The Billionaire's Contract: The baby He Never Wanted

"What’s your plan for the weekend?" Tiffany asked, dropping her oversized bag on the floor with a dramatic thud as she strolled into the room like she owned it. "Is he...?" she trailed off, her voice dropping low as she referred to my fiancé without actually saying his name. "No, he’s out," I replied without looking up. "Miles has a meeting in Milan. He’s been there for over a week now," I added, my tone casual. "Oh, good," she muttered, walking further in. Tiffany didn’t like him. "I still don’t like that fiancé of yours," she said bluntly, crossing her arms as she leaned against the table. From the moment Miles and I started dating, Tiffany had been all fire and attitude whenever his name came up. She claimed Miles was—what was the word again?—ah, stuck up. It puzzled me at first, but over time, I learned to let it slide. I could understand it in a way—it was almost cute. Classic best friend versus fiancé rivalry. "Since your fiancé is away, let’s do something fun this weekend. Come on!" she whined, trying to get my attention, her tone shifting to one of exaggerated pleading. "Tiffany, wait," I scolded lightly, my fingers still flying over the keyboard as I tried to finish up the report I’d been working on for hours. "I’ve got so much work to do," I told her, hoping she’d understand and let it go. "Come on, Gwen! You can’t stay stuck up like this forever!" she exclaimed, her voice sharp with frustration. I sighed, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. Tiffany was clearly irritated, but honestly, not half as frustrated as I was. Working for a maniac was no joke. The top dog, ugh, I’d always wondered what he looked like. That man who somehow managed to drain the life out of all of us, even from afar. "You should be done with work by now," Tiffany muttered, her voice laced with exasperation as she sprawled across my couch, flipping lazily through her phone. I should be, but I couldn’t stop. Not yet. Everything had to be perfect—flawless, even. Exactly the way they liked it. My immediate superior wasn’t the issue; she was tolerable enough. The real problem was the man at the top—the CEO, top dawg, the owner, the ultimate perfectionist who micromanaged every detail as if the fate of the universe depended on it. Tatum Grey. The name alone made me clench my teeth. The man was a complete nutcase who demanded nothing less than a hundred percent perfection at all times. And if, by some miracle, we managed to meet his standards, he’d raise the bar even higher, as if to say, Not good enough—try again. Why was I working on a Friday night? My so-called 9-to-5 had somehow morphed into a round-the-clock nightmare of unattainable expectations. Yes, I wasn’t supposed to be doing this at home, but here I was, overtime and striving to meet the ridiculously high standards of my pristine and intolerable boss. Tatum Grey. Even his name sounded cold and unapproachable. I imagine it would be Fitting, really—it must be perfectly matched his personality. Gloomy. Boorish. Grey. For someone who ran an empire, he was strangely anonymous. No one knew what he looked like. We didn't work directly with him anyway but It was as if he existed only as an idea, a shadow looming over everything. Finally, I’d had enough. With a frustrated sigh, I slammed my laptop shut and turned to face Tiffany. "You were saying?" I asked, rubbing my temples. "Let’s have fun this weekend. A getaway or something," she said, her eyes lighting up with hope as she sat up eagerly. "I can’t afford it," I replied, already feeling the weight of my ever-shrinking bank account. "But you don’t even know what it is yet," Tiffany protested, frowning as she leaned toward me. Sighing, I finally gave her my full attention. "Okay, what is it about?" Her frown vanished, replaced by a mischievous grin. "So... I won the prize," she began, drawing out the words dramatically. My eyes widened, my skepticism warring with curiosity. "You what?" "It’s for a weekend yacht trip," she said, her excitement bubbling over. "You should totally go," I told her wholeheartedly, smiling at the excitement practically radiating off her. She actually got it. Her boss was handing out a prize, and it seemed she had qualified for it. "Look at you, all grown up and impressing your boss," I teased, nudging her lightly. She grinned but then surprised me with, "I can't go without you." Before I could respond, she added, "Let’s go together!" "A luxury yacht trip?" I repeated incredulously, raising an eyebrow before bursting into laughter. "Definitely not. I can’t afford it." The words came out easily enough, but the truth of it stung. With how hard I’d been working for years, something like this shouldn’t have felt so unattainable. