The Billionaire’s Accidental Baby

Chapter 10: The Offer

Isla POV

I sit at my desk, grading spelling tests. The classroom is mostly dark. The only light comes from the dim gold glow of my small desk lamp.

Ping.

A notification pops up on my laptop screen. I look closer. The sender is Harper Sinclair, an attorney at Sterling & Ashford. The subject line reads: Proposed Co-Parenting Agreement Formal Terms.

I click the email open. The text appears on the screen:

Ms. Vance,

Please find attached the formal terms for the proposed co-parenting agreement, drafted on behalf of our client, Mr. James Moretti.

Please note that Sterling & Ashford represents Mr. Moretti exclusively. You are strongly advised to have your own legal counsel review this eleven-page document before signing.

Sincerely,

Harper Sinclair

My eyes scan down to the attached PDF. I scroll through the pages. Clauses for financial support fill the first page. Complete medical coverage forms the second page. Complex security arrangements take up the next three pages.

I stare at the digital signature line as my blood begins to boil.

"Who does this i***t think he is?" I whisper into the empty classroom.

I pull my bag onto the desk and dig through it furiously. My fingers brush against a crisp business card. I pull it out: James Moretti. Moretti Enterprises.

I grab my phone, dial the number, and press it to my ear.

"Moretti Enterprises, office of the CEO," a polite voice answers. "How may I direct your call?"

"I need to speak with Mr. Moretti," I say, my voice shaking. "It is urgent."

"May I ask who is calling, please?"

"Isla Vance."

"One moment, Ms. Vance. Please hold."

Classical music plays through the receiver. I pace the floor behind my desk, counting the seconds. Suddenly, the music cuts out. The line clicks. A deep, sharp voice rings out through the speaker.

"What," James says.

"Do you take me for a fool?" I snap, gripping the phone tighter. "Do you think I am just some object you can push around? Who do you think you are, sending me an eleven-page contract like you own me?"

On the other end of the line, James lets out a low, dark laugh.

I pull the phone away from my ear, staring at it, completely baffled by his reaction. I press it back to my ear. "Are you seriously laughing right now?"

"You are carrying my child, Isla, in case you have forgotten," James says. "That is my heir. The Moretti heir. If you think you have any choices in the decisions I make regarding my child, you have a very rude awakening coming for you."

"It is also my child!" I shout into the receiver.

James chuckles again. "It is more of my child than it is yours."

"You know what? Fine!" I scream back, my anger taking over completely. "Name your price! Let it be! I am buying your semen! Tell me how much I should pay you right now! You can always take your other samples, hire a surrogate, and get her to carry your child!"

The line goes completely silent.

I pull the phone away and check the screen. The call time is still ticking. He didn't cut the line; he is still there. I press the phone back against my ear.

"Hello?" I say into the quiet. "Are you there?"

"Isla," James says finally, his voice dropped to a deadly, quiet whisper. "Do you honestly think you are richer than me?"

I freeze.

"I can buy your entire academy in the blink of an eye," James threatens softly. "I can take your job. I can take your home. I can make every single person around you suffer the consequences of your actions. Do not push me."

My throat goes completely dry. I grip the edge of my desk, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I" I stammer. "I am sorry."

"Sign the paper," James says flatly. "That is all I need from you."

Click.

He hangs up. I drop my hands onto the desk, staring at the wall in total shock.

******

That night, the paper sits on Ruby’s kitchen table. The house is quiet. Ruby stands behind me with her arms crossed over her chest, reading the pages over my shoulder.

"It is very generous, Isla," Ruby says softly, pointing at the numbers.

"It's just a spreadsheet without feelings," I say, looking at the cold words.

Ruby lets out a small breath, almost a smile, but she stops herself. "Do you think he means what he said on the phone?"

"He has the money to do it," I tell her, rubbing my face. "He looks at everything like an acquisition. I am not signing this yet."

The next morning, I sit on the very edge of a brown fabric couch. The office is small and clean, looking out over a gravel parking lot. Dr. Yuki Tanaka sits across from me. She has kind eyes and does not rush to break the silence.

"I don't know what I am doing," I say, folding my hands so tight my knuckles turn white. "I feel like I am completely losing my mind."

"Tell me what happened, Isla," Dr. Tanaka says gently. "Start from the beginning."

"It started with a pregnancy test in a hotel bathroom," I say, my voice cracking as the first tear spills over. "But really, it started way before that. It started with every single IVF cycle. Dylan made me feel like a failure every time the test was negative. He would look at me with this quiet, disappointed disgust, like my body was a broken machine. I apologized to him. I actually begged his forgiveness for not being able to get pregnant, while I was quietly draining my entire life savings into his real estate business just to keep him afloat."

"You supported him financially?" Dr. Tanaka asks, leaning forward.

"I practically ran his company with my money," I say, a bitter sob escaping my throat. "I paid his payroll. I paid for our groceries. And yet, his family always treated me like I was some low-class charity case. At Thanksgiving, his mother would make comments about my parents being simple, working-class people, while her precious son was literally feeding off my paycheck. I was paying for their dinners, and they looked down on me. I stayed silent because I wanted to be a good wife. I wanted to keep the peace."