Pregnant For My Ex-Fiancé’s Father

Liv

“Fuck! I'm cumming Aaron.."

My steps slowed and I could hear my heartbeat ringing in my ears.

Wasn't that Vivi’s voice?

All I wanted to get from our suite was a breather from the fake smiles and loud music of the hall.

I never expected to be greeted by such a heart wrenching sight.

You might be wondering what the hell is going right?

Well, it's supposed to be my fucking bachelorette party. As well as his bachelor party.

We are SUPPOSED to be married by morning.

Aaron had been adamant—we weren’t going to do separate parties like everyone else. He didn’t want a bachelor party without me.

I also didn't want a bachelorette party where I would have to plaster on an unwilling smile, wave and say, “Thanks for coming," to strangers.

So here we were, throwing a joint party, dancing among his friends and family, in the glamorous ballroom of his father’s hotel.

I continued down towards the suite and stopped in front of the door.

My heart raced as I got closer, and then I heard Vivi’s voice, soft and breathless, whispering Aaron’s name like it was the only word she knew. My chest tightened, and I peeked through the door.

There they were, Aaron kept thrusting hard into her wetness and she was visibly enjoying herself, judging from the slicky sounds that erupted from the effect of Aaron's dick in her.

His face was contorted into one of pleasure as he reached for her full breasts and squeezed them as he kept thrusting and fuck!

He wasn't using a condom!

“Damn it Aaron! Come on baby hit that pussy like you own it." Vivi moaned.

A wave of nausea hit me so fast, I had to steady myself against the wall. This couldn’t be happening.

I stood there, frozen, my mind swirling back to all the moments I had doubted myself.

All the times Vivi had made little comments about how “lucky” I was to have Aaron. How often she had remarked on his wealth, his power.

I’d always brushed it off as her being her—an elite socialite, always trying to make herself feel better. But now, the truth stood before me, cruel and undeniable.

I don’t know how long I stood there, watching the man I was about to marry fucking the hell out of my step sister right in the middle of our pre-wedding party.

The more I saw him thrusting himself into her with low grunts and hearing her squirm and moan in pleasure beneath him, the more dizzy I felt.

Eventually, my legs felt like they would give out beneath me, and I turned away, numbly heading back to the party. The ballroom spun around me as I stepped inside, the laughter and chatter of the guests like distant echoes.

All around me, people were laughing, smiling, raising their glasses in toast to my “good fortune.”

“You’re so lucky, Liv,” one of Aaron’s aunts said, a glass of champagne in hand as she sauntered over. “Aaron is such a catch! Handsome, successful... you’re marrying into a dream.”

I forced a smile, my lips feeling stiff. “Yeah... lucky me.”

“Look at you,” another woman cooed, her eyes scanning my dress from head to toe. “You look stunning. That dress must have cost a fortune! Oh, but of course, Aaron’s family has impeccable taste.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, feeling the bile rise in my throat.

“You’re going to be the envy of everyone,” she continued, her voice sickly sweet. “I mean, marrying into that family? Some of us could only dream.”

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms as I nodded politely, each word sinking deeper into my skin like poison.

Envy of everyone? Is that all they thought this was? A business transaction? Did any of them see me—the real me—or did they only see the girl who didn’t come from money, marrying into it?

Bunches of bullshit.

I turned away, my pulse quickening as the walls of the ballroom seemed to close in around me. The chandeliers sparkled overhead, their light too bright, the music too loud. My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of their words pressing down on me, suffocating me.

“Are you alright, Liv?” Aaron’s mother’s sister Cecil appeared beside me, her hand resting on my arm. Her eyes were kind but calculating, the perfect image of high society grace. “You seem a bit... off.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing another tight smile.

“Well, you should be. Tonight’s your night, after all. This is the beginning of your new life.” Her smile was sharp, her eyes scanning the room as if she was already picturing me in the role she had chosen for me—the perfect wife for her perfect son.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yeah... I guess it is.”

Aaron’s second aunt’s Magaret smile widened. “Don’t worry, darling. After tonight, you won’t have to worry about anything. We’ve got everything planned out for you. You’ll fit right in.”

Lies! All fucking lies!

Her words twisted like a knife in my gut. Fit right in?

My mind decided to flash me a picture of the miserable life I would have, getting married to a cheating ass like Aaron.

I blinked back the tears threatening to spill over, my chest tightening with each passing second. They didn’t see me. None of them did.

They only saw what they wanted to see—the poor girl marrying into wealth, the outsider they were bringing into the fold.

“Liv, are you sure you’re okay?” A voice interrupted my spiraling thoughts. It was Megan, the maid of honor, some chosen relative of Aarons’.

Her brow furrowed with concern as she approached. “You’ve been standing here for a while. Maybe you need some air?”

“I’m fine, Megan,” I said, my voice tight. “Just... needed a moment.”

“Well, I don’t blame you,” she said, her gaze softening. “This whole thing is overwhelming, isn’t it? But it’s almost over. Soon, you’ll be Mrs. Aaron Montclair, and everything will fall into place.”

I laughed, a hollow sound escaping my lips. “Yeah. Everything’s just falling right into place.”

Megan gave me a strange look but didn’t press further.

I didn’t belong here. I never did.

I grabbed a bottle from the bar, ignoring the waiter’s concerned glance. I needed something strong, something to numb the jagged edges of my heart. I gulped it down, each burning swallow a small victory over the pain clawing at my chest.

I stumbled out of the ballroom, my heels clacking too loudly in the quiet hallway. I needed a place to cry, to fall apart, but I didn’t even know where to go.

My private suite… the executive one Aaron had booked for me… I couldn’t remember the number. I couldn’t remember anything. My vision swam as I wandered aimlessly, and then it hit me—the rooftop.

The music was just a hum in the back of my mind as I staggered toward the rooftop railing. The night air was crisp, cutting through the haze of alcohol, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache deep inside me. My chest felt like it was caving in, like every breath I took hurt more than the last.

“Fuck you Aaron!”

“To hell with you Vivi!”

I screamed and wailed and drank from the whiskey bottle in my hands. When I took the bottle close to my lips again, it was empty.

“Fuck that too.” I said, my words slurred as the bottle fell from my hands.

“Fuck the world too!” I screamed finally into the sky, releasing all the pain, betrayal, and heartbreak that threatened to crush me. My legs wobbled beneath me, unsteady from the weight of it all—and from the alcohol. I wanted to keep screaming, but I was too weak, too broken.

I let go of the railing, stumbling backward. The ground felt like it was spinning, pulling me down with it. My vision blurred, and I could feel my body giving out. My feet slipped out from under me, and I knew I was falling, but I didn’t care. Maybe the ground would hurt less than this.

But then, just as I started to tip over, a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back from the edge.

I gasped, startled, and looked up, my vision still swimming. Even through the fog of alcohol and tears, I could see him clearly. He was... breathtaking.

Dark eyes framed by thick lashes, a jawline so sharp it could cut through the night, and lips that were set in a determined line.

He had an air of quiet strength about him, like he could handle anything—even me, broken as I was.

Then I did the most odd thing ever. I pressed my lips into his.