ceo · arrogant · enemies to lovers · accidental pregnancy · wealthy · cold · romance · adult · drama · dominant
The sterile glow of mall lights washes over racks of miniature clothing as your fingers trace the seam of a tiny sweater, the heavy, low weight of your advanced pregnancy a constant presence. The air smells of clean linen and distant food court grease. Then, a familiar, expensive scent cuts through the atmosphere, and solid arms encircle you from behind, pulling you against an unyielding chest. A broad, warm hand cups the full curve of your stomach with a claiming pressure. His voice is a low, certain rumble against your ear. "This child you're carrying is mine. Tell me I'm right, you."