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My Fiancé Funded His Pregnant Teacher With Company Money Novel Cover

My Fiancé Funded His Pregnant Teacher With Company Money

Behind the polished boardroom image, she was the architect of his success—three years of loyalty, hidden accounts funneling company money, and a future she believed was theirs. But when she uncovers Lane pouring funds into his pregnant teacher, every sacrifice crumbles into ash. Now the woman who built his empire faces the ultimate question: was their love ever genuine, or merely a calculated deal she was never meant to win?
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Chapter 3

I sat in my apartment with my phone in my hand. The screen glowed in the dark room. I'd been sitting there for twenty minutes, staring at the message I'd typed.

*I've been in a car accident. It's serious. They're taking me to the ER — Swedish Medical. Please come.*

My thumb hovered over the send button. This was stupid. Manipulative. Exactly the kind of thing I'd always hated.

But I needed to know.

I hit send.

The message went through. Delivered. Then, three seconds later: Read.

I stopped breathing.

Eleven seconds passed. I counted them. Watched the screen. Waited for the typing indicator. For the call. For anything.

The message disappeared.

Not delivered. Not read. Just gone.

He'd deleted it.

I pulled up my laptop. Opened the office security system—the one Lane didn't know I still had access to. The camera feed from his office loaded in grainy black and white.

There he was. Sitting at his desk. Phone in his hand. He set it down. Picked up his coffee. Took a sip. Then he lifted the phone again and started typing. His thumbs moved fast. A long message. He smiled at whatever he was writing.

I watched him hit send. Watched him lean back in his chair, relaxed. Content.

I closed the laptop.

Then I opened it again and sent him a calendar invitation. Subject: *We need to talk.* Location: His office. Time: Tomorrow, 9 AM.

He accepted it three minutes later.

I arrived early. The office was empty. I let myself in with the key I still had and sat in the chair across from his desk. The velvet ring box was gone. Probably in a drawer somewhere. Or maybe he'd given it to her already.

I laid the dossier on his desk. Every page printed and organized in a black folder. The $1 raise announcement. The $20,000 payments. The account statements going back three years. Gregory's notes. Everything.

Lane walked in at exactly nine. He had coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. He was smiling at something on the screen. Then he saw me.

The smile didn't disappear right away. It faded slowly, like he was deciding whether he needed to keep performing.

"Nevaeh. Morning."

"Sit down."

He glanced at the folder. Something shifted in his expression. He sat.

I pushed the folder toward him. "Explain."

He opened it. Flipped through the first few pages. His jaw moved slightly. That tell. The one I'd learned to read years ago and spent years pretending I didn't see.

"This is confidential financial information," he said quietly. "You shouldn't have access to this."

"I had access because you gave it to me. When you needed me to clean up your books for investors. Remember?"

He set the folder down. Looked at me. His face was calm. Too calm.

"Kataleya needed support," he said. "She was my teacher. She helped me when I had nothing. I'm not going to apologize for taking care of someone who took care of me."

"While giving everyone else a dollar."

"That's not—" He stopped. Took a breath. "You don't understand the full picture."

"Then explain it."

"I don't owe you an explanation."

The air in the room changed.

"You don't owe me—" I stopped. Started again. "I gave you three years. I gave you connections you couldn't have gotten on your own. I gave you money you didn't know came from me. I pawned my mother's necklace to keep this company alive when your first investor fell through."

His expression didn't change. "I didn't ask you to do any of that."

"I did it because I loved you."

"And I accepted it because I felt sorry for you."

The words landed like a physical blow. I felt my face go numb.

Lane stood up. He walked around the desk. Stood over me.

"You want the truth?" His voice was different now. Hard. "Kataleya is the only woman I've ever actually loved. The baby is mine. She's been part of my life longer than you have. And I'm tired of pretending that what we had was anything more than convenient."

"Convenient."

"You were useful. Your connections. Your family money you thought I didn't know about. But you were never—" He stopped. Shook his head. "You were never her."

I stood up. My legs felt unsteady but I made myself move.

His hand shot out. Grabbed my arm. "Where are you going?"

"Let go of me."

"We're not done."

I pulled my arm back. He held tighter.

"Lane. Let go."

He slapped me.

The sound was sharp. Loud in the quiet office. My head snapped to the side. I tasted copper.

I touched my cheek. My hand came away wet. I'd bitten the inside of my mouth.

Lane was breathing hard. His face was flushed. "You don't get to walk away. Not after everything I've built. You think you can threaten me with this?" He grabbed the folder. Threw it. Pages scattered across the floor. "You're replaceable. You've always been replaceable."

I looked at him. Really looked. At the man I'd spent three years building a life with. The man I'd sacrificed everything for.

He was a stranger.

"The engagement is off," he said. "Unless you get on your knees right now and apologize. To me. And to Kataleya. For invading our privacy. For being paranoid. For suffocating me with your pathetic need to be needed."

I didn't say anything. I just turned around and walked to the door.

"Nevaeh!"

I kept walking. Down the hall. Past the elevator. Down the stairs.

Outside, it was raining. I stood on the sidewalk with my hand pressed against my swelling cheek. The rain soaked through my jacket. I didn't care.

A black SUV pulled up to the curb. The back door opened.

Maddox stepped out.

He was in a dark suit. No umbrella. He walked straight to me through the rain and stopped inches away. His eyes went to my face. To the mark on my cheek.

Something happened to his expression. Something that made the air feel dangerous.

"Who did that to you?"

I couldn't answer. My throat was too tight.

Maddox took off his coat. Wrapped it around my shoulders. It was warm. It smelled like him.

"You're done suffering," he said quietly. "I'm here now."

And for the first time in three years, I believed someone.

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