The Billionaire's Baby

The Billionaire's Baby-Chapter7

Oh no! How...What... Huh..

"Wondering where this came from?" My father sneered, flinging the box at me along with the two positive tests. "It came from your bedroom, Sophie!"

"Who's been in my room?" I could barely whisper, embarrassed. I wasn't ready to do that! I needed time to wrap my head around a little jelly bean!

"Ava found it while she was cleaning your bathroom." My father, Brandon Blake, replied oh so cool and calm, though his eyes told a different story.

"Is it true, Sophie?" my mother sobbed, turning her grass-green gaze to my own. "Please tell me you're not going to make me a grandmother at forty!"

I raised my eyebrows. My mother has been forty for over ten years now, miraculously! Though her birth certificate will confirm that she is actually fifty years old - not that she would ever admit it!

"It's true," I hung my head and fixed my gaze on my shoes, my father's gaze practically scorching my skin from my bones.

My brother's voice came next, "It better not be some drugged up rockstar's kid!"

"Drugged up rockstar?!" My mother squeaked and squealed into her handkerchief again.

"No, it's not." I stated, knowing that the drugged up rockstar would have been so much easier than... Julian Cruz.

"Who's the father?" my father demanded, taking my mother's hand to console her.

"So, like, are you getting rid of it?" Tamara piped up, popping the gum in her mouth while her perfectly manicured nails tapped away at her phone.

"After all, I am the baby of the family. That will f*ck everything up. Auntie sounds so old! I'm only eighteen, Sophie! How could you be so selfish!"

Selfish? It was the least selfish thing I'd ever done in my life! It was for them! They were the selfish ones, not me!

"Of course, she's having an abortion!" My father stormed, standing up from the table to address the family.

"But father, if she kept it, can you imagine the magazine deals we'd get?" my brother, Craig, murmured, his voice thoughtful. I looked at him and watched his brain imagine and pull up different scenarios.

His eyes probably changed to dollar signs for a slight second, I growled at myself.

Craig continued his trailing thoughts, "We'd get a TV series for sure! Especially if she goes into labour on it! And of course, once the kid comes along, everyone will want to see it on the covers of magazines. And then its modeling kids wear. The money will start rolling in!"

The blood drained from my face. No way would my child be paraded around a TV screen and camera.

My father disrupted my angry thoughts as he answered, "No. Its just another mouth to feed. Another one to be clad up in designer clothes and parade about. We can't afford it, Sophie. You'll have to get an abortion. It's simple, you silly girl."

"This is all your fault, Sophie!" My mother wailed, "You've created a life you now have to destroy!"

A noise escaped my throat and, with a sudden realization, tears began to pour down my cheeks and that sob threatened to escape my mouth from the moment the word 'abortion' was mentioned and was released.

Not my baby.

Why couldn't they realize what I'd done for them?

Another sob escaped my lips before I could stop it. My hand flew to my stomach as if to add an extra layer of protection to my baby.

"I'm not having an abortion." My voice was barely a whisper. "I'm not."

"Don't be so ridiculous!" My father boomed, slapping his hand on the table. "I'm telling you that you are having an abortion, and you will do as I say if you wish to remain under my roof!"

I would have replied if the doorbell had not rung with a loud and shrill noise.