LOGINOliva;
I pace back and forth across my tiny living room, the old wooden floor squeaking under my frantic steps. My fists clench tightly in my wild curls, tugging until my scalp stings. The pregnancy test still lies on the coffee table like a bomb that has already gone off. Positive. Caspian Fender’s child. What am I going to do? Tears burn my eyes as I stop in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection, pale face, messy hair, eyes wide with terror. I can’t tell him. I can’t walk into that man’s office and say, “Congratulations, you’re going to be a father.” The arrogant bastard would laugh in my face or worse accuse me of trying to trap him for his money. He hates my guts. Five years of constant ridicule have made that painfully clear. And the worst part? He doesn’t even remember that night. To him, I’m still just the disgraceful secretary with bad hair and worse shoes. I press a hand to my flat stomach, the nausea rising again. A baby. With no father who would want it. With a mother whose heart could fail at any moment. This is exactly the kind of broken life my mother gave me and my stepsister, raising us alone, struggling, leaving scars that never healed. I swore I would never repeat that cycle. My chest constricts painfully. I swallow my daily medication with shaking hands, the bitter taste mirroring the bitterness in my soul. I can’t do this alone because I can’t abort without knowing the risks. I shove my feet into my flats, throw a coat over my shoulders, and rush out the door. The cab ride to the hospital feels too long and too short at the same time. My mind spins with fear and confusion. Dr. Pepper’s office is quiet when I burst in. She looks up from her desk, her kind face immediately shifting to concern at the sight of me. “Olivia? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I sink into the chair across from her, my voice breaking as the words tumble out. “Dr. Pepper… I’m pregnant. It was one mistake. One terrible night. I can’t keep it. I need to… I need to terminate it. Please. Tell me what I have to do.” She leans forward, her expression softening with sympathy but also gravity. “Olivia, breathe. Tell me everything.” I explain it all; the betrayal by Nox, the enhancer, the drunken night with Caspian, the shock of the positive test. My voice cracks multiple times, tears slipping down my cheeks. Dr. Pepper listens carefully, then sighs deeply. “Olivia, this isn’t just about what you want to do.” She leans into her seat. “With your hypertrophic cardiomyopathy… abortion carries serious risks too. The stress on your heart, the anesthesia, the procedure itself; your heart is already working harder than it should.” Pepper gazes at me with pity. “The increased blood volume from pregnancy is dangerous, but terminating it suddenly could trigger arrhythmias or even heart failure.” My blood runs cold. “There has to be some way. Please. Isn’t there a safer option?” She shakes her head slowly, reaching across the desk to smoothing my hand. “The risk is very high, Olivia. We’re talking about a real possibility that you wouldn’t survive it. Your heart is too fragile right now. I’m so sorry.” The words make the whole of me shiver. I sit there frozen, the room spinning around me. Bigger mess. This is a much bigger mess than I ever imagined. I thank her numbly and leave the hospital in a daze, the city noise fading into a dull roar as devastation wraps around me like a heavy coat. I pull out my phone with trembling fingers and call Calista. “Hey… can you meet me? Please. I need you.” She is my trust fund; one person I can run to in difficult time. She agrees immediately, worry clear in her voice. We meet at our usual café just a few blocks from the company. When she arrives, she slides into the seat across from me, her eyes scanning my face. “Liv, when are you going to stop walking around looking like a mess?” she teases gently, reaching out to touch a strand of my curly hair. She leans in and sniffs dramatically. “Girl, your hair needs serious maintenance. When was the last time your estilista saw you?” I manage a weak smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “That’s the least of my worries right now, Cali.” She laughs softly, but it fades when she sees how defeated I look. “What’s going on? You look like someone died. Another heartbreak? Did that idiot Nox try something again?” I take a deep breath, my hands wrapped tightly around my untouched coffee. “I’m pregnant.” Calista flinches slightly, then breaks into a bright smile. “Wait, really? That’s actually good news, babe!” She adjust on her seat with so much excitement. “You’re thirty. You’d make an amazing mom. And with Nox—” “It’s not Nox’s,” I cut in. She lifts her cup to sip, still smiling. “Then whose—” “It’s Caspian’s.” Calista chokes. Hot coffee sprays across the table and splashes onto my face and blouse. Her eyes go wide with pure shock. “What?!” She fumbles for a handkerchief from her bag, handing it to me. