The Billionaire's Bundle of Joy

Chapter 6

JUSTIN

“f**k!” I couldn’t help but curse when she suddenly lost consciousness. It’s obvious she’s not well, and my first instinct was to take her to the hospital.

I carried her out the door and took her to the elevator. As the door closed, I pressed the L for the lobby. When we got out, two guards saw me.

“Sir! What happened?” they asked, flustered. Before I could answer, one signaled to his partner to call my driver.

In times like this, they know what to do. It’s part of their orientation. My driver’s apartment is close to the office, so he arrived in a few minutes.

I sat in the back while still holding her. I told Roger to take us to General. As we drove, my mind was racing. I don’t even know why I asked Rowan to look for her. Not only that, I told him to bring her to me so I could talk to her. After my accident two months ago, I lost some memories.

When the car stopped in front of the hospital, the medical staff immediately attended to us. I am one of the donors at this facility, and I contribute a significant amount to them. They tended to… What was her name again? Damn it.

“Sir, what is the patient’s name?” a nurse asked me.

Another staff member. I briefly closed my eyes and thought. Finally, I remembered.

“Arizona Consigna.”

“How old is she, and what happened? Does she have any allergies?”

“I don’t know exactly how old she is. But I think she may be pregnant.” The nurse looked surprised. “She had weird cravings. I’m not sure. Anyway, she passed out when she was about to leave, and I caught her.”

“Okay, sir. If I have any more questions later, I will come back to you.”

I nodded at her. As she walked away, I called Rowan to let him handle what the woman needed. But my f*****g assistant had his phone turned off. He had mentioned earlier that he was going out of town for a few days. He’s not just my personal assistant; he’s become a close friend since my accident. He was the only one who was there for me and put up with my behavior. My mother is gone, and my stepfather passed away soon after. As for other family members, it’s a little complicated. My stepfather had a child from his first marriage, but he remained illegitimate, which upset him greatly, especially when I was made the heir.

I had no choice but to stay here and look after her. I could always hire a private nurse for her, but every time I looked at her face, it always conveyed to me that she needed me. It may seem weird, but I can’t just walk away from her.

I let the doctor and his team do their job. Some minutes later, the doctor came to see me.

“Mr. Calderon, good evening,” he greeted me. “I’m Dr. Mondejar.” He shook my hand, and I accepted it.

“How is the patient?” I’m used to being straightforward. And although I’m not a fan of pleasantries, I still tried to at least acknowledge him. Shaking his hand was one way.

“She is fine. Just pregnant. Fainting during pregnancy is caused by a sudden drop in blood pressure. This is due to the hormones released during pregnancy that relax the blood vessels. The brain then receives insufficient blood.”

I don’t know much about medical terms, so as long as the doctor told me the woman was okay, that was good enough for me.

“Okay.”

He cleared his throat and said, “She’s about eight weeks pregnant. When I ran a few tests, she seemed to be under a lot of stress. It’s best that the patient gets plenty of rest and follows a healthy diet, especially since she is eating for two. Do you know if she’s taking prenatal vitamins?” When I looked at him blankly, he didn’t know whether to laugh or ignore what I said. He chose the latter. “I will have her prescription ready. Her hemoglobin is also low. She’s borderline anemic, so we have to monitor her. Does she have an OB?”

“I am not sure.”

“Okay, I will make a referral. Is there a preference?”

He was asking me if she preferred a male or female OB, but I shook my head.

“Okay, I will have the discharge papers ready. You can see the patient for now while we do the paperwork.”

When he turned his back, I changed my mind and called him. “I prefer a female OB for her.”

“Yes, sir.”

I shouldn’t care. She’s not my wife. But as a man, if I had a wife, I wouldn’t want a male OB either. I walked over to her, and she was already awake. I stopped at the foot of the bed and looked at her. She seemed restless.

“Can I go home now? I can’t stay here long.”

“Relax. You will be discharged tonight.” She looked relieved. “By the way, where is your home? I’ll take you there.”

I didn’t know if it was just my imagination, but I saw fear in her eyes. Why? I am ruthless, yes, but only in business. As a person, I mind my own business unless I need to be an asshole, then that’s a different story.

“D-Don’t. I’m just going to take a taxi from here.”

I frowned, but if that’s what she wanted, there was nothing I could do. I’ll just let her do whatever she wants. She looks like she’s of the right age. But in the back of my mind, it’s telling me that she’s pregnant and shouldn’t go home alone. She also left her things at my place. And she fainted earlier. What if that happens again, and no one is there to catch her?

“How much is the bill?”

“It’s not much,” she replied.

“Have you seen my purse?”

“You left it at my place. I can’t carry your suitcase and purse,” I explained to her.

She blushed. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I’ll just get my things from you and then I’ll leave. I’m really sorry.”

I couldn’t hold back my questions any longer. “Did you run away because you’re pregnant?” She didn’t respond. “Why did you really come to see me? Was it because of your pregnancy? You’re eight weeks pregnant according to the doctor.”

“I’ve made a mistake. Can we just leave it at that?”

“Mistake? I was told you were determined to see Paul Gonzales. I’m right in front of you; why chicken out now?” She wouldn’t answer me properly, which only annoyed me.