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. But it was. My main job should have been more than enough to keep me afloat, I was being paid quite well, with other incentives as well, but reality had other plans. I had debts, a mountain of them, the tuition loan was there and the hospital bills that seemed to grew continuously. I wasn’t doing badly, but I wasn’t doing well enough to afford luxuries like this. Vacations, even a weekend cruise, were out of the question. My money was needed for a whole lot of other things. "People actually spend that much for just a weekend?" I said, stretching my limbs and shaking my head in disbelief. A weekend yatch trip was just something else. "Two days on a yacht... it’s crazy. Some people have way too much money." "It’s necessary to unwind," Tiffany argued. "You're going to work, slave away, and get old," she whined dramatically, flopping onto the couch. "You really need to unwind sometimes," she muttered, shooting me a pointed look. "I mean, it's the weekend. You shouldn't even be working on a weekend." She wasn’t wrong, but she knew full well that’s exactly what I had planned to do. Work through the weekend, just like always. The extra cash could cover the light bill or stock up on groceries. "After I’m done with this project, I’m going to look for a side job to do over the weekends," I muttered, half to myself. "Seriously?" she groaned. There was no way I’d use up my precious time—a time I could spend making more money—just to blow it all on some frivolous weekend cruise. "Baby girl, time is money, and I’m not about to waste either," I added with a sigh. "But what if..." Her eyes lit up suddenly, that mischievous spark I knew too well dancing in them. I groaned. "What now? What are you scheming this time?" I’d known her long enough to recognize that look. Trouble was brewing. "What if we can do both?" she suggested, her voice filled with excitement. "Both?" I raised a skeptical brow. "What if you get a job on the cruise?" she proposed, her grin widening. I rolled my eyes and waved her off. "Sure," I said sarcastically, knowing jobs like that were impossible to snag at the last minute. It was definitely hot cakes. "I’ll come if you can get me a job there." "Fine! Deal!" she said, far too quickly. Before I could protest, she grabbed her phone and disappeared into the other room. I didn’t think much of it until she came waltzing back in less than ten minutes, practically skipping with excitement. "Pack your bags, baby!" she squealed. I blinked at her, dumbfounded. "For real?" "For real," she replied smugly, waving her phone. I stared at her, equal parts impressed and horrified. "How on earth did you pull that off so fast?" "You’ll get to work as one of the cabin stewardess or waitress," Tiffany explained, her grin widening. "You’ll work shifts, and during your time off, we can have fun. Plus, the pay is wild." When she mentioned the amount, my jaw dropped. "How on earth did you manage to find a slot for me on such short notice? And for a job like that?" Didn't the cruise company hire workers through an agency? She winked. "I have my sources." "Tiffany," I called her name suspiciously, narrowing my eyes. She didn’t even flinch. It was clear she had planned this far in advance, even before now. "Fine," she admitted with a sheepish shrug. "I know you needed a break, and this was the only way I could come up with something that let us have fun and kept you from feeling guilty about spending money. Because you’d be making money too." Her tone softened as she added, "Don’t get mad, okay?" I stared at her for a moment, then pulled her into a hug. Rather than just hand me money—knowing I’d never take it—she had gone out of her way to create an opportunity for me. The thoughtfulness of it made my chest tighten with gratitude. But at the same time, guilt crept in. I couldn’t help but think of all the times she could have been out enjoying herself, only to stay by my side, hanging around while I worked extra shifts or juggling my part-time jobs. "Wait," I pulled back slightly, narrowing my eyes again, this really wasn't ordinary. Weren't jobs like this pre-arranged?. “What did you do?