The Devil's Bride (Megan's Story)

Megan's POV

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. You can no longer bear a child," the doctor announced, adjusting his glasses on his pointed nostrils.

My heart slammed against my rib cage, my breathing hitching. His words echoed in my head, my lips trembling. It couldn't be possible. There was no way I was barren. Richard and I had longed to have a baby, and this? This wasn't expected.

I tried to piece the fragments of the words the doctor said, but it made no sense. None of the words he said did. Sweat trickled down my temples. I tried to speak, but the words got stuck in my throat.

"Doctor, I think something's wrong with the report. I can't be barren," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

My vision blurred, and I fought hard to restrain the tears that threatened to escape. The beeping of the machines was muffled in my ears; all I could hear was the loud beating of my heart.

"There's nothing we can do, ma'am. Your womb has been destroyed, and you can no longer conceive," he said with a tone of finality, a sigh escaping his lips.

"But you are free to adopt a baby. You see, all hope isn't lost," he said reassuringly.

I slipped from my chair, my knee hitting the polished marble floor, tears flushing down my cheeks relentlessly. This was hell. Of course, his reassuring words wouldn't numb the pain I felt in my chest. Nothing would.

My gaze averted to Richard. He looked cold, his brow slightly lifted as if he'd seen it coming. He'd accused me of infidelity, and this was evidence. I wouldn't dare cheat on him; never thought of that. I extended my hand, and he shot me a glare, rising to his feet.

"We should be on our way now. Thank you," he said, maintaining a calm demeanor, which was unnerving. He shook the doctor's hand before walking out of the room, not even stealing a glance at my writhing form.

I swallowed hard, unsure if it was my sanity. I picked up the little shame left in me and stood on my feet. I could hear the doctor's voice in the background, but it was useless. I felt hopeless.

After everything Richard had done for me, this was the best way to repay him? I knew damn well how bad he wanted an heir.

"Richard," I called, forcing my way out of the crowded hospital. I tried to keep up with his pace, but he was fast. He walked to the parking lot and slipped into the driver's seat, patiently waiting for me to join him. At least he didn't leave me behind.

His grip tightened around the steering wheel, his jaw clenching as he zoomed out of the hospital. I stared at him, straightening my position. My breathing was shallow, coming in short, haggard gasps.

"I won't have a son," he muttered to himself, a humorless laugh escaping his lips.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I dried them up quickly. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, fighting hard to steady my breathing.

"I... I'm sorry," my words faltered.

"Sorry?" he asked rhetorically, his tone sharp. He was livid. "Like sorry could fix anything?"

"I sheltered you, made you who you are, and all you did to pay back all the good I've done is to be barren?" he accused bitterly.

My body wracked with sobs, my shoulders shrugging. I could feel the emptiness simmering beneath the fear of the unknown. I couldn't even look at him.

He pulled up at our apartment and walked out of the car, slamming the door. My palms were clammy, and I gripped the hem of my dress, beckoning it to suck away my fear. I pinched myself, praying, begging this bitter reality to be turned into a dream.

The mansion loomed in front of the car, a testament to our hard work. Richard had picked me off the street after I ran away from the orphanage. Predictably, he didn't do it for charity.

"The deal is simple: I'll pick you off the street, and in return, you'll be my bride," he'd said, inching closer to me.

The coldness of the night had seeped into my bones that night, and my teeth were clattering, slamming into each other. I didn't just see a man; I had seen my salvation out of the miserable slums of Washington.

"Why do you want to help me?" I'd asked weakly, my arms wrapping around my pale body.

He'd scoffed, straightening the cowboy hat on his head, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"You look like a promising young lady, and I want to help you. Plus, I'm in love with you," he confessed.

He'd lied.

Without a second thought, I agreed. He brought me into his home, and with time, I got to understand I was just a pawn. He needed a bride, a responsibility so that he'd sign a partnership deal with an international company. He got one.

I forgave him. We'd spent the rest of our life happily until this news.

I dried the last tears that streamed down my eyes and walked out of the car. I'll have to fix things; I was willing to give everything I've got just to give him an heir.

My heels echoed off the polished marble floor, the scent of well-trimmed roses wafting through the air. My gaze caught up with him. He was seated on the couch, feeding his eyes with the contents of the internet.

"Food is ready," I said calmly, forcing a smile that didn't reach my eyes.

He stood abruptly, dragging his feet out of the sitting room. I disgusted him.

