Knocked Up By My Nemesis Novels & Stories

The only people who didn’t know it were the ones busy being actually devastated—my mother, folded into herself like something broken, and my father, his hand pressed flat against his chest as if he could hold his own heart in place. I watched them and felt something I didn’t have a name for. Not quite grief. Not quite rage. Something in between, something with teeth. Then there was Antonio. Antonio, who killed me. Antonio, letting people wrap their arms around him. Antonio, accepting condolences with the practiced ease of a man who had rehearsed this moment and found it suited him. You are a damn liar, I thought, standing close enough that I could have reached out and touched his face. And I

I had told myself, standing in the registry office three weeks prior with trembling hands and a practiced calm, that this was a practical arrangement. My family's debt cleared. My younger brother's university fees secured. A future, however cold, that was better than the alternative. I had told myself I was strong enough to marry a man who looked through me like glass. But then he had looked at me across that sterile room, and something shifted in his jaw — barely anything, a flicker — and I had thought: “maybe.” That single, foolish maybe had carried me all the way to this reception. "You're staring." I startled. He had crossed the room without my noticing — a talent of his, I would later l

' 'Do you know the black hunter? 'Who knocked me out?' 'Why did he kill at my club?' 'Did your stalkerish obsession get a bit too high to control you needed to kidnap me?' She's obnoxious more than I thought. 'I do not have an obsession with you.' I stated coldly. 'Then why the questions?' 'I want my answers.' 'Curiosity killed the cat.' she snapped back at me. 'A cat has nine live, Nemesis.' 'That's my name now?' Nemesis. That was the perfect name for her. She was the enemy not any sort of ally in any way.

I raised my hands to hit her. “Hit me!” she stood in front of me, challenging me. “You want to kill this one in my stomach too? You didn’t know I almost lost the child when you pushed me and my head hit that table? Go on, finish what you started. Kill your second child!” “Claire!” I screamed my knees on the floor. “Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough. I’m not a killer… I’m not a killer…” I said it, trying to assure myself.

The deliberation in his steps, Luca rose and walk slower toward him. "You really should have stayed out of this," he said coolly before kicking the gun further. He stared back, his lips curling over one another in a sneer. "This isn't over, Romano." Luca knelt, face dark. "You're right. It's not. But you won't be around to see the end of it." His eyes went wide, but before he had a word out, Luca's fist met with a quick punch, and he slumped into unconsciousness.

He proceeded to jab a kick at the man and defended himself, “I don't know this person. You’re setting me up!” I recognized the man at last. I had seen him before at Dalton Corporation, and in an instant, I connected the dots. I turned to look at Noah in disbelief and then slapped him across the face. “You scumbag! How could you do something like this?” I knew he had always been a scumbag, but I never thought he would resort to hiring a hitman. He was a vile, despicable man! Noah turned pale as he mumbled, “Anya, listen to me–”

His scream echoed round the room. "You touched what's mine. If you ever breathe the same air as her again, I will send you to your creator, and not a single person will cough." I drove my fist into his jaw one last time, completely knocking him unconscious. I dropped his limp body onto the ruined glass, wiping the fresh blood from my knuckles onto my jeans. I turned on my heel and walked out of the house, slamming the broken door behind me. Minutes later, the engine of my motorcycle roared to life as I tore away from the fraternity block.

Even if ours had started as an arrangement, it was still real enough to have consequences. But I wasn't going to tell Clara that. Instead, I took another sip of water. “I'm mostly annoyed that everyone keeps reminding me.” “That is because you're getting married.” “I know.” “With Sebastian.” “I know.” “Your childhood nemesis.” “I am painfully aware.” “The man who used to beat you in academic competitions.” “He didn't beat me that often.” Clara raised an eyebrow. “Fine. Enough times.” She laughed. Then her expression softened. “You know, I still can't believe you're actually doing this.”

I blocked another strike, as she relentlessly came at me, screaming incoherent words. Desperate to defend myself and protect Destiny, I knocked the bedpan out of Jenna's hands. She panted from exertion, but she was determined. She sprang at me; her nails clawing at my face, narrowly avoiding my eyes. Despite my reluctance, instinct took over, and I instinctively punched her.

So waking up next to him felt less like fate and more like an impossible tie‑breaker neither of us had planned. I yanked my dress over my head. “You’re unbelievable.” He smirked. “So I’ve been told. By you. Many, many times.” “Fine,” I hissed. “Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen.” “Pretend what didn’t happen?” he teased, sitting up. “You moaning my name in E minor?” I glared. “You’re disgusting.” He stood, bare-chested and infuriatingly unbothered. “You’re the one who kissed me first.”