“I’m pregnant.”

“I think that’s already been established. Anything else you want to add?”

“You’re the father.”

She said it almost in a whisper, but I heard it loud and clear. What kind of sick joke is this?

“Excuse me?”

“I said, you are the father. But don’t worry, I’m not asking you to marry me or support the child. I mean unless you want to.” Arizona looked like she just wanted to run away and not talk about her pregnancy. “Can we not talk about this anymore? I just want to go back to your place to get my things, and I will be on my way.”

I frowned at what she said. For a woman to tell me that I’m about to be a father and then say she doesn’t want anything from me, why come see me?

“You can’t just tell me all those things and expect me to let you leave.”

Her brows knitted together, and her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but she didn’t continue.

“After you get discharged, I’m taking you back to my place, and we will talk. You can’t just blurt out things like that.”

What does this woman think? That it’s okay to have a bastard child?

Growing up without a father wasn’t easy. And growing up without a father while we were dirt poor was even worse, especially when the people around you did nothing but think and speak ill of you. My mother and I lived hand to mouth. If she hadn’t met my father, our lives wouldn’t have improved. Their love story was one for the books, and I was lucky that she didn’t treat me like I was different.

“I already told you, I don’t need your help anymore, and that’s why I’m leaving.” She looked angry.

I crossed my arms. “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-one,” she replied, annoyed.

“Then why are you acting like a child when you’re actually an adult? In about seven months, you’ll be giving birth. How do you expect to care for your child when you act like that?” I tried to remain calm, but what I hated most were people who were stubborn and let their emotions get the better of them. Arizona was clearly upset.

“If you are trying to insult me, take a number.” She looked at the IV in her arm and slowly started peeling off the tape. She winced as she pulled the tape off.

“I am not trying to insult you. Learn the difference between an insult and having an adult conversation.” She didn’t respond and continued peeling off the annoying tape. “Stop doing that. If you pull that out, you’ll bleed, and then you’ll stress out again and faint.” I looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes. This was giving me a headache.

When I looked at her again, she was staring at me.

“What?”

She quickly looked away. “You sound like I intentionally fainted.”

I was taken aback. “Come again?”

“Nothing.”

Jeez! This woman will be the death of me. If you looked at her, she seemed fragile. She was the type who would follow anything you said, not stubborn, and not confrontational. But she was the exact opposite with that smart mouth. She always had a comeback when talking to me and was determined to distance herself from me. If she really wanted to get away from me, she shouldn’t have told me that I was the father of the child. But even if she hadn’t, I would have the question lingering at the back of my head, and I would investigate her. No one dares to carry my child and expect that I won’t care. Once it’s proven that the child is indeed mine, he or she will carry my surname, and I will ensure that their life will be good.

Women keeping their children for themselves were not entirely being selfish. Everyone has their own reasons. Some were meant to destroy the other party, but sometimes, it was kept to protect the father of their child. Whatever the reason was, that was between the two people who made the child. Once the decision was made, they would stand by it until the end.

Almost twenty minutes later, the staff arrived and said we could go home. I asked them to send me the bill. I noticed that Arizona looked relieved. As we got into the car, I was puzzled by her. I had slept with countless women. I had experience since I was sixteen, but I always made sure that I was safe. So if what she said was true, that we met at Club Pyre and something happened between us that led to her getting pregnant, it was hard for me to believe. I’m thirty, not a teenager who doesn’t know how to use a condom.

Unless the f*****g condom broke.

I glanced at her again. She is not ugly but not my usual type either. I prefer my women tall, glamorous, short hair, and sophisticated. Arizona is not that tall but not too short either. I estimate she’s about five feet three inches, and with my height, she barely reaches my shoulder. She doesn’t look sophisticated at all. Her nails are not manicured, although they are clean and short. Her dark hair is past her shoulders and wavy. It looked a little dull, to be honest. She’s not wearing any makeup, and her clothing is very simple. She’s the type of woman I wouldn’t look at twice if we crossed paths on the street. Arizona looked depressing.

So how the hell did I end up sleeping with her and knocking her up?

“Stop staring,” she suddenly said to me.

I didn’t respond and just waited until we arrived at the penthouse. As soon as we walked in, she prepared her things. She placed her purse on top of the luggage and pulled it toward the side of the front door. There she waited, as if I would talk to her while she stood.

“Sit down, and let’s talk. Do you want milk?”

I don’t know much about pregnant women, except when my mother was pregnant, and I saw my father bring her warm milk. Sadly, she had a miscarriage and never got pregnant again. Papa was a good man and didn’t succumb to sadness. He dealt with his pain when he thought no one was looking. But I saw him once drinking alcohol and quietly crying. I let him be.

Arizona looked surprised. Why is it that whenever I offer her something or do something for her, she seems so shocked? Was her family not treating her well? Was she bullied? I suddenly felt protective of the mother of my child. She claimed it, and even though I have my doubts, I’m going to play along until I have proof.

“I don’t drink—”

“The baby needs it,” I insisted. She nodded and had no choice after I said that. Good. At least she has concern for the baby.