"Richard?" I called, my voice cracking, barely above a whisper.

He didn't stop. He moved over to his black sleek car and zoomed off. He had turned cold toward me.

A sharp sting was felt in my eyes. My cheeks reddened, my lips quivering. I took a deep inhale and a slow exhale. Maybe with time, he'll have to adjust to what fate throws at us.

The day passed by in a blur, and it was midnight. Richard wasn't home. I dialed his number, but all I got was a voicemail.

"Where the fuck are you, Richard?" I muttered beneath my breath, pacing back and forth. I was sick with worry. Maybe he had gone to a party to drown out the mind-wrecking news.

The screeching of his car dragged me out of my haze. I felt excitement clawing at the edge of my heart. He was back. I wouldn't dare throw tantrums at him because he was late. He deserved a break; everyone does, especially after hearing this devastating news.

I bolted downstairs to welcome him, my hands spread out wide, but the sight I met halted me right in my tracks, my eyes widening in disbelief.

The lipstick stain was bold and vivid, a deep crimson smeared across the white crisp of his collar. Beside him stood a mistress, wrapped in a fur coat that draped elegantly over her shoulders.

"This is your replacement, Megan. I want you out of my life... at least she can give me an heir," he mumbled, dragging her closer to him. Their lips molded together, and she kissed him fervently.

My jaw practically hit the floor, my posture stiffening. This wasn't happening. I blinked twice, but the truth was far from being covered.

"R... Richard?" I called, still staring at him.

He didn't flinch, didn't even act like I mattered anymore. I watched my world tilt around. This betrayal was vile; perhaps it was a consequence of my barrenness.

"I'll be merciful enough to let you stay tonight. You'll leave tomorrow morning. I can't pay rent for a barren woman," he hissed coldly, walking out of the sitting room with my replacement.

He slammed the door behind them, and I collapsed on the floor. I had lost everything I fought for.

I picked up the remaining shame I had left and walked out of his life.

The snapping of Maya's fingers dragged me back to reality. I was at it again-zoning out.

"You okay, Megan?" she asked, raising her brow. I forced a fake smile to convince her that everything was perfectly normal, but she maintained a stoic expression.

"That ain't fooling me," she said, folding her arms.

I let out an exasperated sigh, my face drawn.

"Look, forget about him and move on."

Right, that's what they all say. Ever since I left Richard, I felt like I wasn't whole. Moving on was difficult, and I don't see myself doing it soon.

She read the lines on my face, tilting my chin high, her eyes piercing into mine.

"You need a fresh start, Megan," she said softly, a smile tugging at the side of her lips. "Twilight Hotel. 5 pm tonight," she announced, walking away to attend to the patrons.

I wasn't the kind of person who loved going to parties on a Friday night, but today was going to be an exception.

Maybe I needed a fresh start... so I thought.

Alexander's Point of View

The room was silent, occasionally punctuated by my father's unnerving voice. My grip tightened around the phone, my jaw clenched. He was at it again, and he wasn't going to stop either. It didn't matter to him that this was six a.m. in the morning; he never ceased to throw his tantrum each time he woke up.

"Father, I know all this. I'm trying to piece myself together. Sooner or later, I'll get a-"

He cut me off immediately, his pitch rising.

"You know nothing, Alex. You don't know how important a grandchild is to me. The Zeus firm needs an heir after you are gone," he yelled, his voice filled with indifference.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, adjusting my posture on the king-sized bed, my eyes scanning the open space of the room.

"But I'm not dying soon, Dad. We still have a lot of time. Besides, our company got international recognition," I said softly, a contrast to what I felt.

"Get me a grandson. I don't want to continue this conversation," he said, his voice dropping an octave before he hung up.

My lips parted, a sigh escaping through them. It was obvious that he wouldn't stop bugging me about this topic anytime soon. He wasn't even excited that I was achieving a lot of things-all he was interested in was getting a fucking bride.

"Dad issues, huh?" Wendy, the service girl I hired, said in the background. I'd forgotten she was still in the room.

Before I could mutter a word, she rolled over to me, her hand massaging my chest. I felt her warm breath brushing across my skin, her teeth playfully digging into my earlobe.

"Shouldn't you be leaving?" I asked, my posture stiffening.

She flinched, taken aback by the harshness of my voice. She didn't expect it-neither did I.

"Alex..."

"Leave," I said, my tone laced with seriousness.

