dream.

Her footsteps slowed.

“You made breakfast?” she asked cautiously.

Lucas didn’t look at her. “I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were.”

Amelia crossed her arms. “Are we going to talk about this, or pretend the biggest thing that’s ever happened to either of us didn’t just explode into our lives last night?”

Lucas finally looked at her—and for the first time, she saw something.

Not cold.

Not detached.

But terrified.

“I need time,” he said quietly.

She stared at him. “Time for what?”

“To process.”

“To run, you mean.”

His expression darkened. “I’m not running, Amelia. If I wanted to run, I would’ve walked out last night.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”

Lucas slammed the coffee cup down hard enough to make it crack. “Because everything about you… undoes me. You walk into a room, and suddenly my control disappears. You say you’re pregnant, and I can’t breathe. What do you want me to do? Smile? Dance?”

“No,” she said, her voice trembling. “I want you to feel. I want to know this means something to you.”

Silence.

Painful, suffocating silence.

And then, so softly she almost missed it, he said:

“It means everything.”

Amelia’s eyes widened. “What?”

Lucas exhaled a shaky breath and looked away, ashamed of his own vulnerability. “I never planned for this. Not with you. Not with anyone. But the idea that there’s a life growing inside you—a part of me—” He broke off, rubbing a hand across his face.

“I should be scared,” he continued. “I am scared. But beneath that…” He paused, struggling. “There’s a part of me that wants this. Desperately. And I hate myself for it.”

Amelia’s breath hitched. “Then don’t hate it. Don’t hate me.”

Lucas looked up slowly, his gaze locking with hers.

And for a heartbeat—they weren’t boss and maid. Billionaire and contract bride. They were just… two broken people, caught in the middle of something too big, too terrifying, and too beautiful to explain.

⸻

That night, Lucas didn’t touch her.

But he stayed.

He didn’t lock himself away in his office or leave the penthouse like usual.

He sat beside her in the quiet, watching some mindless late-night TV neither of them could follow.

His hand brushed hers once.

And didn’t move away.

⸻

The next morning, Amelia had a doctor’s appointment.

Lucas insisted on going with her.

When they entered the private clinic, the receptionist’s jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of Lucas Ash himself holding his wife’s coat.

The doctor, equally stunned, led them into the exam room.

Amelia lay on the table, nerves coiled tight. Lucas stood beside her, silent.

Then came the moment.

The sound.

A flickering, fast-paced beat.

The baby’s heartbeat.

Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at the screen.

Lucas said nothing.

Did nothing.

But when the doctor excused herself, Amelia noticed his hand—shaking.

And when she looked up, Lucas had tears in his eyes. The first she’d ever seen.

“Lucas…” she whispered.

He didn’t speak.

Just leaned down and pressed his lips to her temple. “I didn’t think I could feel this,” he said hoarsely. “But I do. God help me, I do.”

⸻

The days that followed were strange.

Lucas tried to carry on like normal—meetings, boardrooms, and business—but something had shifted. At night, he checked on her. Made her meals. Touched her more. Talked to her like she wasn’t just a contract he signed, but someone he cared about.

Still, there were shadows.

Secrets he hadn’t told her yet.

Walls he hadn’t taken down.

And she didn’t push. Not yet.

Because the look in his eyes when he heard that heartbeat?

That was real.

And for now… it was enough.

But soon, it wouldn’t be.

Because love was coming.

Whether either of them was ready or not.