LOGINI’M PREGNANT 2
The moment I sit on my bed, my knees give out like something inside me has snapped. The mattress dips under my weight and the room suddenly feels too small, too quiet, too bright. My vision blurs as tears spill down my cheeks, hot and endless. My hands won’t stop shaking. “What will I do, Mia?” I whisper, my voice breaking into pieces. “What am I supposed to do?” Mia doesn’t hesitate. She drops beside me and pulls me into her arms, wrapping me up in the kind of hug that feels like a lifeline. Her shirt absorbs the first of my silent sobs. She strokes my back gently, her voice low and soothing. “Melissa … breathe. Just breathe, okay? I’m here. You’re not alone in this.” I grip her like the room is spinning and she’s the only steady thing left. The fear sits heavy on my chest, thick, suffocating, relentless. I feel it pressing down on every breath, squeezing until I’m almost gasping. She pulls back slightly and cups my cheeks, wiping my tears with her thumbs. “Listen to me,” she says softly. “Whatever happens… whatever decision you make… I’m with you. Every step, every moment. You hear me? I’m not leaving you.” Her words make me cry harder. Not loud tears, just those quiet, aching ones that drain the soul. Then she hesitates, her eyes flickering to the test kits lying on the bed like evidence from a crime scene. She swallows and looks at me carefully. “Mel… are you thinking of… getting rid of it?” My entire body goes still. I blink, stunned, the thought hitting me like cold water. I lift my eyes slowly to hers. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “No, Mia. I—I could never do that.” My voice trembles violently. “It’s my unborn child. I know it came from my carelessness but I can’t punish it for my mistake.” Mia nods instantly, squeezing my hand in understanding. “Okay. Good. I just needed to know how you feel. Don’t worry, I’m not judging. I just wanted you to say it out loud.” I breathe out shakily, and she sits beside me, pulling her legs up, facing me fully. “But,” she continues, biting her lip, “what if… what if it’s your ex boyfriend’s?” I let out a humorless breath. “Mia…” She tilts her head, waiting. I inhale deeply, gathering courage. “It’s not possible.” “Why not?” she asks softly. “Because I haven’t had sex with my ex boyfriend for over a month before he cheated on me,” I say, each word hurting like it’s ripping something open inside me. “We were already fighting… already falling apart. He found someone else.” My hands tremble, and I grip the bedsheet to steady them. “This—” I motion to my stomach, “isn’t his. I’m a hundred percent sure.” Mia’s expression softens with painful understanding. “So… it’s from the one-night stand.” My throat closes. Saying it out loud makes it real in a way the tests didn’t. I nod slowly. “Yes. It is.” The silence that follows stretches across the room like a thick fog. Mia looks at me, sympathy deep in her eyes, not pity, never pity, just the painful ache of watching someone she loves suffer. “So… the father is a stranger.” She says the words gently, carefully. A stranger. I shut my eyes tightly, the memory of that night stabbing me like a cold blade. “That karma caught up with me,” I whisper, laughing bitterly through my tears. “Of course it did. I judged my ex for cheating, for lying, for betraying me… and look at me now. Pregnant for a complete stranger because I was too drunk to think.” “Mel—” “No,” I say, shaking my head violently. “This is karma. This is consequences. This is life teaching me a lesson I was never ready for.” Mia moves closer and holds my hand tightly. “It’s not karma. Stop saying that.” But she doesn’t understand. “Mia, where do I even find the stranger?” I ask, my voice cracking. “I don’t know his name. I don’t know his job. I don’t know where he lives.” My words come out in broken breaths. “I don’t know anything.” Mia watches me, her brows knitting with worry. “And what do I even say to him?” I continue, my tears flowing freely. “Hi. Remember me? The drunk girl you slept with? Surprise, I’m pregnant?” I laugh again, but it’s hollow, painful, ugly. “He’ll think I’m crazy. Or lying. Or trying to trap him.” Mia shakes her head firmly. “You don’t know that.” “But I don’t know anything else either!” I snap, my breath hitching. “I don’t know who he is. I don’t know if he’s married, or engaged, or in a relationship. I don’t know if he’s kind or cruel. I don’t even remember what his voice sounds like!” My chest tightens painfully. “All I remember is being drunk and waking up to a total stranger.Stupid. Broken.” The room falls quiet except for my soft sobbing. Mia pulls me into another hug, rocking me gently like a child. I cling to her, my tears soaking her shoulder. “You’re not stupid,” she whispers. “You were hurting. People do reckless things when they’re hurting.” “But now there’s a baby involved,” I whisper back. “I know.” “And I’m broke. I’m jobless. I just graduated. I don’t even have my life together.” “I know.” “And I’m scared, Mia. I’m so scared.” She holds me tighter. “It’s okay to be scared,” she says softly. “You’re human.” I bury my face in her shoulder, my voice muffled. “What if I can’t be a good mother? What if I fail this child before it’s even born?” “You won’t,” she says firmly. “You’re already worrying about them. That’s love, Mel.” A shaky breath leaves me. My hands instinctively rest over my stomach. My stomach. The place where a life, small, fragile, innocent, is growing. The thought crushes me and comforts me all at once. Mia reaches over and gently places her hand on top of mine. “You’re going to figure this out,” she says softly. