LOGINI'M PREGNANT
My ex. Standing near the parking lot, wearing that same smug grin that used to make my skin crawl. And right beside him, a shiny black car wrapped with a red bow. My smile fades instantly. He waves, striding toward me like we’re old lovers reunited. “Congratulations, sweetheart,” he says smoothly. “Thought you might like a graduation gift.” The people around us glance curiously. I fold my arms, steadying my voice. “Take your gift and leave.” He chuckles, pretending not to hear. “Come on, don’t be dramatic—” “Leave,” I repeat, sharper now. “Or I’ll call security.” That wipes the smile off his face. He mutters something under his breath, then turns and walks away. I exhale, my heart pounding, but I don’t regret it. Not this time. When I turn back, Mia is watching me with a proud smirk. “That’s my girl.” I laugh weakly. “The graduation’s officially a wrap.” As the crowd begins to thin, I glance up at the sky, clear, open, endless. For the first time in weeks, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something new. ******************************************************* I’m sitting cross-legged on my bed, laptop balanced on my knees, typing away at my CV. The hum of the ceiling fan fills the room, and the faint scent of Mia’s coconut hair oil lingers in the air. I’ve been at this for hours, rewriting and deleting, trying to sound confident and professional, anything but the mess I’ve been lately. Across the room, Mia lounges on her side of the bed, scrolling endlessly on her phone. Every few seconds, she gasps or giggles at something, making little commentary to herself. “Ugh! Listen to this!” she suddenly says, her voice bubbling with excitement. I hum distractedly. “If it’s another celebrity scandal, I don’t want to know.” She ignores me, sitting up straighter. “No, this is huge! The future king of Athenora, just got married, to the princess of Valeris Kingdom. Oh my God, look at this picture!” I glance up briefly, amused. “You and your royal obsession.” Mia sighs dreamily. “He’s so handsome it’s unfair. And their wedding? Exotic and epic, like straight out of a fantasy movie.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “You fall in love every week, Mia.” She grins. “Can you blame me?” I smile faintly, turning back to my laptop. My fingers move over the keyboard, but suddenly the words blur. A strange twist hits my stomach, sharp, uneasy. I pause, pressing a hand to my abdomen. The feeling intensifies, turning into a churn so strong I can barely breathe. Heat rushes through me, and before I can make sense of it, nausea hits hard. “I—” I start to say, but my voice dies in my throat. I drop my laptop on the bed and dash toward the bathroom. Mia sits up instantly. “Hey! Are you okay?” I barely make it in time, gripping the sink as I retch, the sound echoing harshly against the tiled walls. My stomach twists again, and I gasp for air, feeling weak and disoriented. What the hell is wrong with me? I sit up on the edge of my bed, my hands still trembling a little. The taste of mint toothpaste lingers in my mouth, but the nausea hasn’t gone away. My mind races as I try to figure it out. Maybe it’s something I ate? I think hard. The noodles from last night? Or the coffee this morning? My stomach grumbles again in protest, and I groan softly. “It’s probably just food poisoning,” I mumble to myself. Determined to ignore it, I go back to my laptop, trying to focus on polishing my CV. But barely a few minutes pass before that awful churning hits again, harder this time. “Oh, not again,” I whisper, pushing the laptop aside as I rush for the bathroom. Mia looks up, eyes widening. “Seriously? You’re throwing up again?” I nod weakly, gripping the sink as another wave hits me. When I finally emerge, I feel drained, my skin cold and clammy. “Melissa, you look pale,” Mia says, walking closer, her voice lined with concern. “Like, really pale. Are you sure you’re okay?” “I don’t know,” I mutter, sitting back on the bed. “Maybe it’s just stress or something.” She tilts her head, studying me carefully. Then her brows knit together. “Wait… when last did you see your monthly flow?” I freeze. My heartbeat skips. “Uh… I—I was supposed to see it last week. But it’s probably just delayed. Hormonal changes, maybe.” Mia’s eyes narrow. “Delayed? That’s weird. You’re never late — you’re like a clock.” “I know,” I say quickly, forcing a shaky laugh. “It’s fine, really. It’ll come.” But she doesn’t look convinced. “Melissa …” she starts softly, sitting beside me. “That night — the one you told me about. The stranger. Did you guys use a condom?” The air leaves my lungs. My mouth opens, but no words come out. How can I remember? I was so drunk, everything from that night is a blur of lights, voices, and mistakes. My head pounds as fragments of that night flash through my mind, his touch, his voice, the way everything felt like a dream I shouldn’t have been in. “I… I don’t know,” I whisper finally, voice trembling. Mia’s eyes widen. “Oh my God.” And that’s when it hits me — the realization that makes my stomach twist all over again. