HATED BY MY FIRST LOVE PREGNANT FOR HIS RIVAL

Chapter 3: The Stepsister’s Venom

Vanessa's POV

It had been two months since I started working for James, and every day felt like hell. It was also two months since that night with the masked stranger—a night I tried to forget but could still feel in my bones.

"Vanessa! My latte is cold!" Mirabel shouted from her office.

I walked in, taking a deep breath. "I just brought it to you, Mirabel."

"Well, it's not right. Go get another one," she said, not looking up from her vanity mirror. As I turned to leave, she stood up quickly, "accidentally" bumping into my arm.

The latte splashed all over my only good white blouse, the hot liquid soaking through the fabric.

"Oh! Look at what you've done!" She gasped, though her eyes were shining with spite.

"You’re so clumsy, Vanessa. You can’t go to the board dinner looking like a homeless person."

I looked at the brown stain spreading over my chest. "You did that on purpose."

"Don't be dramatic," she sneered. "Now go clean up. James expects us at the penthouse for dinner in an hour. Since you’re a mess, you can just help the catering staff. It’s a better fit for you anyway."

The dinner was a nightmare. Instead of taking notes as a PA, James made me wear an apron and serve drinks. I had to watch him laugh and whisper to Mirabel while I cleared their dirty plates. The board members looked at me like I was invisible, just another hired hand.

"Is the wine not to your liking, James?" Mirabel asked loudly, glancing at me. "Maybe Vanessa can fetch you a better bottle from the cellar. She’s used to running errands."

James didn't look at me. "She knows the way."

By midnight, the guests finally left. I was exhausted, my feet throbbing from standing all night. I sat on the small sofa in the corner, waiting for James to dismiss me.

"We're going upstairs," James said, loosening his tie. He didn't look at my tired face. "Clean up the documents in the study before you lock up. And don't forget to set the alarm."

I watched them walk up the stairs together. Mirabel leaned into him, throwing a smug look over her shoulder at me before the bedroom door shut. The silence of the penthouse felt heavy.

I walked into his study to gather the papers. His laptop was sitting on the desk, still logged in. I went to close it, but a folder caught my eye: "Confidential Projects - Q4."

My heart hammered. After two months of being treated like a slave, a spark of anger finally lit up inside me. I wasn't just going to be their victim. I pulled a USB drive from my bag and plugged it in.

Copying... 50%... 90%... Complete.

I tucked the drive safely into my pocket. I didn't know how I’d use it yet, but I knew I needed leverage.

As I left the building and headed for the subway, a sudden wave of nausea hit me. The smell of the damp street made my stomach churn. I barely made it to a trash can before I was sick.

I wiped my mouth, trembling. I pulled out my phone and checked the calendar.

"Two months," I whispered, my heart freezing.

I rushed to a nearby pharmacy and got a pregnancy test strip, and went into their restroom as I couldn't wait to get home.

I stared at the test longer than I needed to.

Two lines.

The room didn’t spin. I didn’t cry. I just sat there, understanding that my life had shifted in a way I couldn’t undo.

“I'm two months late. This can't be happening, I can't be pregnant."

I kept reciting the mantra in my head, as if I repeated it, my reality would change.

I leaned against the cold brick wall, my hand trembling as I touched my stomach. The secret files in my pocket were dangerous, but the secret in my womb was life-changing.