I needed a serene environment to process my father's words. I was returning to New York this morning, and God help me, I didn't have the energy to stand my dad. I'd been in Miami for the past few months, expanding the company to other parts of the country.

I watched her pick up her clothes, glaring at me before walking out of the room.

The gentle knocking on my door stole my attention for a brief moment. I stared at the door for a while before I spoke calmly,

"Who's there?"

"Sir, your flight is ready," a feminine voice said. I didn't need to second-guess before realizing it was my secretary. I'd told her to prepare for my arrival.

I walked to the bathroom, the cold water running down my spine, washing away the sweat lingering on my body. After I was done taking my bath, I walked to the wardrobe, settling for a crisp navy suit before heading to the airport.

The plane took off, and I shut my eyes, savoring the calmness of the ride. After what felt like eternity, the plane landed on the tarred floor. My secretary and I walked into the sleek black car waiting for me, and it zoomed into the streets of New York.

The cheering of the staff as I walked through the transparent glass doors filled the air. I maintained my stoic expression, my eyes taking note of their faces. Of course, I knew their expressions were forced, but I didn't care.

I rolled my eyes, stepping into the elevator, the doors slamming shut as it ascended slowly. After a while, it opened, and I walked into my office.

My office exuded quiet, deliberate opulence. A handwoven rug softened the marble floor beneath my feet. Everything about the office screamed wealth, a testament to my hard work. Still, all he cared about was some stupid grandchild. He was ungrateful. While other millionaire sons were a reproach to their fathers' names, I was exceptional, always taking this damn company to another level. The least he could do was thank me for being a remarkable son.

"Asshole," I growled, walking over to the dark desk.

Sitting at the desk, I started my day by attending to the numerous files on the table while sipping a hot, steamy chocolate coffee.

A few hours later, I was done. I glanced at the clock-it was a few minutes past six p.m. I was late... again. Going home wasn't in my budget. I needed to escape reality. Where else to go than a party?

I picked up my briefcase, striding gracefully out of the parking lot and into my car. The wind howled through the empty streets, the streetlights and houses passing by in a blur.

I clenched my jaw, exhaling slowly as I stepped into the club. The bass of the music thumped through my chest, the dim lights casting shadows across the sea of bodies swaying in drunken ecstasy. The familiar burn of whiskey slid down my throat, but even that couldn't drown out my father's voice.

My eyes fluttered open, and I saw her. She took different shots of alcohol, tears rolling down her face. She looked vulnerable, weak.

I rolled my eyes, trying so hard to mind my business, but my gaze kept snapping back to her. Staring at her made my anger vanish immediately, replaced by sympathy.

Before I could second-guess, my feet instinctively walked toward her. She raised the glass in the air to drink, and I stopped her, snatching it away.

"Give me back my drink!" she protested.

"That's enough, young lady. You have taken too much," I said, my voice firm.

She shot me a glare.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" she said, her voice trembling with sobs. "You're here to control me, just like they do?"

She stood up to take the drink but staggered, falling right into my arms.

A smirk tugged at the side of my lips. She couldn't even hold her own against me.

"Let's call it a night," I mumbled.

I walked to the receptionist and booked a suite to spend the night. Every action I took was a contrast to my personality, and I couldn't explain why.

Just as I was about to leave, I heard her voice.

"Stay with me," she begged.

I was torn between walking away and staying with her. With a resigned sigh, I chose to stay.

She clung to my body. I should have pushed her away, asked her to keep her hands to herself, but I found myself craving more of her... touch.

"You are drunk," I said calmly, trying to push her away from me. It'd be stupid to imagine that I took advantage of her when she was drunk.

But she didn't stop.

"I need you," she cried, pulling me back.

Before a word could escape my lips, her lips crashed into mine, her tongue wrestling for dominance in my mouth.

I was done resisting her body. Maybe this was the price for saving her tonight from the excessive shots she took. She wanted me, and I was determined to give her all of... me.

I grabbed her by her butt cheeks, my middle finger slowly sliding to her panties. I stripped off the thin straps of her clothes, dragging out my belt and tossing it to the other side of the room.

My dick sprang out of my pants, and I watched her gasp in shock, her eyes widening at the size. She grabbed my dick, sucking it like her life depended on it.

I shut my eyes, allowing her satisfy herself with her toy. After a while, I broke free from her, my fingers thrusting her.

"Fuck,"she moaned loudly, biting her lower lips, her pupils dilating. I maintained a certain rhythm and suddenly, I felt her muscles stiffen, her pussy walls tightening. She was about to squirt.

