Mr. President Got Me Pregnant

Chapter 1

A million pesos changed everything for us. I bought groceries, school supplies for Hekasi, and things my mom needed. The remaining money is on the debit card. We've paid off our debts. Life has become a little easier for us. Mama is even planning to start a business. I gave her 200k for the store.

"Ma, I'm leaving early today," I said as I stepped out of my room while she was preparing food.

A week has passed, but there's still no word from President Emerson. It's also been a week, yet Mama hasn't asked how I got a million pesos. It's strange.

I'm glad there are no symptoms yet, but I'm anxious every day until my period arrives. I'll only be at ease once it does.

"The food is ready. Eat first before you leave," Mama said, raising an eyebrow.

I'm not alone in life as they think. They say I'm a prostitute, but I'm not. I only look like one because of the people I'm around at the bar who always gossip about me.

"Yes, Ma. Just let me finish this. You take care here. Hekasi needs parents later. I read it in his notebook. Please go," I said.

Papa is gone. He left us long ago. We haven't heard from him since. So, Mama and I manage everything on our own.

I'm wearing a black tight dress and black heels. Mama is used to seeing me dressed like this, and even though she knows my job, she never scolds me. She just constantly reminds me to be careful.

"Ma! I'm leaving now. I need to get to work early," I shouted, rushing through my meal.

"Take care. I'll handle Heka. But next time, stop doing this," Mama said sadly.

Our house isn't big-two rooms upstairs, and everything else downstairs. It's small, but the rent is expensive, 3k plus 2k for water. It's so costly that I work hard at the bar, even if Mama disapproves. I didn't finish school, so this is the best I can do.

Since I started working here, I've always been the target because I'm the Top Choice every day. I talk to many clients at the bar. I just ignore it because this is the only job I can do.

When I enter the bar, the first thing you see is people kissing. There are private rooms upstairs, but officials go there. I haven't been to the private rooms because I'm not qualified yet.

We think all officials are decent? In this world, we believe they're all saints, but they're not. Even if they're not officials, the rich and powerful are driven by lust, whether male or female.

This is nothing new to me, even though I've been doing this job for months. I've memorized every corner.

"Navida, you're here," Ruth, one of my friends here, greeted me.

"Yeah, I ate first," I replied.

We sat down for a bit in the room just for entertainment. I started getting ready for later.

"I noticed someone following you earlier, that's why I greeted you. He's built. I like him," she whispered.

"And it's impossible he's just after sex. A hat? It seems like he's really after you," she whispered, puzzled.

I turned to her, thinking maybe it was just her imagination. Who would follow me? A bodyguard?

I smirked. "Let him be. Let him follow the orders from above. I don't care," I said, even though I was nervous.

Ruth kept bugging me for minutes about who was following me. Even though I was nervous, I had no idea and couldn't confirm anything.

I glanced at the mirror. We didn't notice the Manager entering.

"Get ready, Navida. Many guests are arriving, and they always ask for you, especially the foreigners. Complain if anyone touches you. Entertain only, no touching," the Bar Manager said. Even he is concerned about me, unlike some of my other colleagues.

It's getting dark, and I'll be able to go home by 10 p.m. I'm 18, so the Manager said I could only stay until 10 p.m. because I'm not yet qualified to stay until dawn.

"Miss?" my customer said.

"Ms. Navida, I'm here to entertain you, but it's already 9:30. We can't talk for long. I'm sorry," I said calmly because some get aggressive when I say we can only talk for a short time.

"It's fine, Ms. Navida. You look so young. 18 years old? For me, you don't belong here. No offense. You can go home and rest. This is my tip for you and my card if you want to contact me for help. Goodnight," he said in a firm English accent.

I was amazed by what he said. He was the kindest customer I've ever spoken to. I wish all customers were like him so it wouldn't be so hard.

"Yeah, I'm sorry again. And sure, I will contact you if ever! Go home too. Goodnight," I said with a smile as he stood up to leave.

