The billionaire's runaway baby mama

***Luna's POV*** Positive. The two bright red lines on the pregnancy test refused to disappear no matter how long I stared at them. My hands trembled so badly that I nearly dropped the test kit into the sink. My heart slammed painfully against my chest, making it difficult to breathe properly. It felt as though the bathroom walls were slowly closing in around me. “No,” I whispered weakly, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. This could not be happening. I had already taken two tests before this one. Deep down, I already knew what the result would be, but a stubborn part of me had still clung to hope, praying the others had somehow been wrong. But now there were three. Three positive tests. Three confirmations that my life had changed forever. My fingers loosened, and I tossed the test kit into the trash can beside the sink as though it had burned me. I quickly turned on the faucet and splashed cold water against my face, but the icy droplets did nothing to calm the panic building inside me. Gripping the edge of the sink tightly, I forced myself to look into the mirror. The woman staring back at me barely looked familiar. My skin was pale and dull. Dark circles rested beneath my eyes from days of sleepless nights, and the brightness that usually filled my eyes had completely disappeared. I looked exhausted, worn down, and broken. Maybe I was. My gaze slowly drifted toward the trash can. Pregnant. The word echoed endlessly inside my mind, and suddenly a violent wave of nausea hit me. I covered my mouth and rushed toward the toilet, dropping to my knees as my stomach twisted painfully. Nothing came out because I had already thrown up everything earlier that morning, yet the sickness refused to leave me. The dizziness remained. The nausea remained. The fear remained. Leaning weakly against the bathroom wall, I closed my eyes as tears burned behind them. What was I supposed to do now? How was I supposed to explain this? The questions kept attacking me one after another, but among all the fears tormenting me, one stood above the rest. I did not know who the father was. The thought alone made my stomach churn again. If I knew who I had slept with, maybe this situation would have been easier to face. At least I would have had answers. Instead, all I had was uncertainty. Two weeks ago, my life had been completely normal. Two weeks ago, I had been happy and in love. Then everything fell apart. That single day destroyed me. Not only had I discovered my boyfriend’s betrayal, but somehow, through a series of horrible decisions, I had ended up sleeping with a stranger whose face I could barely remember. The memory made tears spill down my cheeks. If I had known that night would become the worst mistake of my life, I never would have gone to that hotel. If I had known one bottle of champagne would be enough to cloud my judgment and destroy my future, I never would have taken a single sip. But I had not known. And now I was paying the price. ***Two Weeks Earlier*** I stared at my phone screen as the call disconnected once again. “Hey, it’s Carol. Please leave your message after the beep.” The recorded message had become painfully familiar. With a frustrated sigh, I ended the call and dialed his number again. No answer. Again. Nothing. I tightened my grip around the phone as irritation slowly mixed with worry. I had already called Carol five times and sent nearly twenty messages, yet not a single reply came back. Not one explanation. Not even a simple text. Lowering my phone, I walked toward the large floor-to-ceiling window inside the luxurious hotel suite. Outside, Seoul glittered beneath the night sky. Thousands of lights sparkled across the city like stars scattered over darkness. The view should have felt romantic, but instead, it only made me feel lonely. I checked the time again. 8:40 PM. My stomach twisted nervously. Where was he? I had booked this suite weeks ago. I had spent hours preparing everything for tonight because this was supposed to be special. Tonight marked two years since Carol and I started dating. I had imagined this evening so many times. I pictured the smile on his face when he walked through the door. I imagined us laughing together while celebrating our anniversary in the most beautiful way possible. But Carol was nowhere to be found. He was not answering his phone, and I had no idea why. I paced around the room restlessly while trying to calm myself. Maybe he was stuck in traffic. Maybe his phone battery died. Maybe something important came up. A notification suddenly interrupted my thoughts, making my heart jump. I grabbed my phone immediately, only to feel disappointment wash over me when I saw the sender’s name. Amelia. Not Carol. I opened the message. Amelia: Sorry, love. I’ve been moved to Entrance Four. I haven’t seen Carol anywhere. Is he with you? I sighed before typing my reply. Me: No. He’s not here yet. Honestly, I don’t even know if he’s coming anymore. Her response arrived seconds later. Amelia: That i***t. Making you wait alone on your anniversary? If I see him tomorrow, I’m going to kill him. Despite everything, a small smile appeared on my lips. Amelia always knew how to make me feel better. We continued chatting for a while until she had to return to work. Once the conversation ended, the silence inside the suite returned, and so did my growing anxiety. When I checked the time again, it was already 9:52 PM. Nearly ten o’clock. Still no sign of Carol. The excitement I had felt earlier slowly disappeared, replaced by anger, disappointment, and heartbreak. I suddenly felt foolish. Embarrassed. Like someone who had been forgotten. Or worse, someone who was never important enough to remember. My eyes slowly wandered around the suite. Earlier, the room had looked magical. Now it only looked sad. The candles I lit hours ago had already melted halfway down. Balloons floated lazily near the ceiling while rose petals covered the bed. A large anniversary cake sat untouched on the coffee table. Everything I prepared so carefully suddenly felt meaningless. Five hours. I had spent five entire hours decorating this room by myself. Five hours imagining the perfect night. Five hours waiting for someone who never came. My jaw tightened. “To hell with him,” I muttered bitterly. Without thinking twice, I grabbed one of the champagne bottles and twisted it open. The sharp pop echoed through the suite as I lifted the bottle to my lips and drank directly from it. At first, the champagne tasted sweet. Then it burned. But I kept drinking because the more alcohol entered my system, the less I wanted to think. The less I wanted to feel. Tears blurred my vision as I reached for another bottle. If tonight was already ruined, then at least the expensive champagne would not go to waste. My gaze drifted toward the anniversary cake. HAPPY SECOND ANNIVERSARY, LOVE. The words stabbed painfully at my chest. Laughing bitterly, I reached forward and wiped away part of the writing with my finger before licking the frosting off slowly. This was not how I imagined tonight at all. Soft jazz music continued flowing through the speakers while I took another drink. Then another. Soon, the music sounded louder. The room felt warmer. My thoughts became hazy and unfocused. I rose from the couch and began swaying along with the music. At first, I simply moved slowly. Then I started spinning around the room. Then I laughed. I danced alone inside the suite while singing lyrics I barely remembered and pretending I did not care that my boyfriend had abandoned me on our anniversary. For a little while, the alcohol numbed everything. Then suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the suite. I froze instantly. Another knock followed, louder this time. My heart leaped with relief. Carol. It had to be him. I knew he would come eventually. I knew there had to be an explanation. The anger I had been holding onto slowly melted away as excitement rushed through me again. Smiling drunkenly, I wiped frosting from my fingers and stumbled toward the door. The room spun slightly around me, but I did not care. Carol was finally here. I unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Carol?” to be continued....