Pretending to be Impregnated by My Billionare Ex

When I opened my eyes, my head felt heavy, and my body was sluggish. I found myself in wasn’t familiar room. It was a spacious, modern living room, with sleek furniture and tall windows that overlooked a sprawling garden.

I shifted uncomfortably, the realization dawning on me that I wasn’t alone. Sitting directly across from me on a plush couch was Prinston Saludés. His sharp, piercing eyes locked onto mine, his expression cold and unreadable.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with menace.

I swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to say. “W-Where am I?”

“My home,” he replied flatly. “Don't waste my time. Now tell me, how exactly I impregnated you when we ended our relationship these past few years, huh?"

The question felt like a slap. I froze, my mind scrambling for an answer. My plan hadn’t gone this far—I didn’t think I’d ever have to justify it. Panic bubbled in my chest. I couldn’t admit the truth, not to his face.

“I... I’m telling the truth,” I stammered. “We were together the other night. Don’t you remember?”

His brow furrowed, disbelief written all over his face. “I don’t think so.”

My heart pounded as he stood, towering over me. “You’re lying," he said coldly. “And I don’t have time for liars.”

He turned to leave, but before he could, another voice cut through the room.

“Sir, wait!”

I looked up to see a man stepping into the living room. It was Jordan. Jordan’s face was pale as he handed Prinston a tablet. “You need to see this.”

I saw him on the newspapers. He was a Muay Thai Champion International. In his aura, he was Prinston's assistant.

Prinston grabbed the device, his jaw tightening as he read whatever was on the screen. His face darkened, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“It’s all over the news,” Jordan explained nervously. “That woman caused a scene at your office earlier, claiming she’s carrying your child. People are furious. If you deny this, it’ll ruin your reputation. Investors are already asking questions.”

Prinston cursed under his breath, tossing the tablet onto the couch. His eyes locked onto me again, this time with a mix of anger and resignation.

“You’ve caused me enough problems already,” he said, his tone icy. “But fine. If it’ll keep this from blowing up any further, you can stay here until the baby is born. After that, we’ll settle this properly.”

I exhaled shakily, relief flooding my chest despite his coldness.

The following months passed in a blur. Living in Prinston’s mansion was surreal, but the tension between us never eased. He barely spoke to me unless it was necessary, and when he did, his words were clipped and distant.

Jordan, on the other hand, tried to make me feel comfortable. He’d check in on me, make sure I had everything I needed, and even offer a kind word when the silence in the house became suffocating.

But despite the luxury, I couldn’t shake the anxiety that gnawed at me daily. I knew I was walking on thin ice, and every moment around Prinston was a reminder of the lie I’d told—a lie that could come crashing down at any moment.

Why am I so desperate?

The day finally came when I went into labor. The pain was unbearable, and the panic in my chest only grew as I was rushed to the hospital.

Everything felt off from the moment I arrived. The room they placed me in was eerily quiet, and I noticed there were no nurses around. Just one doctor, standing with their back to me.

I tried to steady my breathing as the doctor approached. Something about their movements seemed too familiar, and when they finally turned to face me, my blood ran cold.

It was Deanne.

She was wearing a white coat and a surgical mask, but her eyes gave her away. I stared at her in disbelief as she pulled the mask down, revealing a sinister smirk.

“What... what are you doing here?” I managed to choke out.

Deanne chuckled softly, her tone dripping with malice. “Oh, Jermaine, did you really think you could get away with this?”

I tried to sit up, but she shoved me back onto the bed, her grip surprisingly strong.

“You’ve always been such a pathetic little liar,” she sneered. “But this? Pretending to carry Prinston’s child? You’ve crossed the line. You are just an obstacle for our goal."

“D-Deanne, please,” I begged, tears streaming down my face. “I’m sorry! Just—just let me have the baby, and I’ll disappear. I won’t bother you... and Prinston ever again.”

She leaned in close, her face inches from mine. “Oh, your baby will dissapear."

Before I could react, she clamped a hand over my mouth, muffling my screams. I struggled, but my body was weak from the labor pains.

I felt the sharp sting of a needle in my arm, and my vision began to blur. Deanne’s cruel voice was the last thing I heard before darkness consumed me.

“Say goodbye to your baby, you bitch.”