I'm so tired today. I talked to ten customers, so I'm exhausted. My colleagues, on the other hand, are giving me dirty looks again.

"Oh, before you leave, Nav, here's a tip from the others who were just eyeing you," the Manager said with a laugh.

"You're something, Manager. I didn't expect that from you. Thank you. I'm leaving now. I'm so tired. Goodbye, see you tomorrow," I said.

I didn't expect to see a familiar face passing by the bar before I left. He looked like President Emerson's bodyguard. I didn't want to confirm it as the one Ruth was talking about.

I kept walking, ignoring his presence. Maybe he's just here for another client.

It's impossible that I'm the only one he fucked that night.

### Chapter 3: Demand

I'm in front of the bar, waiting for a taxi to go home, but I suddenly felt nervous, like someone was watching me. I didn't want to think it was the President's bodyguard.

I tried to ignore it, so I started walking, planning to head to a crowded place. But on my third step, someone grabbed me. I turned around and frowned at the man.

"Stop, Miss. Come with us back to the bar, to the private room. Someone wants to talk to you," he said firmly.

I was shocked by what he said, shaking my head because I'm not allowed in the private room since what happened a week ago.

"Sorry, but I'm not allowed anymore. Go to the Bar Manager. There are many others qualified for the private room. I'm sorry," I said as I tried to remove his hand from me, but his grip was strong, so I had no choice.

"Miss, I already cleared it with the Manager. The President just wants to talk to you. That's all. Don't be afraid," he said calmly as his grip loosened.

But, b-but the President? Why would he want to talk to me? I thought he wanted me out of his life? And he gave me over a million pesos to keep quiet about what happened.

He's the President, so he won't do anything bad to me. I know he didn't do anything wrong a week ago, but I'm still uncertain about what happened between us. I'd rather go with him than fight.

"Okay, I'll go with you," I said hesitantly.

**Chapter 4: Cooking**

There was silence inside the van. I thought we would only talk at the bar, but I was wrong. I didn't resist because, who am I? I have no power.

I could say a lot of horrible things to him. Be gentle yet aggressive, but I can't because I'm not as powerful as he is.

"How many hours until we arrive at his Penthouse? If you want to sleep, feel free to do so," he said calmly.

I sighed. I lost interest when he mentioned it would take a few more hours. So, I decided to research President Emerson instead.

He is our President. I only know him as a President, not as a person.

I didn't vote during the election because I prioritized work. Since I was five years old, I spent my time working. I took on different jobs just to help Mama and Hekasi.

He is powerful; everyone knows that. He has been in office for years, and he worked hard for many years to get to where he is now. I don't want to say he has no dirty records, but most importantly, we are human. We are not saints.

I paused while reading an article about him when I read that he has had several girlfriends.

"We're here, Miss."

I felt a heaviness in my chest. I didn't expect to compare myself to him. I am so different from him. His standards are so high that I could never reach them.

As the door opened for me, I immediately saw the bodyguards surrounding the Penthouse. I couldn't even look at them because I saw myself as just air to him. He can feel my presence but not my whole soul.

"This way, Ma'am," his personal bodyguard guided me.

"Thank you, Sir," I replied.

I walked through the grand entrance of his Penthouse. Some areas were dark, but the fountain greeted me before I entered. The lights on the trees added life to the surroundings.

Upon entering, I was immediately greeted by the receptionist and other staff, busy with their tasks. The bodyguard assisted me in the private elevator. I looked at them again, but I noticed they were used to people coming to the President's Penthouse.

When we reached the top floor, I was amazed by the transitional design and various paintings adorning the walls. I wasn't sure what the paintings were called, but it was evident that his unit was well-maintained and clean. We entered, and I saw the grand staircase and the view outside, which gave me the courage to be here at the President's Penthouse.

To Be Continued...

Chapter 2

I didn't notice the kitchen and dining area behind the living room, so I was surprised by his presence. He is so intimidating. Even though we were far apart, I still felt the distance between us.

