Pregnant By My Coldhearted Boss

*Sophia’s POV* “Happy birthday, Sophia.” Linda, Ryan’s Cousin beamed at me from the entrance of the VIP section, holding a wine glass and wearing one of those glittery dresses that belonged in magazines. She leaned in for a light hug, her vanilla perfume trailing behind her. The music thumped low in the background, something mellow, cozy, with a soft beat that hummed through the floor. The lights in the club were dim, but soft golden spotlights made the whole place feel warm, almost like candlelight. Around me, small clusters of guests laughed, sipped cocktails, and clinked glasses under soft conversations. I smiled back at her. “Thanks, Linda.” Ryan and Vivian had insisted I celebrate my twenty-fifth this year. Honestly, I hadn’t planned to. I just didn’t feel like it. But they said it was time I did something for myself. So they picked this club, reserved the VIP section, and sent out invitations to a few friends and family. It was a small party, but still, it was happening. And it felt good. Different, but good. I adjusted the strap of my black silk dress and stepped further into the lounge, toward the couch where the party was still warming up. The soft hum of chatter wrapped around me like background music to my thoughts. Then I saw him. Ryan. Tall, effortlessly handsome in a dark button-down shirt and perfectly fitted pants, his wristwatch catching the light every time he moved. He looked like calm in the middle of chaos. And his eyes, those dark, gentle eyes, locked onto me like I was the only thing in the room. We’ve been dating for two years now. For the past two years, he’s been the one holding me up while I tried to figure life out. Funding my lifestyle, encouraging me through every rejection email, reminding me that it’s okay not to have everything together. And when I told him I hated feeling like a liability, he’d laugh and pull me in with that same line, “Then be a paid girlfriend. Full-time position. I’ll handle the rest.” He stood now, reached for my hand, and pulled me softly to his chest. The warmth of his body felt like home. “Happy birthday, my queen,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I smiled, leaning into him. The scent of his cologne, smooth jazz floating in the air, and the faint laughter of guests made the moment feel suspended in time. “Thank you for this,” I whispered. “I can’t remember the last time I celebrated my birthday.” He looked at me, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Then we’re making new memories. Starting now.” I held back a tear. “The last time I had a cake with my name on it, my mom was still alive.” He kissed the top of my head again. “She’d be proud of the woman you’ve become.” I nodded slowly. “I hope so.” “I’m stepping out to pick someone,” he said, giving my hand a light squeeze. “I’ll be right back.” I watched him disappear toward the entrance, my chest tightening in a strange, sweet way. A small smile curled on my lips. I’m the luckiest woman alive. “Happy birthday, sister,” came a sharp voice behind me. I turned. Vivian. She stood tall in gold heels, her blonde hair perfectly styled, a champagne glass dangling between her fingers like it was an accessory. Her eyes scanned me from head to toe, lips tugging into a tight smile. “I hope as you get older, you get wiser too.” I let out a breath. “Vivian, don’t start today.” “I’m not starting anything,” she said, shrugging. “I’m just being the good sister who helped arrange this party, remember?” “I’m grateful,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I really am. Thank you.” “Yes, well, that’s what sisters are for,” she replied with a smirk, turning to glance around the lounge. “Even if one of them pretends not to like the other.” “I don’t hate you,” I said, looking her dead in the eyes. “I just don’t like how you turn everything into drama.” She smiled thinly. “Noted.” “Please, let’s not ruin today. Just for tonight, can we not do this?” Vivian held my gaze for a second, then looked away and took a sip of her drink. “Sure. For tonight.” She walked off slowly, hips swaying, her perfume trailing behind like a warning. I watched her leave the section and disappear out into the main club area. And I sighed. Vivian is my stepsister. We’ve lived under the same roof for years, but we’ve never really been close. After my mom died twenty years ago when I was just five, my dad remarried Lillian, Vivian’s mother. It wasn’t like the movies where new families magically click. Lillian was strict and overbearing, always carrying this air of quiet superiority. And Vivian, even as a child, mirrored her perfectly. Always knowing how to get what she wanted, always reminding me with a smile that they were the real family now. My dad did his best, I think. But he passed away not long after Vivian turned ten. I was only fifteen then. Since that day, it’s been just the three of us in the house. But it’s never felt like family. Lillian and Vivian have always been