Second meeting
1379 Words
Elena lay curled on her narrow bed, the thin blanket pulled up to her chin even though the apartment wasn’t cold. The nausea had eased a little, but exhaustion clung to her like damp clothes. The pregnancy test was still hidden in the bathroom trash, wrapped in toilet paper as if burying it could make it disappear. She stared at the cracked ceiling, tracing the familiar water stain that looked like a sad face. Her phone sat silent on the nightstand,Carla’s angry words still echoed in her head. Blind date. Marriage. Shame. If only her stepmother knew the shame was already here, real and growing.
A soft knock broke the quiet.
Elena froze. No one visited her. Not friends,college kept her too busy for that and definitely not family. She sat up slowly, heart picking up speed. Another knock, firmer this time.
“Who is it?” she called, voice thin.
No answer. Just silence, heavy with expectation.
She slipped off the bed, bare feet padding across the worn carpet.she cracked the door an inch, chain still on. Blue eyes met hers,sharp, cold, unmistakable. Alexander Voss stood on her doorstep, looking out of place in the dim hallway light, like a predator who’d wandered into the wrong territory.
Elena’s breath caught. Memories crashed over her, his hands, her pleas, the way he’d kept murmuring “I’ll take responsibility” while ignoring every “stop.” Rage and fear twisted together in her chest.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed.
“I need to talk to you.” His voice was low, controlled, but there was something underneath.guilt, maybe, or calculation. “Let me in. Please.”
She wanted to slam the door. Instead, her trembling hand unhooked the chain. She stepped back, arms crossed tight over her chest. “Five minutes. That’s all you get.”
He entered, ducking slightly under the low doorframe. The apartment seemed to shrink around him. He was taller than she remembered, broader, his presence filling the small space like smoke. His eyes swept the room in one slow, the sagging couch with its patched throw blanket, the tiny kitchenette with dishes drying on a rack, the stack of textbooks on the desk, the single lamp casting weak yellow light. No luxury. No excess. Just survival.
Elena watched him take it all in, cheeks burning with humiliation. This was her world small, messy, honest. And now he was in it.
He turned to face her. For a second, something flickered in his expression regret, perhaps but it vanished quickly, replaced by the cool mask she recognized from news photos.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For what happened that night. I was drugged. I wasn’t in control. But that’s no excuse. I should never have” He stopped, jaw tightening. “I came to make it right.”
Elena laughed, a short, bitter sound. “Make it right?”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek black credit card, holding it out like an offering. “There’s enough on here to cover whatever you need. Medical bills, rent, school. Take it. Use it. Consider it… compensation.”
She stared at the card, then at him. Heat rose in her throat. “Do I look like a thing you can just dispose of with money?”
His brow furrowed. “I’m trying to help.”
“You’re trying to buy silence.” She took a step forward, voice shaking with fury. “I’m pregnant, Alexander.”
The words hung between them like a slap.
He blinked once, twice. The color drained from his face. “Pregnant.”
“Yes.” She lifted her chin, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “Considering you… disvirgined me, as you so delicately put it in your head just now, yes. I’m pregnant.”
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “How far along?”
“Six weeks.
He stared at her stomach—still flat, no sign yet of what was growing inside. Then his eyes flicked back to hers. “You’re keeping it?”
“Yes.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ll give you money to… handle it. Quietly. No one has to know. You can go back to your life. Finish school. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
Elena felt something snap inside her,hot, bright, unstoppable.
“Abort it?” Her voice cracked on the word. “You think that’s what this is? A problem you can pay to make disappear?”
“I’m being practical,” he said, tone hardening. “A child changes everything. For both of us.”
“I’m not aborting my baby.” She stepped closer, close enough to see the faint scar above his eyebrow, the tension in his shoulders. “This child didn’t ask to be here. Neither did I. But I’m not going to erase them because it’s inconvenient for you.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re angry. I get it. But think about this logically. You’re twenty-two, living in a place like this, barely making ends meet. A baby will ruin your future.”
“My future?” She laughed again, sharper this time. “You already ruined part of it the night you ignored me begging you to stop. Don’t lecture me about my future.”
Silence stretched, thick and ugly.
Alexander studied her ,the fire in her dark eyes, the way she stood straight despite the fear, the quiet strength that hadn’t been there that night. Something shifted in his expression, a feeling of doubt. But then his mind turned inward, cold logic taking over.
She just wants fame, he thought. She wants to be under my name. She wants the money, the status, the headlines. “Billionaire’s Secret Baby” would sell papers for months. She’s playing the long game,keep the child, trap me into marriage or support. She’s after my wallet, just like everyone else.
He wasn’t ready for marriage. He’d never been ready. Relationships were liabilities; emotions were distractions. He’d built an empire by staying detached, by never letting anyone close enough to hurt him. A wife? A child? That was chaos. That was weakness.
“I’m not marrying you,” he said flatly. “If that’s what you’re hoping for.”
Elena’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “I never asked you to.”
“But you’re keeping the baby,” he countered. “Why? If not for leverage?”
“Because it’s a life,” she snapped. “Not a bargaining chip,Not a paycheck but a life.”
He shook his head slowly. “You don’t know what you’re signing up for.”
“I know exactly what I’m signing up for. Raising a child alone. Working harder. Sacrificing more. I’ve done it before after my mom died, I kept going. I’ll do it again.” Her voice dropped, fierce and low. “But I won’t do it with your money if it comes with strings. I won’t let you buy my silence or my child.”
Alexander felt a strange admiration or maybe irritation that she wasn’t folding like he’d expected. She was supposed to cry, take the card, disappear. Instead, she was staring him down in her tiny, small apartment like she was the one in control.
He slipped the card back into his pocket. “You’ll change your mind when the bills start piling up.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
He turned toward the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “If you need anything medical care, my assistant will handle it. Discreetly. No questions.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“You will,” he said quietly. “Eventually.”
Elena didn’t respond. She just watched him open the door, step into the hallway, and pull it closed behind him with a soft click.
The apartment felt colder the moment he was gone.
She sank onto the couch, knees weak, heart hammering. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not for him. Not tonight.
She placed a protective hand over her stomach. “We’re going to be okay,” she whispered. “Even if it’s just us.”
- Writer
