PREGNANT WITH THE COLD CEO'S BABY

I lost everything when I was ten. My parents, my home, my sense of safety, and whatever was left of my childhood.

But then again... life was never fair.

Not to people like me.

* * *

The atmosphere in the restroom was tense and it felt like the air in my chest was punched out as I stared at the pink lines in the pregnancy test strip in my hands.

"How did... how did this happen?"

I asked myself, but no answer came. My legs gave way, and I sank onto the closed toilet seat, the pregnancy test still clutched in my fingers. The restroom suddenly felt like a prison.

I'd convinced myself before that it was just stress. The late shifts at the grocery store, the constant worry about tuition fees.. all of it could explain a missed period.

But deep down, I knew.

The nausea that hit me every morning, the exhaustion that sleep couldn't cure, and the way my body felt different. It was something I did not want to just speak of..

"Think, Kaira. Think." I tried to recall how it happened but couldn't get anything.

Everything blurred together.

After trying harder, searching deeply, fragments of that night came at the edges of my memory.

A deep voice, the scent of expensive cologne, soothe hands that knew exactly how to touch me...

But his face... his face remained frustratingly out of reach, lost in a haze I couldn't penetrate.

The pregnancy test slipped from my numb fingers, clattering against the bathroom tiles. The sound seemed to echo through the thin walls, and I held my breath, waiting to see if anyone had heard.

The last thing I needed was questions I couldn't answer.

* * *

A week later, the morning sickness hit hard. I was scrubbing the kitchen floor when my stomach lurched violently. The smell of the cleaning solution, which had never bothered me before, suddenly became overwhelming.

I pressed my hand to my mouth, fighting the wave of nausea, but it was useless. My stomach contracted painfully.

"Kaira? What's wrong with you?"

Tonia's voice cut through my misery. My cousin stood in the kitchen doorway, her dark eyes were sharp with curiosity. She'd been watching me all week, waiting for something like this...

I tried to speak, to deflect with some excuse about bad food and a stomach ache, but another wave hit me harder. I clamped my hand over my mouth and rushed toward the restroom, my bare feet slipping on the wet floor.

Behind me, I heard Tonia's delighted gasp.

The restroom door slammed shut just as my stomach emptied itself into the toilet bowl. Each throw felt like my body was betraying me, confirming what I'd been desperately trying to deny.

When I finally emerged, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, Tonia was waiting. Her lips curved in a knowing smirk that made my blood run cold.

"You're pregnant, aren't you?" She said, curtly.

"Oh my God, Kaira, you're really pregnant!" She chortled.

"I'm not.." I started, but the lie died on my lips as another wave of nausea threatened.

"When was your last period?" Tonia's voice grew louder, more excited.

"Come on, tell me! How long have you been hiding this?"

"Tonia, please, I.."

"MOM!" Tonia's voice rang through the house.

"MOM. COME QUICKLY!"

My heart sank as footsteps emerged from different parts of the house. Tony emerged from his study, book still in hand. Aunt Martha rushed from the bedroom, her hair still in curlers.

"What the hell is all this noise about?" Aunt Martha demanded, her sharp eyes taking in my pale face and Tonia's gleeful expression.

"Kaira's pregnant!" Tonia announced.

"She's been throwing up, and I bet she's missed her period too. Right, Kaira?"

The silence that followed was deafening.

I watched my aunt's face transform from confusion to rage in the span of seconds.

Tony's book crumpled in his grip.

"Is this true?" Aunt Martha's voice was quiet.

I opened my mouth, but no words came. The weight of their stares crushed down on me.

"Answer me!"

The slap came so fast I didn't see it coming. Pain exploded across my cheek, and the force sent me stumbling backward. My hip hit the edge of the kitchen counter, and I crumpled to the floor, my hand pressed to my burning face.

"How dare you!" Aunt Martha loomed over me, her face filled with fury.

"How dare you bring this shame into our house! After everything we've done for you, this is how you repay us?"

"I'm sorry, I..." I started, but she cut me off.

The tears I had been holding back threatened to fall.

"Get up. We're going to go confirm this. Now!"

* * *

Damien James stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, thirty stories above the city. The morning sun cast long shadows across the floor. His reflection stared back at him-cold, distant, untouchable.

