Thirteen Years of Obsession

Five weeks ago

The words hung in the air like smoke after a gunshot.

“You’re pregnant, Sera.”

I stared at Lucian, my hand still pressed to my stomach like I could somehow feel something this early. The sheet had slipped down to my waist, but I didn’t care. Nothing felt real anymore.

Pregnant.

From that night five weeks ago in the private lounge. The night I told myself was just a stupid, heated mistake. His fingers, my hand on him, the way he came hot and messy between my thighs while I ground down chasing my own release. No condom. No sense. Just raw need and bad decisions.

And now there was a baby.

Or… babies? The thought made my head spin harder.

Lucian watched me like I might disappear if he blinked. His gray eyes were wide, the usual ice cracked wide open. He looked almost scared. The powerful billionaire who had planned my destruction for thirteen years suddenly looked like a man who had no control left.

“Say something,” he whispered.

I laughed. It came out broken and ugly. “What do you want me to say? Congratulations, Daddy? Thanks for knocking me up while you were busy plotting how to ruin my life?”

He flinched. Actually flinched.

“I didn’t plan the baby,” he said, voice rough. “The blood test after the gala… I just wanted to make sure you were okay after you fainted. When the results came back positive, everything changed.”

“Everything changed?” I pushed off the bed, wrapping the sheet around me like it could protect me from any of this. My legs felt shaky. “You knew for weeks and said nothing. You still forced me into this marriage. You still let me walk down that aisle thinking I was just signing away one year of my life.”

“I was trying to protect you—”

“Protect me?” My voice cracked. “You got me pregnant during your revenge game and hid it! What part of that is protection?”

The news alert on his phone kept glowing on the nightstand. “Billionaire’s Secret Stalker Marriage — Pregnancy Rumors Surface.” Isabella had worked fast.

Lucian stood up slowly. He was still half-naked, pants barely hanging on his hips, but the power he usually wore like armor looked cracked tonight.

“I know how it sounds,” he said quietly. “I know I don’t deserve any forgiveness. But when I saw those results… the revenge felt smaller than the thought of you carrying my child. Our child.”

Tears burned behind my eyes. I hated them. I hated how my body still remembered the way his hands felt on me just minutes ago. How part of me — the stupid, traitorous part — wanted him to pull me back into his arms and tell me everything would be okay.

Instead I backed away until my spine hit the cold window.

“I need space,” I whispered. “I need to think. I can’t do this with you standing here looking at me like… like I’m already yours.”

“You are mine,” he said, but there was no command in it this time. Just raw honesty that hurt worse. “But I’ll give you the room if that’s what you want. Just… don’t leave the penthouse tonight. The press is already swarming downstairs. Isabella leaked everything she could.”

I nodded, too exhausted to fight.

Lucian grabbed his shirt from the floor and pulled it on. At the doorway he paused, one hand on the frame.

“I never wanted to hurt you like this,” he said softly. “I thought I could control it. The plan. The feelings. All of it. Turns out I’m not as good at control as I believed.”

He left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

I sank down onto the floor, sheet still clutched around me, knees drawn up to my chest.

Pregnant.

With Lucian Voss’s baby.

The man who had spent thirteen years planning to destroy my family.

The man whose fingers had been inside me less than an hour ago.

The man who looked at me tonight like I was the only thing that could break him.

I pressed my forehead to my knees and let the tears come. Quiet, messy sobs that shook my shoulders.

Somewhere in the distance, another siren wailed through the New York night. Random. Pointless. Just like my life felt right now.

I didn’t know how long I sat there.

Eventually the door creaked open again.

Lucian stood in the doorway holding a glass of water and a small plate with crackers. His hair was messed up, eyes tired.

“I don’t know what you need,” he said simply. “But I read somewhere pregnant women should stay hydrated and eat small things if they feel sick.”

I stared at him. The big bad billionaire bringing me water and crackers like it was the most important thing in the world.

It was ridiculous.

It was heartbreaking.

I didn’t take the glass.

Instead I whispered the only thing I could manage.

“I’m scared, Lucian.”

He set the water and plate on the nightstand and slowly walked over. He didn’t touch me. Just crouched down so we were eye level.

“So am I,” he admitted. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you tell me to.”

Outside, the first hints of sunrise were starting to paint the sky over the city.

A new day.

A new nightmare.

And somewhere inside me, a tiny life that tied me to the man I was supposed to hate.

I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.

But tonight, with Lucian watching me like I was both his greatest sin and his only salvation, I let myself cry a little harder.