روايات وقصص ضمن Lucy Monroe The Billionaire's Pregnant Mistress

The headline blared across her screen in bold, aggressive lettering, accompanied by a high-resolution paparazzi photograph of a glamorous penthouse model sobbing outside a prominent Manhattan medical clinic: EXCLUSIVE: BILLIONAIRE ADRIAN STERLING’S SECRET MISTRESS STEPS FORWARD WITH PREGNANCY BOMBSHELL AFTER FOUR-YEAR AFFAIR. Lila’s breath caught completely in her throat, the words swimming before her eyes as the room began to spin. Four years. The exact amount of time she had spent in exile, hidden away in London. She looked up, her gaze colliding with Adrian’s suddenly frantic, silver eyes. The man who claimed to own the very air that she breathed is entirely paralyzed by the two daggers t

Ashlyn Rachel Watson stood at the center of a building withholding the tears that had stopped in her eyes as she didn't want to pour it out here, she simply wanted to take several breathes not wanting to release those tears here. She's heard that the handsome billionaire in town needed in a baby, well, she didn't have one, but could get pregnant for him, she heard from a friend that Blaze Lucas Campell is ready to pay a wholesome to get himself an heir.

“You’re good at it, the ruthless billionaire part. But don’t let it take over again.” “I won’t,” I promised. “This is different now, it’s for us. For Lily. Not for ego.” She nodded, her hand resting on my chest. “I believe you.” We sat like that for a long time. The city lights twinkled outside. Lily slept peacefully. It felt like we were finally getting somewhere. But later that night, as I was checking my emails before bed, a new alert popped up. A fresh article had dropped. The headline read: “Damon Sterling’s Ex-Mistress Speaks Out Again: Claims She’s Still in Contact with Billionaire Despite New Baby.”

The headline screamed across a popular Miami gossip site, complete with a blurry but unmistakable photo of them leaving the hospital together yesterday Lucian’s arm wrapped tightly around her, his suit jacket draped over her shoulders, one hand subtly guarding her midsection. “Billionaire CEO Lucian Kane’s Secret Mistress Pregnant? Insider Claims Harper Heiress is Carrying Kane’s Heir Amid Corporate Scandal” Below it, the article quoted an “anonymous senior source close to Reed Enterprises” who claimed the pregnancy had been confirmed, that Lila was already showing, and that Lucian’s obsession with his young employee had compromised his judgment potentially endangering the company’s stabilit

had earned him. “So, Mrs. Billionaire,” he said, sipping from a gold-rimmed glass, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Lena gave a tired smile. “I’m just… trying to trust that peace is real.” “Hmm,” Kenny hummed. “The 'finally happy' phase always makes people suspicious.” She told him about the message. Not the image—but the words. The warning. Kenny leaned back. “And you haven’t asked Carson yet?”

Flipping it lined Lucas's family pockets with billions—and cemented her as the "perfect helpmeet." A flash of last life's agony hit me: pregnant, locked in a cold hospital room, not even allowed near the window. Until the day I died in labor, delirious, hearing maids gossip—Josephine was the kingdom's most revered woman then. I snuck a look out the window. Lucas had his arm around her, watching the snow. "Starting bid: one billion dollars." The room was so quiet you could hear the chandelier sway. Front-row businessmen murmured; one scoffed.

But Lucien noticed everything—the way his shoulders were just a fraction too stiff, the flicker in his eyes that betrayed the weight of what he carried. “Report,” Lucien ordered. For a moment, Matteo didn’t speak. His jaw worked once, like he was forcing the words into place. Finally, he said, “Boss… the clinic called me this afternoon. They said the results are out" Lucien’s gaze sharpened, cold and expectant. “And?” Matteo’s throat bobbed with a swallow. His hands locked behind his back, the gesture of a soldier delivering bad news. “She’s pregnant.”

I will not let them shatter you. The way he'd spoken, the tone of his voice so hypnotic—made me have to believe him. Michael cleared his throat. "There is something else. You have to see this." Lucas and I followed him to an SUV in the parking lot. Michael got into the car and took out his phone, holding it out to us. The screen flashed to life with a live broadcast. And I saw it. "BREAKING NEWS: Billionaire CEO Lucas Kent's secret mistress accused of corporate fraud.

“You little bitch! I will make you—” “Does your wife know about the apartment you own, one on Lexington Avenue?” I watched his face turn pale, and a wicked smirk tugged at my lips. “I believe she doesn't. I doubt you'd tell your wife about the mistress who lives there. Cecily Waters, right? She's quite a beauty. Wasn't she underage when you became her sugar daddy? And now”—I glanced at the data and let out a dramatic gasp—“Cecily is pregnant. Third month, isn't it?”

The rumors had exploded like wildfire, and I had no idea who lit the match. "Lucy is infertile." "She used Derek to try and stay relevant now that Alpha Ellison’s losing interest." "Bet she doesn’t even have a wolf—how did she get this far anyway?" I tried to hold my head high, to walk past the servants and nobles and guests with my chin up, my steps confident. But every whisper felt like a blade. And then came the worst part. Pictures.