"You asked for me, sir."

His secretary's voice barely penetrated his thoughts.

"Get the car ready." He said, without turning around.

"Yes, sir."

The soft click of expensive shoes retreated across the marble floor, leaving Damien alone. He pressed his palm against the cool glass, watching the tiny figures move like ants on the streets below.

Then a flash of memory hit him so suddenly that it made him inhale sharply. A woman's laugh, soft and genuine. Warm brown eyes looked up at him. The taste of her lips...

"Who is she?"

The memory vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving him with nothing but questions.

Damien straightened his tie and turned away from the window.

But as he walked toward the elevator, her laugh echoed in his mind once more.

* * *

The hospital's fluorescent lights were harsh. I sat on the examination table, my legs dangling like a child's, while Dr. Martinez reviewed my test results.

"Congratulations," she said with warmth.

"You're approximately four weeks pregnant. Everything looks normal so far." She added.

Tonia, sitting beside me, glared at me, let out a smirk, and then cursed under her breath.

"She's doomed," Tonia said.

"Four weeks ago, as a bartender, I..I.." I tried to think.

The rest was still a blur.

Outside in the hospital corridor, Aunt Martha's voice was heard despite the closed door. She was already on the phone with someone, and her tone was sharp with anger.

Soon, we went to her after she was done making her calls.

She was waiting with her arms crossed and rage-filled in her eyes.

"Who is responsible for this?" The words came out curtly.

I stared at the floor, my hands trembling.

"I... I... I don't know who..." I stuttered.

"What?" Tonia's voice was shrill with disbelief.

"You don't know?" Tonia asked.

The shame burned hotter than the slap had.

"I do not remember..."

"You're pregnant," Aunt Martha said, in a cold voice.

"And you don't even remember who is responsible?"

* * *

The car ride home felt thick. I sat in the backseat, near the window, staring out as familiar streets blurred past.

Aunt Martha was the one driving the car, and Tonia sat closer to her in the front seat. I was always shouted at for accepting a free ride from them. Why would they ride someone like me, even sitting comfortably? I was denied the time to learn to drive. Tonia always reminds me of my wretched life, there is no need to learn it since I would never be able to own a car of my own. I was always forced to bow respectfully to thank them after a successful ride with them. Though it's rare, except for an important matter like this one.

Aunt Martha's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, her jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitching. Tonia kept shooting glances at me through the rearview mirror, her eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction.

When we pulled into the driveway of our home, I bowed to both of them, thanking them for the ride.

I was ignored.

The silence was deafening, followed by heavy glares from both of them.

"That thing inside you," Aunt Martha spat as soon as we crossed the threshold,

"It's getting removed tomorrow."

The words hit me hard. I pressed my back against the closed door, my hands instinctively moving to my still-flat stomach.

"The only reason it's still there is because your uncle isn't home yet. He wanted to see for himself." Her voice dripped with disgust.

"Though God knows why he'd want to waste time.When there is an obvious solution to this abomination."

"You're a disgrace," she continued, her voice rising.

"A worthless, shameful girl who couldn't keep her legs closed. What kind of decent woman doesn't even remember who she spread them for?"

"Tell me again," Aunt Martha stepped closer, her breath hot against my face.

"Who did this to you? Were you raped? Because that's the only way I can even begin to understand how my own niece could be so... filthy."

I closed my eyes, desperately searching my fragmented memories. The flashes came in pieces. A voice asking if I was sure, waiting for my breathless "yes."

"Answer me, Kaira!" Aunt Martha's voice cut through the living room.

Tonia leaned forward from the couch, her eyes bright with malicious curiosity.

"Come on, Kaira. Tell us all about your little adventure. Was he at least rich? Or did you throw yourself away on some nobody?"

"I..." The word stuck in my throat.

If I tell them it wasn't rape, that I was willing... it will only make things worse. They'll call me a whore, a slut who deserved everything coming to her. It's better to stay quiet, to endure this until...

"I'm not sure," I finally said, hating myself for the cowardice in my voice.

"Not sure?" Tonia's voice was filled with disbelief.

"Mom, can you hear her? She's 'not sure' if she was even raped."

"I'm sorry," I murmured, the words barely audible.