“ Tiffany froze, her guilty expression giving her away entirely. "Okay, okay," she rushed to explain, waving her hands. "Look, I know someone and one of the workers suddenly had to opt out. So I…may have spoken to the guy in charge of the services to keep it Open. It’s not a big deal!" Her casual tone didn’t fool me, the lengths she had gone to make this happen left me speechless. "And you did all this even before you were sure you were going to win the cruise ticket yourself?" She shrugged again, looking a little embarrassed. "I just wanted to make sure you’d have something to fall back on. You deserve a break, Gwen." Her kindness made my throat tighten again, but I managed to keep my composure. Tiffany truly was the most selfless, loving friend anyone could ever ask for. "So please, this is going to be my first-ever cruise experience, and I'll feel terrible going alone." Tiffany's eyes practically sparkled as she clasped her hands together in mock prayer. "Let’s go together, please, with sugar on top?" If I said no, there was a good chance she’d toss the ticket in frustration and end up napping on my couch. I had goals. Real, pressing ones. I wanted to be debt-free—or at least have paid off a significant chunk of it—before Miles and I got married. My gaze drifted to the imposing diamond on my finger, a constant reminder of the life I was stepping into. Miles came from money. He’d insisted on the ring, saying it symbolized how much I meant to him. And while it was beautiful, the weight of it sometimes felt like a burden, especially when I thought about meeting his parents. Showing up with piles of unpaid debts wasn’t exactly going to make the best impression. I sighed deeply. "Fine then," I said, relenting. Tiffany’s grin was instantaneous, but she hesitated before adding, "Okay, but here’s the thing—you’ll kinda be going as someone else. Low-key. Staff members are accounted for, and we managed to get you in as a replacement for someone who had to cancel last minute, so..." "I understand," I cut her off, nodding quickly. This wasn’t my first time bending the rules to make things work. The thought of actually stepping onto a luxury cruise, even if I was working, sent a tiny thrill through me. For once, I’d get to step away from the monotony of my routine. Sure, I’d still be working, but there’d be moments for fun. And after so many endless weeks of grinding, the idea of being out on the sea instead of stuck on dry land sounded like a dream. "Besides," I added with a small grin, "working at sea would feel nice.“ That was as long as Hound master didn't come up with some other new idea to make us miserable this weekend. Gwen and I had a sleepover that night where she ran me through what my responsibilities would entail. It was essentially a hotel room delivery service only this time, it would be on the sea. With a lot more shifts. I wasn’t worried, though. I’d done all kinds of jobs in the past, so this didn’t seem like anything I couldn’t handle. The cruise was scheduled to depart later, but since I'd be working, we had to check in earlier the next morning. Tiffany’s contact, the guy who’d managed to secure the job for me, met us as soon as we arrived. “You know the drill,” he muttered, barely sparing me a glance as he handed over a badge and some paperwork. I nodded without hesitation. I understood the arrangement perfectly—stay out of trouble, do the work, and don’t ask unnecessary questions, also not drawing attention to myself. As we walked toward the staff entrance, Tiffany suddenly tensed and grabbed my arm. “Hey, Gwen, Miles is in Milan, right?” “Yes. Why?” I asked, glancing at her in confusion. Her brow furrowed as she scanned the area around us. “Nothing, it’s just... I thought I saw someone who looked like him for a split second. Really looked like him.” “Probably just a doppelgänger,” I said lightly, trying to dismiss the notion. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” she agreed after a moment. “There are loads of people with that look.” “Exactly. And Miles does have kind of a common face,” I added with a shrug. Tiffany smirked. “You're right,” she agreed immediately. “A very common face. There’s nothing special or flattering about him, really—” “Okay, that’s enough,” I interrupted, shushing her with a small laugh. Miles was real good looking, we both knew that but Tiffany wouldn’t miss an opportunity to poke fun at Miles. “Well, thankfully, Miles is miles away from here,” she said, grinning at her own pun. “Ugh, the puns!” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “You’re insufferable.” “I know mama,” she laughed, looping her arm through mine as we headed toward the dock.