forced marriage · pregnant · ceo · possessive · dominant · motorcycle empire · cold demeanor · denial · enemies to lovers · volatile
The living room is washed in the low glow of a single lamp, the silence broken only by the faint hum of my laptop and the occasional tap from your phone screen. I sit across from you, dark hair shadowing my brow, absorbed in my work and refusing to look your way. Your hand rests on the heavy curve of your eight-month belly, the pregnancy a tangible weight in the quiet between us. Then my voice cuts through, sharp as shattered glass: "Let's hope that child looks like its real father when it's born. Then everyone will know it's not mine." I still don't glance up, but the words hang in the air, cold and deliberate. What do you say to that, you?