But Aunt Martha's rage had moved beyond words. Her face was flushed deep red, her hands shaking with fury.

"Tonia," she called.

"Go to the kitchen. Bring me something to teach this little slut a lesson with. My hand is too good for her, and I don't want to dirty it on such a disgusting being."

Terror shot through me...

"Please, Aunt Martha, I.." I was cut off as soon as I started to beg.

"Now, Tonia!"

Tonia bounced off the couch, her excitement was palpable. She returned moments later with a mop stick, having yanked off the fabric head.

"Perfect," Aunt Martha said, testing the weight of the wooden handle in her hands.

The first blow caught me across the shoulders, sending me stumbling forward. The second hit my back, and I cried out despite trying to stay silent. By the third strike, I was on my knees, my arms wrapped protectively around my middle.

"Look at her," Tonia jeered, her voice bright with cruel laughter.

"A bastard protecting her bastard baby. How touching."

The hits kept coming..

I've become a punching bag in this house. Even at my age, even after everything I've done for them. And now I've given them even more reason to continue. If I don't stop this now, when will I ever? Especially with Tonia enjoying every second of my pain.

It angers me, hurting..

I raised my head to glare at Tonia, and our eyes met. She smirked and gave a little wave.

And just then..

"Please stop this, Mom!"

Tony's voice cut through the air. He stood in the doorway, his face pale but determined. He stepped between me and his mother, his arms spread wide.

"Out of my way, Tony." Aunt Martha warned angrily.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mom. Not until you let her be."

The living room fell silent except for my ragged breathing. Tony had never stood up to his mother before. He'd always been kind to me in small ways like slipping me extra food when the others weren't looking, helping with chores when I was exhausted from work, but he'd never openly defied his family.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tonia growled, stepping forward to push her brother aside. But Tony was stronger, and when he pushed back, she tumbled to the floor.

"You pushed your sister because of Kaira?" Aunt Martha screamed at him.

"Your twin sister? When did that start?"

Tony glanced at Tonia, who was glaring at me with pure hatred from her position on the carpet. But he did not apologize.

"Mom, she's human like us. Take a break, please?" His voice was quiet but firm.

"She's someone's child too. Your sister's child."

Aunt Martha stared at Tony as if he'd grown a second head to talk back at her.

"What..?" She muttered in surprise.

Tony helped me to my feet, his touch was gentle despite the tension crackling around us.

"Come on," he murmured, guiding me toward my room.

After I was escorted to my room, Tony left soon. The shouting erupted. Aunt Martha's voice, Tonia's accusations, Tony's quieter but no less determined responses. The words blurred together into a mix of rage and disappointment.

* * *

Miles across the city, Damian James stood outside the door of a private hospital room, his hand hovering over the handle.

"Wait outside," he told his secretary.

The chairman's eyes opened as Damian stepped into the room.

"Dad, I'm here," Damian said, in a calm voice.

"Damian." The name came out rough, followed by a cough that shook the chairman's entire frame.

"Have you thought about it? You're here because of it, right?"

Damian said nothing, but his silence was answer enough.

"She's beautiful," The chairman continued, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Sarah's family has excellent connections, it would benefit both companies."

The words hung in the air between them. Damian let out a slow breath.

"Is that your only reason, Dad? because of the company?" Damien said.

"I thought you wanted me to have a family of my own." He added.

"You are right. I just want you to be married, can't wait to have a grandchild, and for the future of our company." The chairman replied.

"Bring her home. I know there's someone right?" The chairman asked, curiously.

"I'm sorry, Dad. Please give me more time to think about it."

"When?" The chairman blurted out.

"Until I'm dead? Will you only get married then? You're the heir, Damian. I don't have much time left!"

He struggled to sit up straighter, his eyes boring into Damien's face.

"What about an heir? You need to produce the next generation. Start with marriage, for God's sake."

"Sarah... don't you like her? You two have been close since childhood."

Damien's jaw tightened almost unnoticed.

"Dad. I'll take care of this soon. Give me some time." Damian replied.

"You have a month, or I will do things my way." The chairman warned.

Damian stood to leave, bowing slightly to the chairman before heading out.

Suddenly, the memory came again, clearer this time.

His expression was perplexed.

