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CHAPTER 61: HER VOICE
publish date:
2026-06-06 17:45:59
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PREGNANT BY THE CEO CHAPTER 62: ENTIRELY HIS OWN
Isla’s statement was dropped on Thursday. By Friday it had already reached farther than Victor’s whole press campaign ever did. My daughter had done in four hundred words what I’d been grinding away at for months.I watched it unfold from my desk, not obsessively, I still had work, but Sandra’s updates kept coming in steady waves. By Friday noon the picture was unmistakable. Isla’s words were spreading the way real things do: slower at first, then deeper, passed hand to hand between people who recognized truth when they saw it. They weren’t just reading; they were feeling it and sending it on to whoever else needed to hear it.A sixteen-year-old telling the plain, unvarnished story of her own life, no performance, no agenda. Just honesty. And people responded to that. They shared it because it trusted them to understand without being told how.Victor’s version of events was getting crowded out. Not in some explosive showdown. Just quietly, and steadily, the way something real sits ne
PREGNANT BY THE CEO CHAPTER 61: HER VOICE
My sixteen-year-old daughter had written her own statement, and she was right, it was time. I sat there, with my heart thudding unevenly, trying to figure out if I was protecting her or just terrified of letting go.I picked up the document with hands that felt heavier than they should. Isla sat across from me, completely still, the kind of stillness that came when she had already decided something and was patiently waiting for the rest of us to catch up. Marcus lingered in the doorway, like a silent shadow. No one spoke. I read the document. Then I read it again, slower this time.One page, twelve sentences. Her voice was precise, direct, stripped of every careful layer the rest of us wrapped around the truth. She hadn’t written a press statement. She had simply written what was true.She wrote about growing up without a father she never knew. No performance of tragedy, just fact, the way she treated most facts: with a clear-eyed honesty that didn’t need sentiment to hold its weigh
PREGNANT BY THE CEO CHAPTER 60: EMPTY
The story ran, my daughter came home early, and I had about four hours before this threatened to consume everything I had spent sixteen years building.I dealt with Isla first, not because the story could wait, it couldn’t, but because she was sitting at my kitchen table with her coat still buttoned tight, hands pressed flat like she needed the wood to anchor her. Sixteen years old, wearing that careful mask of composure so she wouldn’t add to the weight already crushing me. That came first. It always would.“Tell me what happened baby,” I said, keeping my voice steady even as my pulse hammered.She drew in a shaky breath. “People were talking at school. Not everyone though, but enough people were. Someone asked me straight if it was true that you had targeted him, the audacity.” Her eyes flicked to the table, then back up, uncertain.My stomach twisted. “What did you say?”“That I don’t comment on things I haven’t read.” She lifted her chin a fraction. “Then I called Marcus.”I look
PREGNANT BY THE CEO CHAPTER 59: BRACING
He came back the next week and the week after. And I stopped calling it dinner and started calling it what it was, something I wasn’t ready to name, but couldn’t keep pretending was casual.The weeks before the gala moved differently. They were warmer and deeper. I hadn’t planned for it, and for once I didn’t try to stop it. I had spent enough of my life white-knuckling control to recognize when something real needed space instead of management.We weren’t declared. We weren’t labeled either, but we were something, and the people around us had begun treating us that way. I had stopped correcting them. Tuesday dinners became a quiet fact. He remembered details I’d mentioned in passing Isla’s upcoming test, a throwaway comment about a song I liked and asked about them later. Each time he did, something in my chest tightened, then softened. I let it mean what it meant.Isla noticed. She didn’t say anything directly, which said everything. She had simply shifted, less watchful, more at e
PREGNANT BY THE CEO CHAPTER 58- EXACTLY ENOUGH
I let him into my kitchen and handed him a wooden spoon, and the terrifying part was how easy it felt. The easiest things had always scared me the most.The rice was well cooked. We moved around the kitchen like two people who had shared enough spaces that the steps no longer needed explaining, he found the plates without asking, I poured him water because I already knew, and we worked side by side without filling the air with unnecessary words.It felt dangerously natural. I noticed it, tucked the feeling away like a live wire, and told myself I’d deal with it later.Isla appeared in the doorway at seven-thirty, perfectly timed, as if she’d been waiting for the exact moment the evening felt safe enough to claim her place. She took us in, Sebastian at the stove, me by the counter, the two plates already on the table."There are three of us," she said.Sebastian glanced up, then at me, a quiet question in his eyes."There's enough," I said. I pulled out a third plate. Isla sat down, as
PREGNANT BY THE CEO CHAPTER 57- STUDYING LIES
Someone asked me whether Sebastian had known about his father’s plans all along. The question dropped like a stone into still water. For one sickening second, I hated the tiny hesitation it created in me before I shut it down.“No comment,” I said and closed the door.I leaned back against it in the hallway, heart thudding dully, and gave myself exactly sixty seconds. Not to dismiss the doubt. To face it head-on, raw, and unprotected.“Did Sebastian know?” I let the question breathe. I examined every angle without armor. The man who had quietly set up a trust fund for a child he wasn’t supposed to know existed could have also seen her as a liability to control? The man who wrote thirty-one letters into engineered silence had he known the silence was deliberate? The man who stood in a deposition building for three and a half hours without warning, simply because he wanted to be where I was, could he have been part of the machinery that made the deposition necessary in the first place?
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