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Here — wipe your face.” Then she stares right into my face. “Did you just say Caspian? As in Caspian Fender? Our Caspian Fender?” I nod, dabbing at my face and clothes, fresh tears mixing with the coffee stains. “Yes. It was a mistake. One stupid night. He was drunk at his engagement party.” My teeth clench at the memory, my fingers digging through my hair. I continue, “I was… I had taken the enhancer for my birthday with Nox, but then everything fell apart. I was hurting and horny and he pulled me in. It just… happened.” Calista stares at me, mouth open. “Hold on. Wait a minute. What did Caspian say when you told him?” “He doesn’t remember,” I whisper, my voice hollow. “He was too drunk. And thank God for that, because if he knew… he would destroy me. He already hates me, Cali.” “Girl…” Calista leans back, running a hand through her own hair. “This is real trouble. Caspian is such a dickhead. Getting him to accept responsibility for a child? Almost impossible. Especially with you.” “I don’t want him involved,” I say firmly, though my hands tremble on the table. “I can’t stand the humiliation. That night he thought I was Lumi. He was calling me by her name while he was inside me. I won’t beg that man for anything.” Calista nods slowly, her face full of sympathy and worry. “That’s an even bigger mess. So what are you going to do?” I nip at my fingers, a nervous habit I thought I’d outgrown. “I’ll keep the baby,” I say. “I’ll work as long as I can before my belly starts showing. Save every peso I can. Then I’ll resign and figure it out.” She reaches across the table and takes my hand into hers, stroking the back with her finger. “That’s actually a solid plan, Liv. You’re stronger than you think.” Then her expression shifts. A sly smile creeps onto her face, one eyebrow twitching upward. “But… tell me something. How was the sex? Was Caspian as arrogant in bed as he is in the office?”Oliva;Weeks in.My eyes fly open to the insistent, shrill ringing of my phone. Exhaustion weighs heavily on my body like lead. These days, waking up feels like dragging myself out of quicksand. The pregnancy has turned my mornings into a battlefield of nausea, fatigue, and a bone-deep tiredness that no amount of sleep seems to fix. With a groan, I fumble for the phone on my nightstand, my curls a wild mess across my pillow.It’s Calista.“Liv, where the hell are you?” she whispers urgently the moment I answer.“Still in bed,” I mumble, voice vibrating with sleep.“Girl, you need to move right now!” she says. “The dickhead is back. His plane just landed. He’ll be at the office any minute.”I scream internally and literally jolt upright, heart slamming against my ribs. “Shit!”For the past week, while Caspian was away, I had been sneaking in late, giving my battered body and heart some much-needed rest. Now he’s back, and the little peace I’d found shatters instantly. I hate how much p
Oliva;I pace back and forth across my tiny living room, the old wooden floor squeaking under my frantic steps. My fists clench tightly in my wild curls, tugging until my scalp stings. The pregnancy test still lies on the coffee table like a bomb that has already gone off. Positive. Caspian Fender’s child. What am I going to do? Tears burn my eyes as I stop in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection, pale face, messy hair, eyes wide with terror. I can’t tell him. I can’t walk into that man’s office and say, “Congratulations, you’re going to be a father.” The arrogant bastard would laugh in my face or worse accuse me of trying to trap him for his money. He hates my guts. Five years of constant ridicule have made that painfully clear. And the worst part? He doesn’t even remember that night. To him, I’m still just the disgraceful secretary with bad hair and worse shoes. I press a hand to my flat stomach, the nausea rising again. A baby. With no father who would want it. With
Oliva;My eyes snap open, and for one terrifying heartbeat, I don’t know where I am. Then I feel it; the heavy, possessive weight of a muscular arm draped across my waist, the heat of a large male body pressed against my back. My stomach drops like a stone. Caspian Fender. He is still asleep beside me, his long jet-black hair fanned across the pillow, dark lashes resting against sharp cheekbones. His breathing is deep and even. The sheets have slipped low, revealing the hard planes of his tattooed chest and abs. He looks almost peaceful. Beautiful, even. Disgust and horror slam into me so hard I struggle to breathe. What have I done? I slap a hand over my mouth to choke back the sob rising in my throat, then slap my own cheek hard. The sting buds across my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the embarrassment boiling through my veins. How could I? How could I have given my body to this bastard? The man I have hated with every fiber of my being for five years. The rude, pridef
Oliva;My fingers tremble as I zip up the deep emerald gown. The silky fabric glides over my skin, sticking to every curve, the slit along my thigh flashing with each movement. It’s sexy, elegant, perfect for the night I had planned. I light the last candle, and the warm glow of vanilla and jasmine fills my apartment. Thirty years old today. My wild curls falls over my shoulders, caramel highlights catching the light as I check my reflection. I’ve already taken my half of the enhancer, the capsule sitting warm in my stomach, promising the slow, delicious sensation that always turns our nights into pure ecstasy. Nox and I have done this ritual every birthday for three years. Take it early, let it build, and by midnight we lose ourselves completely in each other.I swallow my heart medication next, the bitter pill a daily reminder of my hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. My heart that can’t be trusted. The one that needs constant protection. Not tonight, though. Tonight is supposed to be per