* * *

The shouting continued beyond the door. I sat on the edge of my bed, my body aching from the beating, my mind racing with possibilities and fears.

Through the walls, I could hear Tonia's voice rising above the others.

"Are we just going to leave her in there resting? Just because Tony said so? While we wait for Dad, she should go to the grocery store and get something for lunch."

"There's food in the house," Tony said, in a weary voice but still defensive.

"There isn't!" Tonia retorted. Her lie was so obvious.

"She should go get something for us!" She added, loudly.

"How could she, in her condition..."

"Her condition be damn!" Tonia interrupted. Her voice filled with rage, my hatred.

"Let me finish..." Tony started, but got interrupted soon.

"Tonia is right." Aunt Martha's voice cut through Tony's protest.

"How dare she rest after everything she's put us through?"

"Go get her, Tonia."

"Wait," Tony stopped her quickly.

"I'll get her." He said.

"You better!" Tonia replied.

I heard footsteps approaching my door and felt something shift inside me.

A growing determination.

"Yes. Before Uncle comes back, I should escape. I should run from this hell." I thought to myself, my heart pounding with a mixture of terror and hope.

* * *

The soft knock on my door came exactly as I'd expected.

"Kaira? I'm coming in," Tony said.

I quickly composed myself. When Tony entered, his face was filled with the same pity I'd grown accustomed to seeing from him.

"Are you... Okay?" He asked, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I'm fine," I said, forcing a weak smile.

"Thank you for what you did out there. You didn't have to..."

"Why not?" His interruption came quickly and intensely.

"I should have stepped up sooner, then it might not have turned out this way. I'm sorry, Kaira. I'm so sorry for all of this. It's my fault." Tonia added.

"You are someone special.. and I.. I let them continuously hurt you for so long. I was a fool.."

The genuine remorse in his voice made my throat tighten. I looked away, afraid I might cry.

"And now, they want you to go to the grocery store," he continued, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

"I know it's not fair, I.. let me go with you.. "

"No. You don't have to. I'll be fine, brother." The word slipped out naturally.

But Tony's face crumpled at the word. He made a small clicking sound with his teeth, a nervous habit I'd noticed whenever I called him brother, but I never understood why. He prefers I call him by his name.

The sadness in his eyes deepened, and I wondered what memory I'd triggered.

He let out a deep breath, his head facing downward,

"Please forgive me. My cowardice ends today." He said, intensely.

I replied with a nod and stood to leave, but his hand caught mine.

"Wait. I'll be right back." He said.

"But.." I was cut off as soon as I started talking.

"I've got you," he said simply, and disappeared from the room.

He returned minutes later with a tube of pain relief gel.

"Thank you," I breathed, accepting the tube with trembling fingers.

I began applying it to the visible bruises on my arms, but when I tried to reach the spots on my back, Tony stepped forward.

"Let me." He said.

I hesitated before slowly lifting the back of my shirt, exposing the red welts left by the mop handle. His intake of breath was sharp, pained.

"Ouch!" The exclamation escaped before I could stop it as the gel touched a particularly tender spot.

"Sorry, sorry," he murmured, his touch becoming even gentler.

"I'll be more careful."

His hands were steady as they worked, applying the medicine carefully. When he finished with my back, he guided me to sit on the bed again.

"I'm not finished yet." He said.

"Is there more?" I asked.

"Your face. Some parts are swollen." He replied.

My fingers moved to my cheek, finding the tender spots I'd somehow missed.

As Tony began applying the gel to my face, his movements slowed. His eyes grew distant, and his hand lingered on my cheek with a gentleness...

"Tony?" I called softly.

No response. His thumb traced the curve of my cheekbone as if he were memorizing it.

"Tony?"

Still nothing. His breathing had changed, and there was something in his expression I couldn't quite read..

"Brother!" I said more firmly.

He blinked, startled back to the present.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I was..." He pulled his hand away abruptly, color rising in his cheeks.

"I'm done." He finally said, calmly.

I stood to leave, genuinely grateful.

"Thank you," I said.

His hand caught mine again, holding me in place with surprising strength.

"What are you doing? They're waiting outside. I'll only complicate things if I don't leave now, Tony."

"I know. But, Kaira..." He paused, struggling with words that seemed too heavy for his tongue.

