Pregnant by Two Secrets: My Ex and His Father

His eyes lifted the moment I walked inside. They didn't wander around. They were locked in on me. "You came," he said as I approached. "I had questions," I replied, my voice struggled to be steadier than I felt. He gestured to the seat across from him. "Sit." I did. He studied me for a long moment, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing details he planned to recall later. "The dress suits you," he said. "You sent it," I replied. "I did." Silence took over the conversation between us. After a moment that seemed like forever, he finally spoke. "You don't belong where you are." I frowned. "You don't know me." "I know hunger when I see it," he said calmly. "And fear." My fingers curled into my lap, I immediately regretted showing up. Lucien leaned back slightly. "I don't waste time, Ophelia. So I'll be direct." My heart pounded. "I need a wife." The words hit harder than I expected. "A contract," he continued. "Clear terms. Mutual benefit." I shook my head. "You don't even know me." "I know enough." He slid a folder across the table. "Three years," he said. "You'll have wealth, class, protection, and a share in my empire If you choose to stand beside me. In return, I require an heir." My chest tightened. "And if I refuse?" I asked. Lucien met my gaze. "Then you leave untouched. No consequences." This man is definitely older, he looks double my age beneath that perfect body. The city lights blurred behind him. I thought of the rent due. The empty fridge. The way my body still flinched every time I remembered the life I ran from. Survival stared back at me. "I want to read it," I said quietly. Lucien nodded. I opened the folder with trembling hands. The terms were clean. Cold. Precise. I picked up the pen, it felt heavier than it should be. Fear screamed in my head,but survival screamed louder. I signed. "I'll take it." Lucien watched silently. When I finished, he stood, offering his hand. His soft smile drifted into a smirk that looked cruel, I convinced myself that it was just my feelings. "Welcome, Mrs. Sinclair," he said softly. Lucien released my hand and stepped back, already detached, like the decision had never weighed anything at all. "You can order whatever you like," he added calmly. "Charge it to my name." I blinked. "I...," "And pack," he continued, already turning away. "My driver will pick you up tomorrow morning." Just like that, he walked off. No lingering glance. No reassurance. No warmth. I sat there for a long moment, staring at the signed contract in front of me, my heartbeat pounded in my ears. Around me, the lounge continued humming,soft laughter, clinking glasses. I felt like I had stepped into another world and left my body behind. My phone felt heavy in my hand as I dialed Tessa. "Ophie?" she answered immediately. "I think I just sold my life," I said breathlessly. There was silence. "Did you sign?" "Yes." She screamed. "But listen...order food. Real food. If you're stepping into fine dining, you had better start practicing." By the time I got home, Tessa was already pacing the room, her face flushed, eyes shining like she had won the lottery herself. "You did it," she said, grabbing my hands. "You actually did it." "I don't know if I should be scared or relieved," I admitted. "Both," she laughed. We ate cross-legged on the bed, laughing between bites, planning outfits that didn't exist yet. I packed my best clothes, the few dresses that weren't faded, shoes with worn soles, memories folded between them. The next morning, a horn blared outside our apartment, deep, polished, expensive. My phone buzzed. "A ride is waiting when you're ready." Tessa rushed to the window and gasped. "Ophie... that car is bigger than our future." I laughed, but my chest felt tight. The mansion was nothing like I imagined. It was worse. Bigger. Colder. Controlled. Lucien looked at my suitcase once and smirked. "There will be no need for those," he said flatly. "They won't fit the image." I felt small. Exposed. Stylists arrived. Boxes followed. Dresses. Shoes. Bags. Jewelry. Everything was brand new and untouched. Tessa stood frozen, her hands pressed to her chest. "Do you know how lucky you are?" she whispered. I didn't answer. I watched Tessa move around the room, touching things she didn't own like they might disappear if she blinked too hard. Her fingers brushed over silk, over a diamond clasp, over a pair of heels that probably cost more than our rent for a year. "You're so lucky," she repeated, softer this time. I still didn't answer. Because luck had never felt this heavy before. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands resting on my knees, staring at my reflection in the tall mirror across the room. The woman staring back at me looked polished. Expensive. Almost untouchable. But I knew better. I could still feel the old fear sitting under my ribs, tight and familiar. Luck doesn't come with contracts, I wanted to say. Luck doesn't smell like control. But Tessa's eyes were shining, and I didn't want to dim that light with my doubts. So I smiled. Just a little. She came closer and sat beside me, her shoulder brushing mine. "This is your turning point, Ophie. Everything changes from here." I nodded, even though my stomach twisted. Because she was right. Everything was changing. I just wasn't sure yet if it was for the better... or if I had just walked into something I wouldn't be able to escape. When she finally had to leave, the room felt emptier than it ever had. She hugged me tight, longer than usual. "Don't disappear," she said softly. "Promise me." "I won't," I whispered. As the door closed behind her, silence settled around me, thick and heavy. And somewhere deep inside me, I knew... this wasn't the first time I had seen Lucien Sinclair.