Chapter 4 Pregnant

Anastasia point of view

I waited until mid-morning before I knocked on the double oak doors at the end of the west corridor.

A butler opened it halfway, expression neutral. "Yes?"

"I need to speak with Mr. Winston," I said, trying to sound composed.

The butler stepped back without another word.

I walked in.

Vincenzo stood near the window, dressed in a tailored black suit, one hand in his pocket, the other swirling dark liquid in a crystal glass like he had the world figured out.

He didn't turn.

"I assume you slept well," he said.

"Not really," I replied.

"Still adjusting to the estate?"

"No." I paused. "I came for my payment."

That made him pause. He turned slowly, those grey eyes locking onto mine.

"Excuse me?"

I lifted my chin. "The contract said payment begins after the first night."

"I'm aware of what it said."

"Then I want what I'm owed."

He stared at me for a moment. The corner of his mouth lifted-but it wasn't amusing.

It was a dismissal.

"The contract said payment begins," he said calmly. "But it's contingent on you getting pregnant."

My stomach dropped.

"That wasn't in the fine print," I said tightly.

He walked toward me, slow, deliberate. "You thought it was one night and you walk away with millions?"

I swallowed. "Yes. That was the understanding."

"It was your understanding," he said, voice like silk stretched too tight. "Not mine."

I clenched my fists. "So what now? You keep me here until I'm-what? Knocked up and useless to you?"

"You're not useless," he said softly, stepping too close. "You're the girl I searched for half my life. You're the only person I ever wanted to find."

"And you think trapping me here is how you'll keep me?"

"I think giving me a child will make it harder for you to run."

I took a step back.

He didn't follow-but his gaze did.

"You signed the contract, Anastasia," he reminded. "You walked in here voluntarily."

"To help my family," I snapped. "Not to be caged like a broodmare."

He arched his brow. "Then you should've read the fine print more carefully."

I turned and stormed out before I said something worse.

That afternoon, I locked the bathroom door and rummaged through the side pocket of my duffel bag.

I hadn't brought much with me-but I'd brought this.

The pills.

Just in case.

I popped one into my mouth, swallowed it dry, and braced myself against the sink.

He would not win.

He could keep his obsession, his twisted version of love, his scar-filled stories. I didn't remember them. I didn't want to.

All I wanted was out.

With the half-payment still unpaid, I couldn't walk away-not yet. But I would buy myself time and freedom.

The pills would keep me safe until I figured out how to leave for good.

Vincenzo made sure to come make out with me that night and every other night.

No matter how I tried to push him away, he never bulged. Thus, I let him have his way.

At meals, his eyes lingered too long. When I walked through the halls, I felt the weight of invisible eyes behind me. The maids were polite, but stiff. The butler, robotic.

And Felicia-the head maid-watched me with thinly veiled contempt.

One morning, I caught her in my room.

"Excuse me," I said sharply. "Why are you in here?"

She turned, calm as ever. "I was instructed to make sure everything was tidy."

My bag was open on the bed.

My pulse skipped. "Including going through my personal belongings?"

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "You're part of the Winston household now. There are no secrets here."

She left before I could answer.

I waited until the door closed before snatching my bag and checking it.

The pills were still there.

I shoved them into the lining of my robe.

I didn't trust her and I didn't trust him.

By the fourteenth day, I started to feel it.

Nausea. Headaches. Fatigue.

My heart sank every time I woke up queasy. I told myself it was anxiety. Stress. The guilt of selling my body to a billionaire and staying in a house that smelled like silk and secrets.

But somewhere deep inside... I knew Something had gone wrong.

Or maybe... exactly right, depending on whose side you were on.

Day twentieth. I skipped breakfast and stayed in bed. My chest ached. My head was spinning. When Dr. Grant knocked on the door with her gentle voice and clipboard, I barely made it to the chair.

She took my vitals. Asked a few questions. Then handed me a pregnancy strip.

My fingers trembled as I took it.

"Now?" I asked.

She nodded. "We've been monitoring your hormone levels. We believe it's early-but already visible."

I locked myself in the bathroom.

And cried the moment the second pink line appeared.

Positive. How?

How, despite everything-despite the pills, the planning, the care-

I stared at the test like it had betrayed me.

Because it had.

I didn't come out of the room the rest of the day.

Not until midnight.

That's when he came.

Vincenzo opened the door like he owned the air. Like he'd known all along.

His eyes found mine. He didn't smile. Didn't speak.

But he didn't have to.

"You knew?" I whispered.

He stepped inside, slow. "I suspected."

"You watched me."

"I watched the symptoms," he corrected. "Your appetite. Your nausea. Your silence."

"You had no right-"

"I have every right," he said coolly. "You're carrying my child."

I stood up, fire pulsing through me. "I don't want it!"

He paused, something cold flickering in his expression.

"I didn't come here to have your baby," I said, voice shaking. "I came here for the money. That was it. And now-now I'm stuck-"

"You're not stuck," he said flatly. "You're protected."

"Protected?" I laughed bitterly. "You call this protection? You're a prison with gold walls."

His jaw tightened. "Don't say things you'll regret."

"I already regret everything," I snapped. "And I'm not keeping it. I'm getting it removed!"

Silence.

Then-

"No," he said. His voice was quiet. Deadly.

I tried to walk past him.

He caught my wrist.

"If you even try to harm this child," he said coldly, "I will destroy everything you love. Your parents. Their company. Your life. I will bury it all."

I stared at him in horror.

"You wouldn't-"

"I would," he said simply. "Because you're mine. And so is this child."

I yanked my arm free. "You're insane."

"I'm in love."

I laughed bitterly. "No, Vincenzo. You're obsessed with a memory. A fantasy. A little girl who doesn't exist anymore."

"She exists," he said. "And she's standing right in front of me."

I backed away from him with anger surging through my body.

"Get some rest," he said. "We'll announce the engagement tomorrow."

I froze. "What?"

He smiled faintly. "You're going to be my wife, Anastasia. I always keep my promises."

And with that, he turned and walked out.

The door clicked shut and I sank to the floor crying my eyes out.

"Was this how my life is going to end?"