The CEO's plus-size baby mama

“Why is today this busy?”

Chef Mike groans, his sharp voice barely cutting through the clatter of pans and shouting in the kitchen.

As our head chef, he’s supposed to be the one keeping everyone calm.

Instead, he looks like he’s about to lose his mind.

I smile at him. “Tired so soon, Chef?”

If you only knew.

I turn back to my station, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

The kitchen is unbearably hot. The fryers are hissing, pans are clattering, and everyone seems to be shouting at the same time.

“Table twelve has been waiting for their order for twenty-nine minutes!” Mark shouts.

“Where are Joan and the others?”

“Attending to guests!”

I look down at the dish in front of me.

The sauce is perfect. The garnish is already in place.

“Is it ready?”

“Yes.”

“Give it to me.”

I quickly strip off my chef’s jacket and grab a server’s uniform.

“Watch my station!”

I rush out of the kitchen.

By the time I finish serving table twelve and another eight tables, my legs are aching.

Joan notices me leaning against the counter and immediately hands me a bottle of water.

“Here. Drink.”

I take a long sip.

“Thank you.”

“Table sixteen is asking for the check,” I tell her.

Before she can answer, someone shouts from the kitchen.

“Room eight-thirteen’s order is ready!”

I turn immediately.

I grab the dishes, place them on a food cart, and push it toward the elevator.

By the time the elevator reaches the eighth floor, my arms are already aching.

Okay.

I really need to lose some weight.

The doors open.

I roll the cart into the hallway.

Then I stop.

Eight-thirteen.

Or was it eight-eighteen?

I stare at the room numbers.

Suddenly, dizziness washes over me.

My hand tightens around the cart.

What is happening?

My vision blurs for a few seconds before slowly returning.

I take a deep breath.

Then something even stranger happens.

My body feels hot.

Not from the kitchen.

This is different.

It feels like I'm craving something.

Or…

Someone.

I shake my head.

“What is wrong with me?”

I look at the doors again.

Then, without thinking too much about it, I push the cart toward 818.

I knock.

“Room service.”

Silence.

Then—"Enter."

The deep, raspy voice sends a strange shiver down my spine.

I push the door open.

The room is dark.

Heavy curtains cover the windows, and the air feels thick.

A man is sitting on the sofa.

He looks…

Wrong.

Not physically.

Just like he's in pain.

“Sir, are you okay?”

I step closer.

And the moment I do, the heat inside my body becomes stronger.

My skin prickles.

My breathing quickens.

Why do I feel like this?

The man slowly lifts his head.

His eyes meet mine.

For a second, neither of us moves.

Then he suddenly reaches for me.

I barely have time to react before he pulls me toward him.

His lips crash against mine.

My mind goes blank.

I should push him away.

I know I should.

But something inside me screams that this is what I wanted.

He smells like leather and amber.

The room spins.

His touch feels strangely familiar.

Then nothing.

I wake up the next morning with a pounding headache.

For several seconds, I don't move.

Then I open my eyes.

This isn't my room.

My heart starts racing.

I pull the blanket closer to my body.

I'm naked.

“What…?”

A man stands near the window with his back toward me.

He's pulling a shirt over his shoulders.

I stare at him.

“Who are you?”

He doesn't turn around.

“Shameless.”

My eyes widen.

“What did you do to me?”

He buttons his shirt.

“Playing dumb?”

“I don't understand.”

“You must be tired of living.”

“What?”

He finally turns slightly.

His expression is cold.

Unreadable.

Then I notice something.

A small birthmark on the side of his left thigh.

I don't understand why my eyes stay there.

Maybe because I'm trying to find something familiar.

Anything.

But I remember nothing.

He looks directly at me.

“Who hired you?”

I freeze.

“What?”

“Who sent you?”

“No one!”

His jaw tightens.

“This never happened.”

He walks toward the door.

“Wait!”

He doesn't stop.

The door closes.

I sit there frozen.

My heart breaks.

He took my first time.

And I don't even remember it.

Tears immediately fill my eyes.

How could this have happened?

Who was he?

And why can't I remember anything?

Nearly an hour later, I finally force myself out of the bed.

My legs ache as I put on my clothes.

I wipe my tears and open the door.

Then I freeze.

My family is standing outside.

My mother's eyes immediately move past me and into the room.

“Ruby!”

I gasp.

“What are you doing here?”

My stepfather's expression darkens.

“Is this what you come here to do?”

I stare at him.

“What?”

“Work as an escort?”

“No!”

My voice shakes.

“I was just delivering food.”

“Liar!” Cleo snaps.

“A friend of mine saw you with a man.”

I look desperately at my mother.

“Mom, please believe me.”

Her face remains cold.

“Were you with a man last night?”

I swallow.

"Yes, but—"

"What happened?"

“I don't know.”

Silence.

Then Cleo laughs.

“You don't know?”

“Stop lying!”

“Cleo!” my mother snaps.

But she doesn't defend me.

Instead, she walks straight past me.

Into the room.

“Mom, wait!”

She walks toward the bed.

Then slowly pulls the blanket away.

Silence.

My eyes fall on the white sheet.

A small spot of blood.

My mother's eyes immediately find mine.

“Ruby… was it you?”

I can't speak.

My stepfather scoffs.

“How can you be this shameless,where is the money?”

My chest tightens.

My first time was taken.

And all he cares about is money.

Money I don't even have.

Cleo crosses her arms.

“Who would even pay to be with someone like her?”

“Cleo.”

“I'm sure she's the one who pays.”

My eyes fill with tears.

“Mom…”

A sharp slap lands across my cheek.

My head snaps to the side.

I stare at her.

She doesn't apologize.

“Let's go.”

She takes Cleo and my stepfather with her.

Leaving me standing there.

People are staring.

Some guests have even stepped out of their rooms.

I lower my head as tears blur my vision.

Then I hear a familiar voice behind me.

“Ruby.”

I turn.

The manager is standing there.

His face is hard.

“My office.”

The moment we enter his office, he points toward the chair.

But I don't even get the chance to sit.

“You can't work here anymore.”

My heart drops.

"Sir, I—" "We have rules for a reason.”

He looks at me.

“You are not allowed to use guest facilities.”

“I know.”

“You are not allowed to eat or drink in guest areas.”

“I know.”

“And you certainly cannot sleep with a guest.”

My lips tremble.

“Sir, I don't know what happened.”

He stares at me for a long moment.

Then sighs.

“I'm sorry, Ruby.”

He looks away.

“But you're laid off.”

A sob escapes my throat.

I quickly wipe my tears.

I refuse to cry in front of him.

I gather my things.

And walk out of the hotel with my head lowered.

The moment I step outside, I stop.

The memories still won't come.

Only his voice.

His scent.

His cold eyes.

And that strange birthmark.

I clench my fists.

Who did this to me?

I take a shaky breath.

Who drugged me?