I paused. Her breath was forced and shallow, her chest heaving. I lifted her up in the air, her back roughly hitting the wall as I pushed my dick.

"Shit," she growled, her hand instinctively grabbing my short hair. She took in the length like a pro, her eyes locking with mine. My balls jiggled, the slippery sound her pussy made filling the air.

Exhausted, I laid beside her, drifting off to sleep.

The shrill beeping of the alarm filled the air, and I woke up with a start. My gaze wandered around the room, my head aching badly, a result of the whiskey I took last night.

I stumbled out of the bed, planting my feet on the floor. It took me a few seconds to know that she was gone, the lady I had a one night stand with. Worst of all, I had nutted in her, which meant one thing; she would be having my baby in her womb soon.

I paced back and forth, my knuckles whitening.

Just then, my gaze shifted to the night stand and I saw her ID. A wave of relief flushed over me as I walked over it, my brow raising a bit as I read the name,

"Megan woods."

Megan's point of view.

My mind kept wandering to that night, the night I made out with a stranger. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't erase that memory, despite pushing the thoughts away it stayed glued to my mind.

It was the only happy and sweet memory I had, and it haunted me whenever I was alone, it made my face lit, my teeth out and clean clenched, stopping the laughter from exploding.

I shouldn't have done that, what was I thinking? That thought would make my smile stop.

It's been a month, I knew I wasn't able to forget. Alcohol might have made my mind lost, dulling my senses but it couldn't erase the memory.

The way his nails traced my back, his warm breath hitting my skin, sending shivers down my spine, his breathy moans in my ear, the strength he used to pin me down, his control on my hands not letting my hands slip away under him, the aura he gave out, everything played in my head, too clear to forget, at least a happy memory.

I let out a shaky breath, tilting my neck to look at my reflection in the mirror.

My eyes were swollen, ringed with dark eye bags that told a sleepless night.

My skin looks paler than usual, it wasn't suiting my deep brown hair that laid freely on my shoulders.

I pressed my hands against my shoulders, my clothes feel tighter these days.

I felt bloated with my stomach growing,

" Megan, you're gaining weight, what's the secret?" my coworker asked, I raised my eyebrows,my neck tilted and my eyes narrowed with my heart pounding, her compliment was a punch on my guts.

I've been having subtle changes in my body at first, the tiredness wasn't something to worry about at least I assured myself about that.

I felt a movement in my stomach. I ran to the toilet, my hands on the toilet bowl and my mouth opened, throwing food in.

This wasn't the first vomit, it's been on occasion when I had bad foods, my head throbbed as I walked to clean my mouth, my legs were heavy with each step closer to the sink.

My stomach fluttered again, making me throw up again. I had to go for a check up. I can't ignore the signs of anyone, a part of me felt happy with the idea but my face became pale knowing it might be an internal sickness.

My phone buzzed on the table and I dragged my feet over to it, dragging it to the eye view. It was from the hospital.

"Doctor Jane," I whispered.

I'd gone to take a test and now, I was waiting for the good news. I'd suspected pregnancy, but snapped out of the thought when I remembered that I was barren.

"Is this Megan?" she called over the phone, his voice gruff.

"Yeah. Megan Woods," I replied calmly, sitting on the chair.

"You might want to come to the hospital, I've got news for you, the test result is out," she said in a professional tone.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, adjusting my posture on the couch.

"Okay, I'll be right there in a minute," I replied, a hint of skepticism in my voice. The line went dead and a deafening silence hung heavy in the air.

I slipped into a jacket, before walking out of my apartment and into a cab. My eyes were fixed on the mirror as the cars and buildings passed by in a blur, a few minutes later, I was at the hospital.

The smell of antiseptic filled the air sharp and clean, burning my nostrils with each breath, the light flickering slightly, casting a weird shadow over the waiting room.

My fingers were shaky, my fingers curling into a fist inside my jacket, I sat on the chair with stiff muscles, the chairs itched with every longing second, my heart hitting my chest hard to escape.

Seconds turned to minutes, I felt like I was there for hours before the doctor walked in returning with a thin paper on her hands.

I looked at her face trying to read through them but it was calm and unreadable, which made my breath hitch in my throat.

"You're pregnant, Ms. Megan."Her words thinned as they hit my eardrum, but it echoed.

"What?" My voice low, my breath, I wasn't even breathing at that moment, my eyes flared up, blood rushed to my brains, my head protruding out like it was going to fall.