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “No way. No, no, no.” “Melissa —” “No way!” I scream, standing up so fast my laptop nearly falls off the bed. My pulse is racing, my world spinning. “I can’t be pregnant. I can’t!”. Mia grabs her purse, her face pale but steady. “Wait here,” she says quickly. “I’ll rush to the store nearby and get a test kit.” “Mia, you don’t have to—” She cuts me off. “Yes, I do. We need to know, Mel.” Before I can protest again, she’s already halfway out the door. The room goes painfully silent. Only the hum of my laptop and the faint traffic noise from outside fill the air. I start pacing back and forth, my fingers twisting nervously in my hair. I can’t sit still. My mind keeps spinning, jumping from one horrible thought to another. No… it can’t be that. Maybe it’s stress. Maybe it’s food. Maybe my hormones are just messed up. But deep down, a cold fear coils in my chest, the kind that won’t be reasoned with. I stop by the window, staring out at the street below. People walking, laughing, living, while I feel like the ground beneath me is about to crack open. Tears sting my eyes. “Please, God… not this. Not now,” I whisper under my breath. I haven’t even figured my life out yet. I just graduated. I quit my job. I don’t have a plan, not even a proper direction. And a baby? I choke on the thought. I can’t even take care of myself… how would I take care of a child? The fear is suffocating. I press my hands to my chest, trying to breathe, trying to calm down, but every second that passes feels heavier, like the walls are closing in. When I finally hear the front door open and Mia’s hurried footsteps returning, my heart jumps into my throat. She appears in the doorway, breathless, holding a small paper bag. “Okay,” she says softly, her eyes filled with both worry and strength. “I got it.” I swallow hard, staring at the bag like it’s a ticking bomb. My voice is barely a whisper. “What if it’s positive, Mia?” She looks at me for a long moment before answering. “Then… we’ll face it together.” Mia holds out the small paper bag with trembling hands. From it, she pulls out not one, but two test kits. “Here,” she says softly, forcing a weak smile. “Let’s be sure. Just… double-check, okay?” I stare at the boxes in her hands, my heart thudding so loud it echoes in my ears. “Two?” She nods. “Yeah. No mistakes this time.” My fingers feel numb as I take them from her. The plastic feels heavier than it should, like I’m holding my entire future inside two little sticks. Mia squeezes my arm gently. “It’s okay, Mel. Whatever it says, we’ll deal with it.” But the fear in her eyes mirrors mine. I walk slowly toward the bathroom, my knees weak, my stomach twisting again. Once inside, I close the door and lean against it, breathing hard. The small room feels too quiet, too bright. I unwrap the first test, then the second, my hands shaking the whole time. The few minutes feel endless. I can hear my pulse pounding, my breath shallow. When it’s done, I set them on the counter and stare at the little windows, willing them to show something else. Anything else. But they don’t. I stand there frozen for a moment before finally gathering the courage to walk out. Mia’s already on her feet, eyes locked on me. “Well?” she asks, voice trembling. I can’t even speak. I just lift my hand, showing her both sticks. Her eyes dart down to the results, and widen. “F—” she gasps, her voice breaking. “*Fuck!* Both are positive!” The words slam into me like a wall. I just stand there, staring blankly, as tears gather in my eyes. My throat burns, but no sound comes out. “I—” I finally whisper, shaking my head, “what… what am I supposed to do now?” Mia covers her mouth, tears glistening in her eyes too. “Oh, Mel…” The world around me feels distant, muffled, like I’m underwater. My hands tremble as I stare at the two thin pink lines that have just rewritten my entire life.CHAPTER NINETY SEVEN "Of course. I’ll keep you updated,” he says. I nod once, then walk out of his office like I’ve just signed a declaration of war. The taxi ride home feels calm. The city glows outside the window—cafés, laughter, normal lives but none of it feels like my life. My world has narrowed to survival. When I step into the apartment, Nina looks up from the couch. “You’re home early.” Her eyes narrow, scanning me for injuries. “What happened? Are you okay?” “What about Zaiden?” I ask, dropping onto the couch, exhaustion settling into my bones. “He’s napping. Peacefully.” She moves closer. “Mel, are you okay?” I lean back, staring at the ceiling. “Let’s say I’m… awakened.” She frowns. “Awakened to what?” “There are rumors. They’re spreading fast. My past is resurfacing at work.” My jaw tightens. “The hunt is on again.” Her lips press into a thin line. “That’s not good. So what do we do? Move again? Disappear?” I shake my head slowly. “No. Running i