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But you will.” My tears slow, but the ache remains. A heavy, overwhelming ache. “And even if you can’t find the father,” Mia continues, “you won’t be alone. I’m still here. I’ll help you. We’ll figure everything out together.” For a moment, I just breathe. In and out. In and out. Then I whisper, “But how do I start, Mia? How do I even begin?” She looks at me with a determined softness. “One step at a time.” I turn my head, looking at the two pregnancy tests lying on the bed. Two tiny windows.Two pink lines.One irreversible truth. My life will never be the same again. And for the first time since Mia held my shaking hand, I whisper the words that have been clawing at my chest: “I’m pregnant for a stranger.”CHAPTER FORTY TWO His hand stays warm on my hip as he studies me, that slow, dangerous smile still tugging at his lips. The room feels almost too quiet after the storm we just created on the bed. “So,” he murmurs, “you went to Frederick… to help you leave the palace.” I nod softly. Instead of getting angry, his expression deepens with something chill, almost amused. “You should have come to me,” he says, brushing his fingers along my cheek. “If you want to go out, I’ll allow it. But you won’t go anywhere without my protection.” His thumb strokes my lower lip. “You’ll go with securities. Always.” My heart beats. I open my mouth, but he lifts my chin gently, stopping me. “And in five days,” he continues, voice dropping into that commanding tone that makes my knees weak even lying down, “I will announce to the court that we’re getting married. And that you’re to be ranked as Lady Countess.” My heart nearly jumps out of my chest. “That title,” he adds, b
CHAPTER FORTY ONE "I—I thought you were Nina,” I whisper. Adrian doesn’t answer. His eyes travel down my body, slow and deliberate, lingering on the red lace nightdress clinging to every curve I should definitely not be showing him. Heat coils low in my belly under that stare. His gaze drags back up to my face, sharp, burning, impossible to hold. Then he speaks, low and controlled: “Why were you coming out of Frederick’s chambers that night?” Of all the things to ask, this is what’s eating him. I lift my chin, almost daring him. “And what if I don’t want to tell you?” My voice comes out soft… and accidentally seductive. His reaction is instant. He steps in, grabs my throat lightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to command stillness and kisses me. Hard. Deep. Like he’s been starving for it for days. When he pulls back, his lips hover over mine. “Will you answer now?” My breath shudders. “No.” That one word sets something off in him. His
CHAPTER FORTY Josephine reaches for me again, ready to shove me a second time, when a voice cracks through the field like thunder. “HOW DARE YOU TOUCH THE MOTHER OF MY CHILD!” The whole archery ground stops. Bows drop. Chatter dies instantly. Even Josephine’s arm freezes mid-air. Adrian and Katerina stand at the entrance, but it’s Adrian’s fury that fills the space. He looks like he walked straight out of a storm—jaw tight, eyes blazing, shoulders tense with barely controlled anger. Josephine falls to her knees so fast the dust lifts. The other noble ladies follow, heads lowered, shaking. But Adrian is far from done. He steps closer, towering over Josephine. His chest rises and falls heavily, he’s shaking with rage. “You dare bully and endanger a pregnant woman?” he growls. “You dare touch a Royal heir?” Josephine collapses deeper, nearly sobbing. “M-my king, I swear—” “What level of cruelty,” he snaps, “makes you torment a woman carrying
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE And then, we turn at the same time on hearing Katerina’s voice slicing through the room. “There you are,” she says sharply. “My husband, I’ve been looking for you. And what exactly are you doing with her?” Her eyes land on me, full of displeasure she thinks she’s hiding but I see it. She hates that he’s talking to me. She hates that I’m here at all. Adrian straightens, suddenly taller, colder. He doesn’t even answer the question she asked. “This is *my* resting house,” he says evenly. “Why would the queen be looking for me here?” I bow politely to both of them, even though the tension between us hangs thick in the air. “Your Majesties,” I say softly. “I’ll excuse myself.” Before I even turn, she’s already sliding closer to him, pressing her body against his like she wants to stake her claim. I let out a low scoff as I walk away. *He’s your husband,* I think. *Shouldn’t you two be doing more than clinging like scared teenagers?*
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT For a split second, an image flashes through my mind, him fucking me with this angry face of his, and rough, eyes locked on mine and I snap myself out of crazy thought. God, what is wrong with me? Why is a furious king the hottest thing I’ve ever seen? He doesn’t flinch. “Repeat what you said,” he growls. Fine. I lift my chin. “Why am I the only one suffering?” My voice cracks, but I don’t hide it. “We were both there that night. We both made that mistake. Yet I’m the only one being dragged through hell.” His expression tightens, but I don’t stop. “You never once asked what kind of life I wanted,” I continue, pain slipping into every word. “You don’t care. Do you even understand what it means to be labeled a concubine? For life?” I laugh, but it comes out broken. “I was drunk, Adrian. Out of my mind. And yet I’m the one being hated, judged, ripped apart. And now my family—” My voice shakes. “My family is being hunted
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN I push past Nina’s worried protests and step out into the hallway, following the growing noise drifting in from the front grounds. A security guard hurries by, and I stop him. “What’s going on out there?” He gives a small, respectful bow. “The shouting is coming from beyond the main gates, my lady. A group of farmers is protesting the tax increases.” Then he heads off again, already speaking into his radio. I stand still, my brain clicking immediately to the argument I overheard between Adrian and former Queen Ravenna, that cold, clipped conversation about rising taxes and “public unrest.” So this is what that was about. I let out a quiet, humorless laugh. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. The mighty King Adrian Drakonis, the same man that can bully me into silence any day of the week, suddenly can’t find the strength to deal with his own people’s problems? How… impressive. Honestly, I have enough problems