"You're pregnant," she repeated, her tone gentle yet firm.

The world spinned around me. The walls seemed to close in around me, the weight of her words pressing down on my chest.

For years, Richard– my ex husband always told me I couldn't have children, saying I had a damaged womb which taunted me, giving me sleepless nights, the doctors had confirmed it, I had no chance and there wasn't even a probability I would have children, I lost all hope and now...this?

Tears fell from my pale face, blurring my vision, distorting the world around me into flickering streaks of light.

I wasn't sure if I was happy laughing with closed eyes, or they were paralyzed with fear, or both, my heart wrapped with new emotions made my breath become shaky as my hands drifted to my stomach, trying to feel the living human in my stomach.

I felt the soft fabric of my jacket t, I pressed slowly and gently as if I could actually feel the life growing inside me.

"Are you sure?" I said in a low voice, my voice barely more than a breath, each word catching in my tight throat, afraid that speaking the words aloud would somehow make them more real.

The doctor nodded. "We ran multiple tests. There's no mistake."

I swallowed hard, lubricating my dry throat, my fingers trembling.

My mind ran wild, flashing back to that night, to the stranger whose name I didn't even get bothered to ask. I knew exactly who the father was. One reckless night had changed. I wasn't barren and I could have my own child.

I left the hospital in a hurry. The cool night air hit my face, but I barely felt it.

The city's usual noise of honking cars, distant siren sounds and murmured conversation filled the air, I was used to it.

My steps felt weak with each step, shaking on the floor, my boots hitting against the pavement as I stepped into my house, I was lost in thought.

As soon as I stretched my legs into the kitchen, my legs felt warm, my hands moved, reaching for the coffee canister, the filter and the mug. I was used to the routine, making it seem like a robotic movement.

The rich aroma filled the air as the dark liquid poured into my cup, curling upward in swirls of steam.

However the moment I lifted it to my lips, a fast wave of nausea developed through me, it was unplanned and violent.

My stomach twisted, my intestines eating themselves, I barely managed to set the cup down before throwing it in the sink.

I turned on the faucet, watching the coffee swirl down the drain, its bitter scent lingering in my nose reminding me of the sudden hate I had for my everyday drink.

My fingers shaked as I held myself against the counter, pressing my palms into the cold, rough surface.

The rain outside hit the window hard, drumming on the roof above, that sound that aligned with the chaos brewing inside me.

I sucked in a deep shaky breath, my chest rising and falling.

I wasn't ready for this. My world had flipped upside down, and I had no control over where it would land. But as my hand unconsciously moved to my stomach, I felt a strange warmth on my palm.

This baby... this was a miracle.

A loud knock hit the door, suddenly shattering the silence and jolting me back to reality.

I shook, my heart hitting my chest. Who would be here by this hour?

Slow deliberate shivers traced down my spine, the kind that didn't fade but settled under my skin.

My fingers holding the door loosely, then tight, the wind outside roared, rattling the Window Panes with a force made the floor vibrate.

Rain raced down the glass in twisting patterns, wrapping the darkness in fear.

The handle was cold, and icy under my palms, penetrating my skin and my bones as I held the handle fighter.

My knuckles turning white, the tension coiling through my arm ready to snap, a breath escaped my lips, barely audible with the loud storm outside.

I pulled the door back, making it open, the cold night air rushed in, wrapping around my skin.

The lightning hit his face, a figure in the rain, standing tall and not moving, the lights flickered through the water catching the sharp angles of his jaw.

His eyes narrowed, with his jaw clenching tighter I could see the bones, his clothes were soaked, his hair fell in his forehead, he stood with his hands buried deep in his pockets.

My breath cut in my throat, my lungs struggling to take air through my nose as his voice hit my ears.

A slow smirk on his lips.

I couldn't move, the air between me felt suffocating, my fingers curled into a fist by my sides, my nails digging into my palms. This wasn't happening.

How did he find me? Why was he here now?

My heart hit hard on my chest, my chest tightened to keep it in place, the world around me blurred, my vision fixated on his face.

He stood tall towering over me, his eyes traced down my body, I followed the movement, his eyes was on my stomach

His face lifted to a wilder cringe smirk, his eyes narrowed, calculating, as if he had just confirmed something I wish he wouldn't suspect.

My blood became cold, turning to eyes chilling me from the inside.

His next words came out smooth, and deep.

" Hello, Megan."