“I can’t be pregnant,” I sob in panic as I flip through the doctor’s report. “So… and what do we have here?” a man’s voice comes from behind, and I doomfully close my eyes. “Hm…” A powerful hand with a familiar tattoo swings over my shoulder, snatches the papers. “Don’t think this is your child,” I turn to the boss, who is thoughtfully studying my medical chart. “We didn’t have anything.” “Almost,” I whisper—and I’m not sure I believe it myself. “It’s just a mistake. I’ll retake the tests at another clinic.”
Based on the ultrasound results, it wasn’t a mistake after all. And I know it happened—only with me. Our “mistake” is six weeks along. The timelines match.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll handle it myself.”
“No matter what foolish thing you come up with in your pretty head, get it out of there,” he snaps coldly. “Because now you’ve got only one road… straight to the registry office. With me.”
“But I have… a fiancé,” I remind him softly.
“Forget it,” he cuts me off sharply. “You have my child. It changes everything. Your only fiancé is me.”