"I-I.." He stuttered.

"Is it really true that you don't remember anything about it?" He asked.

Before I could answer, he continued,

"No, it's a good thing you don't remember him." He said.

"I'll come with you, Kaira. Let's go to the hospital before Dad's return. Let's abort the baby." He said, in a serious tone.

The betrayal hit me.

"Even you?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them, carrying all the hurt and disappointment of discovering that my last ally had joined them.

"Let go of my hand," I said weakly.

He released me just as weakly, and I walked away from him, feeling more alone than I ever had...

* * *

Inside the car, Damien James stared out the tinted windows as the city blurred past. The conversation with his father replayed in his mind, but it was overshadowed by the growing clarity of that night.

"Take me to the sketch artist downtown," he told his secretary.

Soon, they arrived there. The artist asked detailed questions as her pencil moved across the paper. Eye shape, nose, the curve of lips, the way her hair had fallen across her shoulders..

"Yes, this is it. I think." Damien studied the finished portrait.

He handed the portrait to his secretary. "Find her. Everywhere and anywhere. She must be found, no matter what it takes."

The secretary bowed slightly.

"Yes, sir. Any particular place you have in mind?"

Damien paused.

"Check the bars first. The Meridian, The Glass House, places like that." He said, unsure.

As his secretary left with the portrait, Damien settled back into his car.

"Dad, just a little more time. You'll get what you want. The marriage.. but not with Sarah." He said, inwardly.

* * *

The neighborhood felt different as I stepped outside to go to the grocery store. Eyes followed me from different directions.

"Tonia. She's done her specialty again." I said, inwardly.

Tonia had always been gifted at spreading gossip, turning small truths into dramatic scandals. Just in for my downfall.

Mrs. Chen, who lived three houses down, deliberately stuck her foot out as I passed. I stumbled, my hands scraping against the floor as I caught myself.

"Oops," she said.

"How clumsy. I'm sorry." She added, faking an apology before leaving.

Before I could get up, two girls from high school approached me. Both were younger sisters of Tonia's friend

"Look who it is," the taller one sneered.

"The neighborhood's newest prostitute." She added.

"I heard she doesn't even know who the father is," her friend said, mockingly.

The familiar shame began to rise in my throat. Together with anger that burned away the self-pity I'd been drowning in.

"So what?" I stood up, brushing dirt from my hands.

"Why do you even care when you're not the one carrying the baby?"

The taller girl's eyes widened with surprise.

"Look at her, raising her voice at us. Do you think you're special because you have a bastard inside you? You should be ashamed!" She said, in a bit louder voice.

"A bitch carrying a bastard," her friend chimed in with a cruel laugh.

"How ridiculous." How ridiculous.

The word hit me like a slap, but instead of crumbling, I stood up.

"I advise you girls to leave. Now." I said, firmly.

"Or what?" They retorted with a scoff.

"People will always believe a lie," I said, my voice steady despite the fury coursing through me, "because they want it to be true or are afraid it might be true," I added, letting out a short smile.

"People who get swayed by gossip don't care about the truth anyway."

I dusted off my clothes and walked past them, deliberately bumping the second girl's shoulder hard enough to make her stumble.

They stood there with their mouths open, shocked by this version of me they'd never seen before.

"My baby did nothing wrong," I said to myself, inwardly as I walked away with my head held high.

"He isn't even born yet, and he's already being treated like this. No matter what happens, I won't let my child see me broken. I won't let him be treated the way I've been treated." I added.

The grocery store was just across the main street now. Lost in thought, about how my future had turned, I stepped off the curb without looking.

The screech of brakes and the blare of a horn pierced the air. I looked up to see a black sedan bearing down on me, the driver's eyes wide with panic behind the windshield.

Time slowed. I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stare at the approaching car.

Then something slammed into me from the side...

Strong arms wrapped around me as we both tumbled away from the car, rolling across the rough asphalt in a tangle of limbs.

The sedan squealed past, missing us by inches.

I lay there gasping, my rescuer's weight pinning me to the ground. When I finally looked up, I found myself staring into familiar eyes.

"Are you hurt?" he gasped, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead where he'd hit the pavement. His eyes were filled with concern.

"Oliver James?"

* * *