The Billionaire's Pregnant Assistant

Kira's POV

The chilly night air bites at my skin as I stand across the entrance of Wolfe Enterprise, my heart pounding so loudly I'm almost certain someone else can hear it.

It is 9:50 p.m and I wait, impatiently tapping my feet on the ground. I'm hidden in the shadows, so I know the guards cannot see me.

At exactly 10 p.m. I see a beggar approaching the entrance, just as Malcolm arranged. The man's clothes are tattered, and his steps are unsteady. He starts yelling and throwing stones at the guards.

The guards shift their attention to him, their brows furrowed in annoyance. Two of them move towards him, while the third man who stays behind is still distracted by the scene. This is it-my chance. I walk hurriedly, my legs shaky as I slip through the door.

The lobby is dark, only the dim emergency lights are on, casting red shadows on the white floor. My boots click softly against the marble as I make my way to the elevator. I pass a sad glance around-the reception desk where I sign in every morning, the faint scent of floor cleaner. I will miss this place.

I make my way to my office, each step making my stomach churn. I finally reach the door, opening it with trembling hands. The room is quiet, the shadows from the emergency lights barely illuminating the space. I head to the closet without hesitation, yanking it open.

I pick out my work clothes and place them there, just the way I had packed them. I brought them here so I could slip into them first thing in the morning to make it look like everything was normal.

"Okay, that's done," I whisper to myself, my voice barely audible. My heart is pounding in my ears, and I take a shaky breath. "Now the documents."

I've rehearsed this part in my head a dozen times. Gavin keeps the documents in his penthouse, where he assumes no one will be able to get them. But thanks to Mr Wolfe–his father– I've been there before. I know my way around the whole place.

With my bag now lighter, I leave my office and make my way to the elevator. The hallways are empty, quiet, and the tension is almost unbearable. I press the button, my finger trembling as I wait for the doors to open.

Please, let this work. Please, let this be quick.

The elevator dings softly, and I step inside, pressing the button for the top floor. The ride up takes forever, every second ticking by, my thoughts growing louder. What if someone sees me? What if I get caught? What would Gavin do to me?

The ding from the elevator cuts through my thoughts. The doors open, and I step out into the penthouse floor. The familiar walls greet me, the tall glass walls which give an astonishing view of the city below.

It feels strange being here at night, and it is. I'm trespassing in a place I don't belong. My eyes dart around nervously, as if waiting to pounce on anything that comes out. I shake off the hesitation and move quickly.

I walk down the hall, straight past the living area, to the study where I know the cabinet lies. I had overheard Aaron saying the documents would be in there, right in the top drawer. My fingers tremble as I grip the handle, and I take a deep breath before opening it.

There they are, just like he said. Relief rushes through me, a bright smile appearing on my face. I reach for the documents, my fingers brushing against the folder.

Just as I pick them up, my leg kicks a flower vase which I hadn't noticed. It shatters with a loud clanking, making me wince.

You foolish girl, you're lucky there's nobody here. How clumsy can one person be?

I look down, seeing red soil all over the floor, shattered glass mixing with it. I cannot afford to leave any evidence behind. By the time Gavin realises the documents are gone, I should be out of this country.

I abandon the documents in their place and rush towards the cleaning closet on the other side. Quickly taking some materials, I rush back outside and clean up the ground and glass fragments carefully. Once the place looks good, I smile brightly at my swiftness and intelligence.

Now I can get what I came here for.

Suddenly, a noise cuts through the silence–a soft thud. Footsteps.

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. I stare at the documents, my mind screaming at me to hurry, to take them. But I can't risk it. If I take them and get caught, it's over. I hastily shove the folder back into the drawer, my hands trembling. I close the drawer.

My eyes dart to the small digital panel on the side of the cabinet-the code can only be used once in 24 hours. It means as I have closed the drawer now, I won't be able to open it again until tomorrow night. Damn it.

The regret hits me instantly–why didn't I just grab it? But it's too late now. Anytime I waste here will just increase my chances of getting caught. My pulse pounds in my ears as I hear the footsteps grow closer.

I glance around the study, my eyes landing on a door–a bathroom. Without a second thought, I rush towards it, slipping inside and quietly shutting the door behind me. I press my ear against the wood, straining to hear.

The footsteps are growing louder. I hold my breath, my heart racing. Who could be here at this hour?

Then I hear it clearer as it gets closer, a familiar voice, deep and angry.

Gavin Wolfe.

My blood runs cold.

He's here. In the penthouse. Why is he here?

Panic floods my mind, my hands shaking as I try to figure out a way to escape this. What do I do? What do I do?

Gavin's here. My boss whose documents I'm trying to steal is here. Oh shit.

Kira's POV

My eyes dart around the glamorous gold-themed bathroom, my hands trembling. There's a small brown door on the side. Sprinting toward it, I place my hand on the knob and slowly push it open, wincing as it creaks loudly. I glance inside, my mouth dropping wide open.

Why would there be two bathrooms in one? Rich people and their ridiculous spending habits.

I spot a small window and speed-walk toward it. I raise my hands to open it, but my fingertips barely graze the hard wood. Shit, what do I do? There's a small stool by the bathtub. My feet hasten toward it, carefully lifting it off the ground to avoid making any sound.

