All Chapters of One Night Stand with My Stepdad: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The sterile white walls of the private examination room seemed to close in, pressing against my chest with the weight of a collapsing building.The small white plastic stick rested on the silver tray between Dr. Harrison and me. It looked innocent—almost harmless. Just a piece of modern plastic designed to measure hormones and decode biological mysteries. But to me, it felt like a detonator."I... I don't need to take it," I stammered, my voice trembling so violently the words barely formed. I pulled the edge of the paper gown tighter around my shoulders, my fingers clawing into the thin fabric. "It's just stress. It's exhaustion from the acquisition. I haven't been sleeping, Dr. Harrison. That's all it is."Dr. Harrison didn't push me. He didn't hand me the stick or force my hand. He simply sat back on his stool, his calm, weathered face radiating a quiet, professional patience."Elena, look at me," he said gently.I forced my eyes up to meet him."Your symptoms are textbook. The sud

The public face of the Vance empire was an impenetrable fortress of wealth, power, and flawless domestic harmony. Over the next two weeks, the high-society columns and financial tabloids couldn't get enough of Marcus and Vanessa Vance.Where my mother had once spent her evenings surrounded by gossip magazines and half-empty bottles of wine, she was now swept up in a whirlwind of public appearances. Marcus, who historically treated social galas and chamber-of-commerce dinners like mandatory prison sentences, suddenly became remarkably accommodating.He escorted Vanessa to the annual charity ball at the Met. He stood beside her at high-profile acquisition dinners, his hand resting possessively at the small of her back. When photographers flashed blinding lights in their direction, Marcus would offer that rare, devastatingly controlled fraction of a smile, while Vanessa leaned into his shoulder, radiating the triumphant glow of a woman who had successfully conquered the apex predator of

The digital clock on my desk glowed bright red: 2:14 PM.I was staring down at a massive spreadsheet detailing the supply chain acquisitions for King Holdings, trying desperately to force my brain to process columns of numerical data. My mind, however, was miles away. It was trapped in the sterile white examination room, echoing with the rhythmic, frantic sound of a tiny heartbeat that I had sworn to protect, conceal, and bury from the world.Every second felt like walking on thin ice. Every breath was a calculated risk."Elena?"Chloe’s voice broke through my heavy fog. I blinked, looking up from my monitor to see my best friend standing by my glass partition. Her green eyes were wide, and an expression of deep, unadulterated shock was plastered across her face."What is it?" I asked, my voice tight as a fresh wave of anxiety spiked through my chest. "Is Marcus calling for the asset report?""No," Chloe whispered, shaking her head as she took a step closer, lowering her voice so the

The silence on the executive floor was heavy enough to crush bone.Julian’s desperate demand—Tell them why you left me!—reverberated off the mahogany walls and glass partitions, hanging in the air like an unexploded grenade. My chest seized violently. The oxygen vanished from my lungs, leaving me gasping in a vacuum of sheer, unadulterated panic.For a fraction of a second, I thought I was going to collapse right there on the plush carpet.Marcus had frozen mid-stride. His massive frame was rigid, his shoulders locked like steel cables. His silver-gray eyes were locked onto my face, burning with a dark, terrifying intensity that promised absolute devastation. He had processed Julian’s demand instantly, waiting to see what dark secret lay buried beneath the wreckage of our past.If he demanded the raw truth right here, in front of the entire floor, everything would spiral out of control.I have to save it.I have to deflect.Driven by a desperate, survival-instinct adrenaline, I didn't

The heavy oak doors of the Vance estate closed with a dull, echoing thud, sealing off the sprawling foyer from the biting chill of the Manhattan evening.Gabriel Sinclair had not been invited into the private family quarters. Marcus had ensured that much. With a single, brutal wave of his hand, he had relegated the disgraced patriarch to the perimeter gates, refusing to let a desperate, bankrupt man track the mud of his failures across the polished marble floors of the Vance home.Yet, Gabriel had left behind a seed.A single, folded piece of heavy cardstock slipped through the security detail, addressed not to Marcus, not to Elena, but specifically to Vanessa. It contained a single time, a luxury hotel downtown, and a silent promise: Information regarding the true nature of the Vance-Sinclair alignment.Now, forty-eight hours later, Vanessa stood in the private study of the Vance estate, adjusting the collar of her emerald-green cashmere coat before the gilded full-length mirror."Yo