His Betrayal Make Me Lost My Baby

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Leon had just denied knowing me, called me a stranger, suggested calling security. My chest felt hollow, like someone had carved out my heart with a rusty spoon.

Chloe's grip on my shoulder tightened, her perfectly manicured nails digging through the fabric of my dress. "Come on, sweetie," she cooed, her voice dripping with false concern. "Let's get you the help you clearly need."

Something inside me snapped. Three years of silence, three years of hiding, three years of being nothing more than a bank account with legs—it all crystallized into a moment of desperate clarity.

"I'm pregnant," I blurted out, the words tumbling from my lips before I could stop them. "I'm pregnant with Leon's baby."

The practice room fell silent. The constant clicking of keyboards stopped. Even the hum of the air conditioning seemed to pause. Six pairs of eyes turned toward me, and I watched as Leon's face went from dismissive boredom to something approaching panic.

"What did you just say?" Chloe's voice had lost all its sweetness, turning sharp as broken glass.

I lifted my chin, finding strength I didn't know I possessed. "You heard me. I'm carrying his child. We've been married for three years, and I'm ten weeks pregnant."

Leon shot to his feet so fast his gaming chair rolled backward and hit the wall. "That's insane," he said, but his voice cracked on the last word. "I don't even know this woman. She's clearly delusional."

"Am I?" I reached into my purse with trembling fingers, pulling out my phone. "Should I show them our marriage certificate? The one filed in Vegas three years ago? Or maybe the ultrasound photo from last week?"

Ryan had moved closer, his dark eyes studying my face with an intensity that made me feel exposed. There was something in his expression—recognition, maybe? But that was impossible. We'd never met.

"This is ridiculous," Leon said, but he was backing away from his computer, his usual confidence cracking. "Security needs to remove this crazy person before—"

"Before what?" I challenged, my voice growing stronger. "Before your fans find out you've been married this whole time? Before your sponsors learn you've been lying about your relationship status? Before Chloe realizes the ring she's wearing was bought with my money?"

Chloe's face had gone pale beneath her perfect makeup. The diamond on her finger seemed to burn in the overhead lights, and I watched as understanding dawned in her eyes. Not just understanding—fury.

"You little bitch," she hissed, all pretense of sweetness evaporating. "You think you can just waltz in here and destroy everything?"

"I'm not destroying anything," I said, surprised by how calm I sounded. "I'm just telling the truth."

"The truth?" Chloe's laugh was vicious. "The truth is that you're a pathetic, delusional stalker who's probably not even pregnant. You probably bought a fake ultrasound online, didn't you? God, the lengths some people will go to for attention."

She stepped closer, and I could smell her expensive perfume, see the rage burning behind her carefully applied mascara. "Do you have any idea what you're trying to ruin? Leon is going to be the face of esports. We're going to be the power couple that changes everything. And you—you're nothing. A nobody with daddy's money who thinks she can buy her way into relevance."

"Chloe," Ryan warned, his voice low and dangerous. "That's enough."

But she wasn't listening. Her attention was laser-focused on me, and I could see the calculation behind her fury. She'd realized exactly what I represented—not just a threat to her relationship, but to her entire carefully constructed future.

"You want to know what Leon really thinks of you?" she snarled, stepping so close I could feel her breath on my face. "He calls you his ATM girl. He laughs about how pathetic you are, how you throw money at him like a lovesick teenager. He told me you were so desperate for his attention that you'd probably pay for our wedding if he asked."

Each word was a knife, precisely aimed at the parts of me that hurt the most. But I held my ground, even as tears pricked my eyes.

"At least I'm not wearing a ring bought with someone else's money," I said quietly.

Chloe's face contorted with rage. "You sanctimonious little—"

She shoved me.

It happened so fast I barely had time to register the movement. One moment I was standing my ground, the next I was stumbling backward, my arms windmilling as I fought for balance. The thermos of soup flew from my hands, spinning through the air as I careened toward the staircase that led down to the main lobby.

Time seemed to slow as I fell. I caught a glimpse of Ryan lunging forward, his face twisted with alarm. Leon stood frozen at his gaming station, his mouth open in shock. And Chloe—Chloe watched with satisfaction as I tumbled down the concrete steps.

The first impact drove the air from my lungs. My shoulder hit the edge of a step, sending white-hot pain shooting through my body. The thermos shattered somewhere above me, soup and glass raining down as I continued to fall. My head cracked against the concrete, stars exploding behind my eyes.

I came to rest at the bottom of the staircase in a crumpled heap, the world spinning around me like a broken kaleidoscope. Warm liquid was spreading beneath me—soup, I thought at first, but the metallic taste in my mouth suggested otherwise.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs. Ryan's voice, sharp with command: "Call 911! Now!"

I tried to speak, to tell him I was okay, but only a weak moan escaped my lips. The pain in my abdomen was growing worse, a deep, cramping agony that made me curl into myself.

"Don't move," Ryan said, his voice gentler now as he knelt beside me. "Help is coming. Just stay still."

I could hear other voices—Leon's panicked protests about bad publicity, Chloe's shrill denials that she'd done anything wrong, the younger team members asking what they should do. But Ryan's voice cut through it all, steady and reassuring.

"You're going to be okay," he murmured, and I felt something soft being pressed against the back of my head. His jacket, I realized dimly. "What's your name?"

"Aria," I whispered.

Something flickered in his eyes—that recognition again, stronger now. "Aria," he repeated, and there was something almost wondering in his voice. "Hold on, Aria. Just hold on."

The world was getting fuzzy around the edges, but through the growing darkness, I could see Leon at the top of the stairs, his phone pressed to his ear. He wasn't calling for help—he was calling Marcus, probably already spinning the story, figuring out how to minimize the damage to his precious brand.

As consciousness slipped away, the last thing I felt was Ryan's hand in mine, warm and steady, anchoring me to a world that was rapidly fading to black.