CHAPTER NINETY SIX I flag down a taxi and give him Mr. Dave’s address, my voice steady even as my mind races. Inside, my thoughts won’t slow. I need to go about all this the right way and make sure I’m claiming my hotel by getting the public on my side. My image has already been dragged through filth and lies. Power revealed too early is power wasted, and if I’m going to fight this war and win, I have to be smart, strategic and ruthless.” And I need to protect my family. They are the only leverage my enemies can use to tame me but I won’t give them that opportunity. I map moves in my head—legal angles, quiet allies, exits, leverage. By the time the taxi slows, the panic has been buried beneath resolve. “We’re here,” the driver says. I pay, step out, and instinct takes over. My eyes sweep the street. Parked cars. Reflections in windows. Lingering figures. Nothing screams danger—but danger doesn’t always announce itself anymore. Does it ? Only when I’m satisfied do
CHAPTER NINETY FIVE You all have finally won, I think bitterly. You’ve dragged the cruel Melissa out of hiding. And now I’m going to play dirty with all of you and I won’t hold back, never again. I turn toward the door, my fingers already grazing the handle when Jake’s voice cuts through the room, sharp and threatening. “If you walk out that door,” he says coldly, “say goodbye to your job. And remember how much you need it.” I stop. For a heartbeat, the air holds its breath. Then I turn back. I look at him—really look at him and something in me settles. Calm, unapologetic, and mean. “We’ll see who gets to keep a job,” I say, a slow smile curving my lips. And I walk out. I don’t bother closing the door behind me. The hallway feels different now. Quiet and unwelcoming. Whispers ripple as I pass, hushed voices colliding with the sound of my footsteps. Eyes follow me—some curious, some satisfied, some cruel. I keep my head high, even as something inside me shre
CHAPTER NINETY FOUR It’s a new day and a new week. I step into the hotel and feel it instantly. The air shifts strangely. Eyes follow me as I walk past the lobby. Conversations dip. Smiles stiffen. A few people look away too quickly, like they’ve been caught staring. Strange. Maybe I just look exceptionally good today, I think dryly. I keep walking. At the elevator, I press the button and step inside just as two staff members rush toward it. They’re almost in—until they see me. They stop. Exchange a look. And instead of stepping in, they stay back, watching as the doors slide shut in front of them. Okay… that’s weird. Very weird. My reflection stares back at me in the elevator, nothing out of order. Is there something on my clothes? A stain? A tear? Something I missed? The elevator dings. I step out, unease settling in my stomach. No. Something is off. I quicken my pace toward the staff room. Whatever this is, I need to see it for myself—befo
CHAPTER NIGHTY THREE MELISSA’S POV I pay off the taxi, juggling ice cream cup and a small bag of snacks as we step inside. “A perfect day for a tiny ice-cream date,” Nina says, nudging the door shut with her foot. I smile. “I’m just going to finish mine before I start prepping dinner.” Zaiden immediately declares war on my hand, his tiny fingers reaching, grabbing, and demanding my ice cream cone. “Easy, baby bear,” I laugh. “Just a little taste—” The doorbell rings. Nina and I freeze at the exact same time. “…Did we forget something in the taxi?” I ask, scanning the room like an answer might appear on the wall. The bell rings again. Longer and Insistent. Nina moves first. She walks to the door, peeks through the peephole—then turns back to me, her face drained of color. “Who is it?” I whisper. Instead of answering, she opens the door. And the air in the room changes. My eyes lift. Frederick. He stands there like a memory that refuses to stay buried—b
CHAPTER NINETY TWO "Bring them in.” My voice does not echo or stutter. It commands. Seven figures step forward—not nobles, not officials, just ordinary people in worn clothes and tired faces. Their presence alone fractures the room. Murmurs ripple through the court like a disturbed hive. Their steps are hesitant and their eyes haunted. Some nobles lean forward. Others stiffen, already sensing the situation. I rise slowly from my throne and turn to my uncle. “Well,” I say, calm and lethal, “these ones survived.” Color drains from his face. “How coul—” He stops himself just in time, realization flashing across his face like a blade. His expression screams louder than confession. I lift a single finger. “Quiet,” I tell the court, my tone sharp enough to cut breath. “Let them speak.” One by one, the survivors step forward. Their voices tremble at first—fragile and scared but truth has a way of sharpening courage. They speak of suffocating air, of burnin