Standing on it, I assess the window and, with one strong push, it swings open. I close my eyes as the harsh cold air hits my face. When my skin adjusts to the chill, I open my eyes, peering outside. I facepalm as my gaze lands on the tiny lights from cars driving below. I totally forgot that I am on the 86th floor of a skyscraper.

A loud clanking erupts from the penthouse. My eyes widen.

Suddenly, a muffled voice starts singing. It sounds like Gavin is drunk. Wow.

"Never like I'll find someone better than you. I wish nothing but a bad thing for you, Livia!!" Not only are the words to Adele's "Someone Like You" completely different, but it also sounds like a goat crying. I close my ears to block out the sound.

Who is Livia? And what has she done to my grumpy boss? I wonder if he's okay.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swings open, and my eyes widen. Gavin stumbles in, swaying slightly as he moves toward the toilet. He's shirtless, and my eyes widen as they take in his sculptured chest connected to beautiful six-pack abs. Those abs lead down toward a smooth V-line disappearing into his trousers. Oh my goodness, he is hot.

"Nothinggg can telllls the worries of cares, you all that I hate the memories lost." His slurred voice continues singing as his hands work to unbuckle his belt. I feel the blood drain from my face as the clear realization of what he's about to do sinks in. Oh my innocence. I instinctively cover my eyes, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I can't believe I'm witnessing this.

As the sound of urinating fills the bathroom, I stand frozen, my heart pounding so loud the sound reaches my ears. A small voice urges me to take a peek, and I have to fight hard to resist that temptation. Finally, he finishes, and I inhale a deep breath, relieved that the awkward moment is over.

I wait for what feels like an eternity, praying he would just go to bed. When I finally hear the sound of water running from the shower, I make my escape, tiptoeing toward the door. Just as I reach for the knob, he calls out, "Livia?"

Shit. I freeze, knowing I've been caught. Slowly, I turn around, my heart racing. "Oh, you're not Livia," he says, his gaze lost. "But you're beautiful. I've never seen you before," he exclaims suddenly, the unexpected sound causing me to jump slightly.

Oh yes, you have, sir. And you even hate me.

I blink, momentarily taken aback by his drunken compliment. "Uh, I'm t-the c-cleaner," I stutter, taking advantage of his drunken state. "I always clean at this time." Please believe me.

His brow furrows as he scratches his head in confusion. "Cleaning now? I didn't know. I thought you were Livia."

My eyebrows knit together. Who the hell is Livia, and how do I look like her? "Livia? Who is that?"

"Livia Sinclair. She's the most famous lawyer, the best in the country. But she cheated on me," he says, his voice filled with bitterness. "Who knew people who know the law could cheat as well?"

I remain silent, my eyes taking in his sad state as he walks out of the bathroom and into the living room. "I couldn't stay at her place, so I drove here immediately," he adds, his gaze drifting as if he's picturing the scene he just witnessed.

What? He drove in this state? "You can't drive when you're drunk. How stupid could you be?" I say, my voice softening.

Gavin chuckles, shaking his head. "Hey, this is my best friend," he declares, raising a bottle of whiskey he somehow retrieved from the table. When did he do that? "Leave your job now. Let's drink!" he adds, gesturing toward the sofa.

There's no way I'm drinking with my boss. Not only that, but I can't handle even the smell of alcohol without feeling dizzy. "Sorry, sir, I came here to work so-"

"I'm offering you as your boss," he insists, still swaying slightly as he moves toward me and pulls me forward. "Come on! One glass, just one."

With a reluctant nod, I take the glass he offers. When I sniff it, the strong smell nearly knocks me out. But in a moment of weakness, I take a small sip, and then another, and another. Soon, I'm downing the contents of my glass. Malcolm will kill me if he sees this.

Gavin's gaze is on me, a small approving smile appearing on his face, and soon enough, we're both laughing, though I can't figure out what's funny. My head feels light, and my feet feel like I'm walking on air.

The room sways, and I stumble, losing my balance. I fall against him, and he struggles to catch me, but we both tumble to the floor. I am lying on him, his pounding heart beating against my palm. Suddenly, his hands start tugging at his trousers, failing miserably to get the belt.

"What are you doing?" I chuckle while he tries to glare at me.

"I want to take a shower," he slurs, looking at me with an expression that mixes mischief and desire. "Will you come with me?"

I find myself nodding, my head spinning as my hands find my trousers, pulling them down. Soon my shirt is gone, and I'm only in my underwear. I pass him a bright smile. "Sure. Let's go take a shower."

We both get up, and he stumbles, looking down at me, his eyes roaming over my body. "Wow," he says, his voice low.

"Like what you see?" I question, wiggling my eyebrows.

"You are so beautiful, let's go!" he says, pulling me toward the bathroom or bedroom. I can't see well, but I feel something soft and fluffy beneath me as he pushes me onto the bed.

Are beds in bathrooms? Or are bathrooms in beds? Laughter spills from my lips as the thought crosses my mind. He crosses his leg over me, straddling me, and his expression shifts to something more intense. The room spins around us, and just as I'm about to say something, his lips land on mine.

