Chapter 5 Two Pink Lines

Vera sat on the edge of her bathtub, her heart pounding so loud it drowned out the silence around her. The white stick trembled in her hand, the little digital screen blinking like it was mocking her.

Wait... wait... wait...

Her stomach churned.

She had been nauseous for days now. At first, she thought it was a stress between the breakup with Edward, crashing at her cousin's place, and applying for jobs like her life depended on it, she hadn't exactly been sleeping or eating well.

But when her period missed its cue, her breath had caught in her throat.

No. It couldn't be.

She remembered that night all too vividly. The heat of Michael's touch. The way her body came alive in his arms. She hadn't thought about protection. She had been too consumed by pain, by hunger, by the need to feel wanted.

And now...

Pregnant?

The stick beeped.

Her hands clenched as she forced her eyes down.

Pregnant.

Two pink lines stared up at her like a cruel joke.

Vera dropped the test into the sink and stumbled back, clutching her chest as tears fell.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, no, no..."

How could this happen?

She wasn't ready for a baby. She didn't have a job. She barely had a place to live. And the father? A stranger. A dangerous stranger. A man whose name whispered of power, blood, and criminal empires.

Michael Robb.

Her body remembered him vividly. The way he kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered. The way he looked at her with fire in his eyes. It hadn't just been lust that night it had been something else. Something she couldn't name.

But that didn't change the facts.

He didn't know her full name. She had slipped out of his bed like a shadow in the night, thinking she'd never see him again.

And now she carried his child.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, her throat tightening.

Could she do this? Alone?

Then, suddenly... her tears stopped.

Because beneath the panic, beneath the fear and uncertainty, something stirred.

Hope.

She had always wanted a family. A child who would love her without conditions. A baby who wouldn't care if she was plus-sized, if she didn't look like models on magazine covers. Someone who'd be hers.

"I'm keeping you," she whispered, voice trembling.

The decision came with a strange kind of peace.

She didn't need Edward. She didn't need validation from anyone. She had survived heartbreak, humiliation, and abandonment. She would survive this too. For her baby.

The next morning, she marched into the towering glass building downtown RKM International and handed in her application to be a personal assistant. She needed a job. A steady income. Security.

When the call came a week later saying she'd gotten the position, she cried.

And on her first official day, dressed in her best-thrifted blazer with a nervous smile on her face, she rode the private elevator up to the top floor ready to meet the CEO she'd be working under.

The doors slid open with a chime.

And there he was.

Standing tall behind a marble desk, tailored suit hugging his frame, dark eyes lifting to meet hers with surprise.

Her breath caught.

Michael.

Judging by the way his eyes widened, how the corners of his lips twitched in shock, and something else entirely...

He remembered her too.