He was wearing black Nike shorts and a white shirt. His well-built body was noticeable, clearly well taken care of. His eyes lingered on me for a moment, then he nodded to the bodyguard, who immediately left. I didn't know what to do.

"Hm..." I couldn't say anything.

I wanted to approach him, but I shouldn't. He was cooking, so I didn't know what to do. Should I stand or sit?

"You can sit there and watch something," he said.

There was a large television in front of me, and he was on the side cooking pork steak. There were lights beside us, and I could clearly see his posture, something I never thought I would see so clearly.

I didn't look at him again. I focused on the show instead. I could feel his gaze too.

"Stop staring, Navida," he said.

So I looked at him. I couldn't bring myself to respect him. I felt that way earlier, but not anymore. How shameless.

I had been watching the flat screen for an hour, not daring to look toward President Emerson's kitchen. I still couldn't believe I was here, in his penthouse. My eyes wandered around the room, unable to settle. It felt surreal.

I wanted to grab my phone and text my mom that I'd be home late, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I knew I wouldn't be able to resist searching for the President's name again. So many questions ran through my mind-how does he manage to keep his bar visits a secret? What if someone saw me? Where is his family, and why are there no portraits of them?

I turned at the sound of his heavy footsteps on the tiles. It seemed like he was deliberately making noise to announce his presence. I immediately stood up to help, but he merely raised an eyebrow at me, so I stepped aside from the dining table.

I bit my lip. "Do you want some help? To speed things up? It's late, and my mom might be looking for me." I said, but he ignored me.

I sighed as he returned to the kitchen area. I sat back down, eyeing the food he had prepared. I was getting hungry, but I tried not to show it.

"Don't go home yet. Call later. Eat first," he said, sending a shiver down my spine. Why did his words sound so normal yet feel as though he was comforting me, despite being demanding?

I just nodded and kept quiet. When he finally served the food, I was shocked. I thought he was going to serve himself, but he placed the food on my plate instead. It touched me in a way I hadn't expected-no one had ever done that for me before, cared about what I ate.

"Thank you, President," I said, taking a bite of the beef steak and vegetables.

"Easy, there's plenty more in the kitchen. I'll get you more if you finish that, Navida," he glanced at me. "Stop calling me President. Call me by my first name. I prefer it."

I nodded casually and continued eating.

After chewing, I couldn't hold back my curiosity. "Where's your family?" I glanced at him briefly. Even the way he drank looked manly.

"Don't ask about my family. They don't exist to me," he said, turning to me, making me furrow my brows. I decided not to dwell on it.

I just smiled and nodded. If that's what he wanted, why should I argue? It didn't matter to me anyway.

"What am I supposed to do here? Why am I staying until tomorrow?" I asked, taking another bite without hesitation.

"I want to spend time with you, and I'm offering you five months until the end of my candidacy as President," he said calmly.

I didn't care what the deal was as long as it helped my mom. "What's that? I don't mind. So, in five months, you won't be President anymore. I'm sorry if I offend you, but I don't really know much about elections. I'm more concerned about working than debating who to vote for. Nothing changes no matter who's in office." I touched my head and closed my eyes. Stupid mouth. You're talking to the President, and that's what you say?

He chuckled. "It's fine, I'm used to comments like that. We do our best to make things right, but we know someone will always ruin it and not be satisfied. I want to live peacefully without my life being questioned. Tomorrow, I'll send the documents for our arrangement."

"Is your life in danger? Is that why you want me here? You have plenty of guards," I said, relieved to escape my earlier embarrassment.

"I'll explain it to you tomorrow. For now, let's both get some rest. I have a lot of papers to finish. I'll take you to your room before I leave."

"I'm done eating," I said.

"Can I kiss you?" I turned to him, wondering why I felt this way. He's the President; he doesn't need to ask me, but he wanted my consent.

"Yes," I said, almost eagerly.

Up close, his eyes were beautiful. There were no signs of exhaustion despite his workload. I always thought a President carried all the world's burdens, but he seemed untroubled.

