Chapter 4

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 power he holds over my life. I curse him viciously under my breath as I rush into the bathroom like a madwoman, shedding clothes along the way.

Cold water does little to wake me fully. I throw on a simple white blouse, a pencil skirt, and my usual flats. I’m almost at the door when a cool draft hits my bare pussy. I freeze. No panties. In my rush, I completely forgot. Heat floods my cheeks as I dash back to my drawer, rummage faster, and slip on the first pair I find. It’s worn out, weak, and has lost its elasticity, but I don’t have the luxury of time to look for another. So I tie one side into a knot, grab my bag, and bolt out, heart pounding.

The cab ride to the office feels torturously slow. My mind races with dread. Facing Caspian after everything feels impossible. Especially now, with his child growing inside me, a secret that could destroy what little stability I have left.

I burst into the department, breathless. Cali is waiting near my desk, holding two cups of coffee. She looks relieved when she sees me.

“You’re lucky you made it before he did,” she says, handing me one cup with a sympathetic smile. “Here, you look like you need this more than I do.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, taking a careful sip. The warmth spreads through me, but it does nothing to calm the storm inside.

As she walks away, she glances back. “You still look like a mess, Liv. At least spritz on some fragrance. You smell… off.”

I lift the collar of my blouse to my nose and sniff, confused. I don’t smell anything unusual. Pregnancy hormones are playing cruel tricks again. I shake my head and slide into my seat, powering on my laptop. I have reports to finish, ones I should have completed days ago. My fingers fly across the keyboard, trying to focus.

An hour later, the elevator dings. I look up just as Caspian strides in, hands casually in his pockets, surrounded by several business partners. His long black hair is tied back neatly, his tailored suit hugging his powerful frame perfectly. He looks devastatingly handsome. Commanding like a man who owns every room he enters.

Unwanted memories smash over me. The way his body felt pressed against mine that night. How he dominated me so completely, his hips moving in that slow, deep rhythm that made me lose my mind. The stretch of his massive cock, the way he guided me, the raw pleasure that made me forget every hatred I carried for him.

Disgust and embarrassment flood me. What is wrong with me? What the hell is…?

I slap my own cheek hard, harder than I intended. The sharp sound escapes as a startled scream.

Every head turns. Caspian’s dark eyes lock onto me instantly, sharp and assessing. The business partners stare too.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammer, face burning with humiliation. “Just… a bug.”

Caspian’s gaze lingers a second longer before he turns away, leading the men into his office for a meeting.

I slump in my chair, pressing a hand to my racing heart. “Get it together, Olivia,” I whisper. Why can’t I forget that night? Sex with other men had always been forgettable the next day. But with him… it haunts me. Is God punishing me? For one moment of weakness, I’m now carrying the child of the man I despise most in this world. The mess keeps rubbing on my skin.

I force my eyes back to the laptop screen. If I don’t finish these reports before his meeting ends, he’ll have my head. I bury myself in work, typing furiously.

The door to his office finally opens. Caspian steps out with the men. They exchange handshakes, and the partners leave. Caspian turns toward me, his expression unreadable.

“Miss Bash. My office. Now.”

My heart nearly leaps out of my chest. That familiar unease coils tight in my stomach, the same feeling I always get around him. I stand quickly, trying to smooth my messy curls and straighten my blouse. I’m not in the mood for his insults today.

I step inside. He’s leaning against the front of his desk, laptop open, not even bothering to look at me.

“The reports for the days I was away,” he demands.

I hand him my iPad with trembling fingers. He scans through them silently, scrolling.

“Send them to my email.”

He walk to his chair and sit, then finally look at me properly. I feel like the ground should open up and swallow me whole. His dark eyes examine me intently as he tilts his head slightly to the side. He toys with the engagement ring on his finger as he begins giving me details from the last meeting.

I stare at that ring, and the memory hits like a punch, him calling me “Lumi” that night, thinking I was his fiancée while buried deep inside me. Humiliation burns.

“Miss Bash, you are not taking down the minutes,” he snaps.

I jolt, coughing awkwardly and looking around in confusion. He hands my iPad back, clearly irritated. “I’m not going to repeat myself. Have all the necessary documents ready before noon.”

“Yes, sir,” I swallow hard. Bastard.

I turn to leave, relief flooding me, when his voice stops me again.

“Miss Bash.”

I freeze, back stiffening. Here it comes. The criticism of my outfit, my hair, my entire existence. I turn around, wearing a fake smile.

He looks me up and down slowly from his desk. I brace myself, cursing him internally.

“When was the last time you visited a doctor?” he asks instead.

My heart skips a hundred beats, never expecting that. “I… um—”

He cuts me off. “You look sick. Take the day off.”

I blink, stunned. Before I can even say thank you, the worst thing happens—the knot of my pants loosens, and worn-out fabric drops down to my knees. I try to catch it, but miss as the pants decline to my ankles. I freeze; the ground beneath me sways, and my eyes widen.

Slowly, my head lifts instinctively towards Caspian. His gaze locks straight onto mine, intense and unyielding as deep irritation and exhaustion appear across his face. With his jaw clenched and brow raised in questioning, he asks, “Do you have a boyfriend?”