"Wait-" I start, but it comes out muffled. Well, I can enjoy myself for one night. The first and last time, I think as I give in to the feel of his lips against mine.

Kira's POV

I jolt awake, my heart racing as the soft light of dawn filters through the windows. My eyes widen as the realization of where I am hits me. Gavin's penthouse. Shit.

"Oh God, what have I done?" I think, my mind reeling with guilt.

Memories of last night flood back-getting caught, drinking, laughter, whiskey, and the warmth of Gavin's body against mine.

"How could I be so stupid? Malcolm trusted me, and I failed. He'll never forgive me."

I glance around, feeling a wave of shame wash over me. I cheated on Malcolm. With my boss. Who probably won't even remember. Although that'll be a good thing.

I gasp, pulling the soft fabric of the sheets down. I'm naked. Shit. I need to leave. I have to get out of here before anyone sees me. This is a disaster.

I scramble out of bed, almost falling flat on my face. I pick up my trousers and look around for my shirt. It's resting peacefully against the sofa.

Gosh, how could I let this happen?

Silently, I slip out of the bedroom and into the quiet hallway. My heart pounds as I press the elevator button, willing it to arrive faster.

The doors open, and I step inside, finally taking a deep breath, though my palms are still sweaty.

I hope Gavin doesn't remember my face, like I'll be in deeper shit. And I still have to face Malcolm. He'll be expecting me to bring the documents. Dang

The elevator's ding signals my arrival at the office floor.

As I rush out, I glance around wide-eyed, heaving a sigh of relief as the office is empty. Thank goodness.

"Please don't let anyone see me like this."

I sprint into the nearest bathroom, locking myself inside and splashing cold water on my face.

Looking in the mirror, my eyes widen at the sight of my skin. Dark red marks cover the side of my neck, disappearing into the shirt.

He gave me freaking love bites. That bastard.

After a quick shower and changing into my work clothes–which I hid in the closet, I step out of the bathroom, hearing the bustle of employees around.

It's office hours already, meaning Malcolm will be waiting for feedback. Oh shit. I'm so foolish.

How could I accept that drink from Gavin?

I should have left immediately. He was drunk and wouldn't have been able to do anything. I just had to drink as well, knowing my alcohol tolerance. As more workers arrive at the office, I make a quick decision: I need to get out of here.

I'll just take the day off and figure out how to deal with Malcolm later. I also have to avoid my boss.

I walk out of the building, not paying attention to my surroundings, and find myself at a nearby café. I step in line, ordering a hot cappuccino, the warmth of the cup comforting against my palm.

As I take a sip, savoring the taste, my mind doesn't rest. I'm pulled back to last night's events; I messed up a perfectly laid out plan because of my stupidity and lust. The coffee soon turns cold and bland in my mouth.

I get up, sending my hand under the table to pick up the bag with my clothes. My hand comes out empty. What the hell? I push my chair back and bend, glancing under the table to see if my leg pushed it further. It's not there. Wait a second, I don't think I came here with a bag.

Shit. The bag is still in the office.

I rush back to the office, my heart pounding as I enter the elevator. I tap my foot against the floor, feeling a bead of sweat trickling down my back.

The elevator ride seems to take forever, and every time it stops to let people in or out, I glare at the back of their heads.

Finally, it dings on the 85th floor, and the doors have hardly opened when I'm sprinting down the hallway toward the closet.

I quickly pick up the bag-which I had so stupidly left on the floor after getting changed-and turn on my heels to leave the office.

As I pass by the huge mahogany door of Gavin's office, the atmosphere shifts, and I feel my legs weaken beneath me, my breath hitching in my throat.

I hear his voice, icy and authoritative, bellowing insults and curses at employees.

"You're fired!" he barks, probably on the phone as I don't hear any other voices.

"Don't ever show your face here again!"

I wince at the harshness in his tone, my instincts screaming at me to escape.

"Ms. Lena!" he continues, voice dripping with rage. "If you can't meet deadlines, I have no use for you here!"

I need to get out of here before he sees me. I glance around, hoping to slip away, but just as I take a step toward the elevator, his office door swings open, banging loudly against the wall.

Damn it.

He strides out, his jaw clenched.

Our eyes lock, and I freeze.

"Ms. Ellington, my office. Now!" he commands, his voice low and dangerously calm.

My heart sinks. I stand frozen for a moment, then take a deep breath and turn to follow him, nerves swirling in my stomach.

What does he want? Does he know it's me? But he was drunk right, and Malcolm disabled the cameras. I trail behind Gavin, my eyes fixed on his broad back as he strides into his office.

The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I feel trapped.

Gavin walks to his desk, which is empty, as everything is on the floor, and turns around, his eyes blazing as he stares at me.

My pulse spikes, and I'm certain the man present can hear how loud my heart is beating.

He doesn't say anything for almost a minute, silently scrutinizing me instead.

The atmosphere is tense, and I can't wait to leave.

However, his next words add a thicker layer of tension in the air, making me freeze in my spot.

"Miss Ellington, what is in the bag?"

Shit.