His kiss was gentle. His left hand rested on my right cheek. I swallowed hard when his right hand began to caress my left breast.

His kiss was still tender, making me forget the whirlwind of events over the past few weeks. I didn't even ask why he didn't push me away if he was planning to get rid of me. Why does he keep coming back?

"Let's go..." he said calmly.

I opened my eyes, feeling unsatisfied with what had happened, thinking there would be more, but there wasn't.

"Sure," I said and followed him upstairs.

I woke up without even realizing I had fallen asleep. I didn't notice if he had lain beside me last night or if he was in another room. Did he come here to check on me or not? Why am I even hoping for that?

"It's about the d*mn arrangement. I'm willing to do it because of him. Have I gone mad for him? He needs me, but for what when he has so many others on his level?" I sighed, my eyes roaming the spacious room and the curtains blocking the light.

I was so tired that it was only now that I noticed how large his room was-twice the size of our house. The furniture and decor were expensive, probably the most luxurious in the world.

I know he comes from old money. Even as a young man, he had already shown his capabilities, according to media reports, but I know not everything they say is true. Comparing myself to him-a Grade 12 student who hasn't even graduated yet-while he has already achieved so much.

I shook my head and got up, making the bed even though there were no signs that he had slept beside me. I pulled back the curtain and sighed at the beauty of the sky and clouds.

"What have I gotten myself into? Is this right?" I whispered just as there was a knock on the door.

"Good morning, kindly open the door," he said.

I wondered why the door was closed; the last thing I remember was leaving it open. I hurried to avoid inconveniencing him. It was already 7 AM, and I knew how valuable his time was.

I felt guilty. I opened the door and greeted him cheerfully, "Good morning, Emerson!" I had so many questions, but I didn't want to ask them, afraid of changing his mood.

He looked me up and down, raising an eyebrow. I didn't know why I felt like he was disappointed.

"Come downstairs; we need to discuss our arrangement," he said.

I thought he would guide me down the stairs, but his mood was always unpredictable. I couldn't tell if he was happy or sad, annoyed or indifferent toward me. If he was just tolerating me because I was an easy target, then I would tolerate it too-for my family.

I thought he wasn't a gentleman, but when I came downstairs, I found breakfast already prepared, and he raised an eyebrow at me. A proud grin spread across his face.

"You did all this?" I asked as I sat down. "You woke up early to do this even though I know you're busy with your organization." I added as I sat down.

I thought he was going somewhere, but he turned on a cassette player. The music lightened the atmosphere, calming the surroundings.

"You like this song?" he teased as he returned to his seat, sitting across from me, unlike last night when he was beside me.

"I love old songs, and I know you do too. You wouldn't have played it if I didn't like it," I grinned and began eating while he stared at me.

He seemed to be gauging whether I was teasing him or not. I shrugged. I didn't want to banter with him anymore.

I saw a genuine smile appear when he noticed his plate filled with food.

While he was busy with the mix tape, I had already put food on his plate. I thought he had noticed, but he looked at me after inserting the mix tape.

"Hm... Thank you for this. I appreciate it," he genuinely smiled at me.

I knew he was happy, but I couldn't tell if it was all real. I knew he was genuine when he first saw the plate, but now I couldn't feel if his smile was true.

I'm so easily deceived.

No one spoke for a few minutes, the only sound coming from the cassette player, providing emotion even in our silence.

I was about to speak, but he beat me to it, so I just nodded and continued eating.

"You start talking first," he said. He was staring at me, and I didn't realize he had already finished eating. He ate so quickly.

I hesitated, but I didn't want this to bother me any longer.

I took a sip. "What about our arrangement? Don't tell me I have to pretend in front of everyone?" I asked, pausing my meal.

"We don't even need to have a copy of papers for our arrangement. This is a simple favor that can benefit us both. It's 50/50."

I nodded, almost mindlessly agreeing with him.

"So, what? What favor?"

