Chapter 9 The Confrontation

The following morning, Vera stepped into the office with her usual grace, but her heart was racing. She had spent the entire night curled in bed, wondering if she should quit, disappear, run far from the man whose gaze made her knees weak and who now, she feared, knew.

Michael hadn't said anything after the rooftop. He held her for a while. Warm. Gentle. Protective.

And that scared her more than anything.

Because Michael Robb wasn't supposed to be gentle.

He was supposed to be danger-wrapped in suits and power.

Not the man who brushed the hair from her eyes or carried her like she was made of glass.

As she passed the front desk, his voice came through the intercom, smooth and deep.

"Miss Stanford. My office. Now."

Her stomach flipped.

She straightened her blouse and walked to the top floor, determined to act unbothered. But the moment she stepped inside his office and saw the look on his face, her throat went dry.

He was standing by the windows, his back to her. Still. Too still.

"Close the door," he said.

She obeyed, heart hammering.

He turned slowly, his dark eyes locked onto hers and this time, there was no mask.

Just quiet intensity.

"You're pregnant."

Vera flinched.

No buildup. No gentle probing.

Just the truth. Spoken like a verdict.

She swallowed hard. "I

"Don't lie," he said, his voice low but firm. "I know the signs. I know what I saw yesterday. And I know it's mine."

Silence.

The kind that vibrated through her bones.

She looked away. "I wasn't going to tell you."

"Why the hell not?" His voice rose not with rage, but something else. Something raw.

"Because I don't know who you are," she snapped, suddenly unable to hold it in. "I don't know what kind of man you are! All I knew was that one night, you made me feel wanted. And then I woke up, and reality came crashing down."

His jaw clenched. "I would've been there, Vera."

"I didn't want you there."

That hurt flashed in his eyes, but she pressed on, needing to get it out.

"I didn't want some mafia king or billionaire CEO trying to control my life just because of a baby. I was terrified. And honestly?" Her voice cracked. "I didn't think you'd care."

Michael walked toward her, slow and deliberate. "You think I'm the kind of man who'd let my child grow up not knowing who I am?"

She stared at him, trembling. "Are you?"

His eyes softened, and he reached out but didn't touch her hovering close, as if waiting for permission.

"I don't know what the hell is happening between us," he said quietly. "But I know one thing. You're not doing this alone."

Tears welled up in her eyes before she could stop them.

"I don't need your pity."

"This isn't pity, Vera." He stepped closer, his hand brushing hers. "This is mine. You're mine. And I take care of what's mine."

The words sent heat through her veins, equal parts fear and want.

He dipped his head, his forehead pressing against hers, lips a breath away.

"Let me in," he murmured.

And just like that... her walls began to crumble.