A BABY FOR THE COLD HEARTED PRESIDENT

The lights were too bright. Elara Sinclair adjusted the thin strap of her dress as she stepped into the grand exhibition hall, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead like frozen stars, casting shimmering reflections across glass cases filled with priceless jewellery. This was it. Her chance. Her designs, her work, her sleepless nights, her sacrifice were finally here, displayed among the elite. But unlike the others, her name wasn’t known. Not yet. “Don’t mess this up,” a cold voice cut through her thoughts. Elara turned. Veronica Lang stood a few steps away, draped in a red gown that screamed wealth and superiority. Her lips curled into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re lucky to even be here,” Veronica continued, her tone dripping with mockery. “Try not to embarrass yourself.” Elara straightened, forcing calm into her voice. “I’m here because I earned it.” Veronica laughed softly. “We’ll see about that.” As she walked away, Elara felt a chill crawl up her spine. Something wasn’t right. Across the hall, whispers spread like wildfire. “The President is here…” “Kael… no, Adrian Kael…” “He never attends events like this…” Elara froze. The President? Her gaze instinctively lifted and there he was. Adrian Kael. Tall. Imposing. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that seemed almost too simple for someone of his status. But it wasn’t his appearance that commanded attention. It was his presence. The air around him felt… controlled. Cold. Untouchable. His sharp gray eyes swept across the room with quiet authority, and for a brief moment They landed on her. Elara’s breath hitched. Then just as quickly, he looked away. “Miss Sinclair?” A waitress appeared beside her, holding a tray of drinks. “Complimentary,” the girl said politely. Elara hesitated. Her nerves were already on edge. But refusing would draw attention. “Thank you,” she murmured, taking a glass. Across the room, Veronica watched. And smiled. The first sip burned. Strange. Elara frowned slightly, lowering the glass. The taste wasn’t right. But before she could think further, someone bumped into her lightly. “I’m so sorry,” a deep voice said. Her heart skipped. Adrian Kael. He steadied her instinctively, his hand brushing her arm for just a second too long. “It’s fine,” she said quickly, stepping back. But her balance faltered. The room tilted. Her vision blurred. What…? Adrian’s expression darkened almost instantly. He swayed slightly, his hand moving to his temple. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Across the hall, Veronica’s smile faded. Wait. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Her eyes darted between them. No. No, no, no He wasn’t supposed to drink that. Elara’s breathing became uneven. Her heart pounded violently in her chest as heat spread through her body, unfamiliar and overwhelming. She gripped the edge of a display table, trying to steady herself. “I… I need…” she whispered, but the words wouldn’t come. Her knees buckled. Strong arms caught her. Adrian. His grip was firm, his expression dangerously sharp now. “You’ve been drugged,” he said under his breath. Her eyes widened weakly. “You too…” she managed to say. His jaw clenched. “Damn it.” The music continued. The crowd laughed. No one noticed. Or maybe No one dared to. “Get us out of here,” Adrian ordered sharply to someone nearby. Within seconds, discreet security moved into action. No panic. No noise. Just quiet efficiency. Elara barely registered being lifted, her head spinning as the world faded in and out. Everything felt wrong. Her body burned. Her thoughts blurred. And the last thing she saw Was Veronica. Standing still. Watching. Her face pale. Darkness. The room was unfamiliar. Soft lights. Expensive décor. Silence. Elara’s eyes fluttered open, her body heavy, her mind fogged. She tried to move but her limbs felt like they weren’t hers. A presence beside her shifted. She turned slightly. And her heart stopped. Adrian Kael. Beside her. Too close. His shirt partially unbuttoned, his breathing uneven, his usually composed expression now strained with something raw. Something dangerous. “Stay back…” he said hoarsely, as if fighting himself. But the distance between them felt nonexistent. The drug. It wasn’t just something mild. It was something else. Something stronger. Something designed for one purpose. Elara’s pulse raced uncontrollably. “I can’t…” she whispered, her voice barely hers. Neither could he. The tension snapped. Hours later Silence. Heavy. Unforgiving. Morning light filtered through the curtains. Elara woke with a sharp inhale. Pain. Confusion. And then Memory. Her eyes widened. “No…” She turned. The bed beside her was empty. Cold. But the room still carried his presence. Her hands trembled as she sat up, reality crashing down on her. What had she done? A sudden knock echoed at the door. Sharp. Unexpected. Elara froze. Her heart began to pound again but this time, not from the drug. From fear. Who could possibly The door handle turned. The door creaked open And a man stepped in. Tall. Calm. Unfamiliar. But his eyes… They went straight to her. Like he had been looking for her all along.