"I want our relationship to be public and real," he said.

I was surprised by his favor. Where's the arrangement? The arrangement where he would help me, but after months, we both knew it was real. I was confused.

"Can you explain to me specifically?" I calmly said.

"I want you. I

To Be Continued...

Chapter 3

I don't want Emerson's name to be tarnished because I work at a club. I know what the media will say. I know they'll twist everything to suit their agenda. They will destroy anyone until they bring them down.

I smiled before sitting next to him. His face was gentle, and it was clear that he'd had a few drinks.

We're told every day that our job is to entertain, with no touching allowed. But now, I shifted uneasily as he placed his hand on my knee, moving up to my thigh.

"Sir... what you're doing is not allowed," I said, removing his hand from my thigh.

"Why? Am I doing something wrong? You're just a prostitute. I can pay you," he replied, clearly very drunk.

I stood up and poured beer on him. I could feel the eyes of the people at the next table, and Ruth was by my side in an instant.

"What happened?" Ruth asked nervously.

"The nerve of you to talk to us like that. You're nothing but trash who can't handle his drinks," I said, panting.

"You're more disgusting than I am. Look at yourself-you can't satisfy your desires, so you want to touch me? Idiot."

I stepped back as he suddenly stood up, and I saw two bouncers approaching.

"I'm not like you, a woman who gets paid just for stripping. I can buy your dignity. You're poorer than dirt, that's why you're here talking to me. I can see what you're wearing-who wouldn't be tempted? You're just a prostitute that everyone has tasted!" he shouted as the two bouncers restrained him.

He resisted, but we all screamed when he suddenly collapsed, and fear was evident on the faces of the two bouncers.

"F*ck you! Don't f*cking say that to any woman!" a voice angrily said. I covered my mouth in shock as I realized it was Emerson who had punched him.

The man's face was bleeding. He smirked before suddenly losing consciousness.

I didn't recognize Emerson at first in his jacket and black pants, and the dim lighting didn't help.

"Emerson?..." I asked. I felt Ruth pull me back, and I noticed the people staring at the man lying on the floor, being attended to by the two bouncers.

He looked at me, then at Ruth, who was visibly shaken.

"Ruth, call the manager. We need help. Ruth!" I shouted. I saw the fear in her eyes, and I couldn't understand why she reacted that way.

"Yes... wait for me, Nav," she quickly responded and left immediately.

I looked back at Emerson, and he hugged me tightly. Even though this isn't real, I will treasure these memories until I die. I will sacrifice every moment to remember them.

I feel safe. I feel safe in his arms. It feels like we're the only ones here inside the club. I wish this were real, more real than myself.

Neither Ruth nor I spoke. Only Emerson's baritone voice could be heard. We were in a private room with the manager, Ma'am Fynn. Ruth sat beside me, still visibly shaken by what had happened. I held her hand to calm her down.

"I don't want to see something like that happen again. This will be her last shift here. I'm sorry about the damages. I'll take full responsibility," he said.

I frowned and looked up at them. Emerson was standing, and Ma'am Fynn's expression was unreadable-whether she was scared or pleased as she looked at him.

I turned to Ruth. "Ruth, I'll take care of you... If something like this happens again-and I hope it never does-call me immediately." I whispered.

She nodded, and I felt her relax at my words. I looked back at Emerson and Ma'am Fynn.

I raised an eyebrow when Emerson glanced at me and then returned his focus to the conversation.

I could no longer hear their conversation as it grew quieter and quieter, even though we were just behind them.

"Please keep it a secret," he whispered, but I heard it. I didn't say anything and grabbed a glass of water to give to Ruth.

She seemed to feel better, unlike earlier. I didn't want to ask her if something had happened to her because the way she reacted earlier made me overthink and worry about her.

I looked at them again as they finished their conversation and approached our table. Ma'am Fynn had a worried look on her face. I glanced at Emerson, and he seemed both angry and annoyed. I wasn't sure if he was still disappointed by what had happened.