difficult. Loud, controlling, always reminding me this is their home, even when they smile through it. I’ve had nowhere else to go, so I’ve stayed, enduring their overbearing behavior silently. The club throbbed with bass and neon as the party went on. Bodies moved like waves across the dance floor, drenched in sweat and light. The air was thick with perfume, alcohol, and pulsing heat. I stood at the edge of the dance floor, anxiety buzzing beneath my skin, eyes scanning the blur of strangers. “Hey, birthday girl!” Linda’s voice cut through the noise, slicing clean through the haze as she squeezed my arm. Her cheeks were flushed, her glittery dress clinging to her like static. “Are you having fun? It’s time to cut the cake! Where’s Ryan?” I forced a tight smile, hoping it looked better than it felt. “He said he’d be right back.” But that was a lie. He’d been gone for more than an hour. I’d called him multiple times, but no answer, just silence and that sinking feeling in my gut. “You know what?” I said, waving Linda off gently. “I’ll just go look around for him.” She nodded and disappeared back into the VIP lounge. I slipped out quietly, weaving through the crowd with my phone clutched tightly in one hand, calling him again, but it went into voicemail. Again. I checked the bar first. No Ryan. I stepped out through the back exit into the cool night air, scanning the small smoking section, but he wasn’t there either. A sick, creeping sensation clawed up my spine. Where the hell was he? I turned back inside and wandered toward the far end of the club, near the restrooms. The crowd had thinned there, the music dimming just slightly as the speakers were positioned elsewhere. And then I heard it. “Can’t Stop the Feeling!” by Justin Timberlake. I froze mid-step. The bubbly beat echoed from somewhere nearby, and I knew that ringtone. Ryan’s ringtone. He loved that damn song so much he’d set it as his default, even when people teased him about it. My eyes shot to the restroom signs up ahead. One door read FEMALE in bold gold lettering. My heart jolted. Why would his phone be ringing in the women’s bathroom? I stood frozen, trying to rationalize it. Maybe someone picked it up by mistake. Maybe he dropped it. Maybe I was being paranoid. But then I heard a sound that made my blood turn cold. A laugh. Vivian’s laugh. I didn’t move. Couldn’t. Who was Vivian laughing with in the restroom? And why was Ryan’s phone also ringing at the same time? This isn’t a coincidence. Screw it. I’m going in. My legs moved before my brain could catch up. Kicking off my heels at the entrance, I crept silently into the dim, tiled corridor of the ladies’ restroom. It was quiet except for the faint sound of the music outside and the echo of voices behind one of the cubicles. “You’re so crazy, Ryan,” Vivian’s voice cooed, her tone thick with flirtation. My breath caught. No, it can’t be. My feet moved on their own, one step, then another, each one echoing off the tiles like a countdown to hell. “I’m crazy for you, Vi,” came Ryan’s voice, low, intimate, smooth like syrup. “You’re everything. Sweet in every damn way.” I felt my stomach drop, a sudden plummet that made my vision blur. Then his tone shifted, sharp and sour. “Not like Sophia. God, she’s just… useless. Always has been. Leeching off everyone like some helpless stray.” He scoffed. “Only reason I’ve tolerated her this long is because of her father’s property. Once that stuff’s settled…” He chuckled. Vivian’s voice came next, full of cruel delight. “I can’t wait to get rid of her. And once we do, we’ll have everything and inheritance will be ours.” Something inside me broke. I didn’t even realize I was shaking until I gripped the sink beside me for balance, the porcelain cold and unforgiving beneath my fingers. Their voices continued, laughing softly like it was just another game. I couldn’t hear the rest. Everything became a dull buzz, like I’d been submerged underwater. My mind blanked. My chest heaved. And then, the cubicle creaked open. Ryan stepped out first, grinning, his arm casually slung around Vivian’s neck like she belonged there. My breath hitched. I stumbled back, my heel striking the edge of the sink. The c***k echoed like a gunshot. Their eyes shot up to my direction and they froze. Their laughter died mid-note. Ryan’s smile vanished and his arm slipped from her neck. For one long, unbearable moment, no one moved. I stood there, barefoot on the bathroom floor, my fists trembling at my sides. I felt my throat close up, my chest squeezing tight around the rising scream I wouldn’t give them. My breath came in sharp, ragged gasps. The ache in my chest pulsed with every heartbeat. I tasted salt and realized I was crying. Ryan’s mouth moved like he wanted to explain, but no sound came out. Vivian’s face contorted, not in guilt, but something closer to annoyance. I stared at them like strangers. Like monsters. And then I found my voice. Barely a whisper, but it cut the air like glass. “Why?