"You two should go home. The bar will close early tonight. Get some rest... There might be reporters coming if we keep letting customers and guests in and out," Ma'am Fynn said.

I frowned at the mention of reporters, but then it occurred to me that the President was here and had entered without notice, so it wouldn't be surprising if someone had seen him.

"But what about the video? Did someone take one? It might tarnish Mr. President's reputation."

Emerson shot me a sharp look. I was just asking, with no ill intent.

"Drop the 'Mr. President.' Stop acting like we're strangers," he insisted.

I rolled my eyes and raised an eyebrow at him. In front of these two people, why is he acting weird?

"Excuse me, I'm still one of your citizens in this country, so I'm obligated to show respect in front of them," I replied.

He smiled, refusing to back down.

"You're not just one of my citizens; you forgot we got engaged last night," he said hoarsely.

I sat up straight in shock at his words. I didn't remember us being together.

I was about to respond but chose to ignore him. We didn't even go through the boyfriend and girlfriend stage-engaged right away?!

I coughed a little and looked at Ruth, who was also shocked. Even Ma'am Fynn took a sip of water, fanning herself despite the cold inside.

"Ruth and I will leave now... Thank you so much, Ma'am Fynn, you're a great manager. We'll be going, Mr. President, your bodyguard is waiting for you," I said.

"I'll follow you," he immediately stood up and waited for us to stand.

"You're welcome. Take care, both of you. Ruth, be careful," Ma'am Fynn added.

When we stepped outside the bar, one of Emerson's personal bodyguards offered to take Ruth home. I urged her to accept since she had no one with her.

"Take care, Ruth. Don't worry, he's Emerson's personal bodyguard," I whispered, and she nodded and hugged me.

I smiled until the car drove away.

When I turned back, my smile vanished. I was so annoyed by what he said-it was so off-topic. Doesn't he have common sense? He's smart, so why is he like this?

In my frustration, I pointed my finger at his chest.

"I don't remember us being together or getting engaged! I don't remember anything!" I demanded.

He took hold of my hand, which was pointing at him. With the breeze, the snug fit of my outfit, and the yellow light illuminating half of his face like an angel, he laughed teasingly and suddenly draped his coat over my shoulders before I even noticed, too focused on staring at him.

He hugged me tightly. "I don't want you to be labeled as a mistress if this gets out to the media," he said coldly.

Two days passed. My name became known even in our barangay. I was the talk of the town. After what happened the other day, the unexpected video spread, despite Emerson's security thinking the incident would remain silent. But those who weren't silenced voiced their various reactions.

Mama heard the rumors, but she didn't interfere or ask questions. However, one day, she slapped someone. We were at the market buying groceries when someone suddenly said I was a mistress.

"You don't even have a ring!"

A vendor behind us, whom I was supposed to buy vegetables from, but now I'd rather not, given her attitude.

An old woman in front of us was silent. She just smiled at me and took the money.

"There was news that she got engaged, but now with this video going around, she looks more like a mistress," a woman whispered.

I tried to stop Mama from reacting. I smiled at the vendor and held Mama's hand.

"Thank you!" I cheerfully said to the old woman.

"How bold of her, using her body to seduce the President!" one vendor shouted.

"She's not even ashamed of her family. What will her siblings think? They might follow in her footsteps because of her behavior," another vendor added, making me search for the one who spoke. I faced her.

I calmly spoke to her. Mama followed and rubbed my back.

I smirked. "Aling Miling, how many times have you been penalized for being such a gossip? So what if I'm a mistress? So what if I used my body? Are you jealous because you can't attract our President?" I said confidently, crossing my arms.

Aling Miling laughed like a witch. "Look at yourself. You're dirt poor, yet you dream of reaching the heavens. Know your place; you don't belong in the President's world, Navida," she sneered again.

Mama slapped her hard. She was about to speak, but Mama slapped her other cheek. I was shocked by what Mama did. I glanced to the side and saw others were

To Be Continued...