The Billionaire's Son: Pregnant with My Ex's Baby

Chapter 4

[Ethan]

The moment I saw him, I knew. It was like looking into a mirror of my past, a living, breathing reminder of everything I'd lost. The boy – Oliver – was the spitting image of me at that age, from the unruly dark curls to the mischievous glint in his brown eyes. My eyes.

My son.

The realization hit me like a sucker punch, leaving me winded and off-balance. How could I have missed this? How could Ava have kept this from me for five long years?

As I watched Ava lead Oliver away, my mind raced with a thousand questions, each more painful than the last. Why hadn't she told me? Did she really hate me so much that she'd deny me the chance to know my own child?

The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface since I first spotted Ava across the ballroom now threatened to boil over. With a clenched jaw, I strode after them, my long legs eating up the distance between us.

"Ava," I called out, my voice low and controlled despite the storm raging inside me. "We need to talk. Now."

She turned slowly, her emerald eyes wary as they met mine. God, she was still breathtakingly beautiful. The years had only enhanced her allure, adding a maturity and confidence that made my pulse quicken despite my anger.

"Ethan, this isn't the time or place," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes darted around the crowded ballroom, clearly aware of the attention we were attracting.

I stepped closer, invading her personal space in a way I knew would unsettle her. "Make time," I growled. "Or I swear to God, Ava, I'll make a scene right here in front of everyone."

A flicker of fear passed through her eyes, quickly replaced by defiance. "Fine," she hissed. "But not in front of Oliver."

I nodded curtly, then turned to Zara, who had been hovering nearby with a concerned expression. "Zara, would you mind watching Oliver for a few minutes? Ava and I need to discuss some... business matters."

Zara's eyes darted between us, understanding dawning in their depths. She'd always been too perceptive for her own good. "Of course, Mr. Blackwood. Come on, Oliver. Let's go see if we can find some more of those cookies you like."

As Zara led Oliver away, I placed my hand on the small of Ava's back, guiding her towards a secluded alcove off the main ballroom. The heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress sent a jolt of electricity through me, a reminder of the passion we'd once shared.

Once we were hidden from prying eyes, I rounded on her, barely containing my fury. "How could you, Ava? How could you keep my son from me for five goddamn years?"

Ava lifted her chin defiantly, her eyes flashing with a fire I remembered all too well. "Don't act like you have any right to be angry, Ethan. You lost that right when you betrayed me."

Her words caught me off guard. "Betrayed you? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "Don't insult my intelligence. I know about the other women, Ethan. The late nights at the office, the lipstick on your collar. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

I stared at her in disbelief, my mind reeling. "Other women? Ava, there were never any other women. You were it for me. You still are."

For a moment, uncertainty flickered in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by steely resolve. "Save your lies, Ethan. I'm not that naive girl you married anymore."

The bitterness in her voice cut deep, but I pressed on. "I'm not lying, Ava. I've never been unfaithful to you. Not once. Not ever."

She shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. "Right. So I suppose all those nights you came home late, reeking of perfume that wasn't mine, were just innocent business meetings?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, frustration mounting. "Christ, Ava, do you have any idea how many schmoozing sessions I had to endure to close those deals? How many vapid socialites I had to dance with at charity events? But that's all it ever was – business."

Ava's eyes narrowed, searching my face for any sign of deception. "And the lipstick on your collar?"

I ran a hand through my hair, exasperated. "Probably from one of those air-kiss greetings those women are so fond of. I swear to you, Ava, I never touched another woman. Not while we were married, not after our divorce. Hell, not even before I met you."

A flicker of doubt crossed her face, and for a moment, I dared to hope she might believe me. But then her expression hardened once more. "Even if that's true, it doesn't change the fact that you were never there, Ethan. You were so caught up in your empire-building that you forgot about us. About me."

Her words hit home, and I felt a pang of guilt. She wasn't entirely wrong. I had been consumed by work in those final months of our marriage, driven by a desperate need to prove myself worthy of her. But I'd never imagined she'd interpret my absence as infidelity.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, surprising us both with my sincerity. "I know I wasn't the husband you deserved back then. But Ava, keeping my son from me... that's unforgivable."

She flinched as if I'd struck her, and I saw a flicker of guilt in her eyes before she masked it with anger once more. "I did what I had to do to protect my child."

"Our child," I corrected, my voice hard. "He's our son, Ava. And I've missed five years of his life because of your misguided assumptions."

Ava's lower lip trembled, and for a moment, I saw a glimpse of the vulnerable woman I'd fallen in love with all those years ago. "I thought... I thought I was doing the right thing. I couldn't bear the idea of Oliver growing up with a father who didn't want him, who might hurt him the way I thought you'd hurt me."

Her admission sucked the air from my lungs. Is that really what she'd thought of me? That I was capable of abandoning my own child?

"Ava," I said, my voice softening as I took a step closer. "I would have moved heaven and earth for that boy if I'd known about him. Hell, I would have done the same for you if you'd just given me the chance."

She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I was scared, Ethan. Scared and hurt and... God, I've made such a mess of everything."

Without thinking, I reached out and cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "We both have," I murmured. "But it's not too late to fix it."

For a moment, we stood there, frozen in time. The air between us crackled with unresolved tension, years of hurt and longing and desire threatening to ignite at the slightest spark. I found myself leaning in, drawn by the magnetic pull that had always existed between us.

But then reality came crashing back as Oliver's laughter echoed from the ballroom. Ava jerked away as if burned, and I let my hand fall to my side.

"This doesn't change anything," she said, her voice shaky but determined. "Oliver is my priority now. I won't let you waltz back into our lives and turn everything upside down."

I felt my jaw clench, frustration warring with the need to tread carefully. "He's my son too, Ava. I have rights."

"Rights you didn't even know existed until an hour ago," she shot back. "You can't just—"

"Mommy?" Oliver's voice interrupted our heated exchange. We both turned to see him standing at the entrance to the alcove, his big brown eyes – my eyes – wide with curiosity. "Are you and Mr. Ethan fighting?"

Ava's expression softened immediately as she knelt down to Oliver's level. "No, sweetheart. We were just having a grown-up discussion. Nothing for you to worry about."

I watched as she smoothed down his unruly curls, my heart aching at the easy affection between them. This was what I'd missed out on for five years. Bedtime stories, skinned knees, first words, first steps. A lifetime of moments I could never get back.

"Actually, Oliver," I said, crouching down beside Ava. "Your mom and I were just talking about how much fun we're going to have at brunch tomorrow. Isn't that right, Ava?"

I met her gaze, silently daring her to contradict me. After a moment of tense silence, she nodded. "That's right. We're all going to have a nice brunch together."

Oliver's face lit up with a grin that was pure Ava. "Really? Awesome! Can we have pancakes? With extra chocolate chips?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Absolutely, buddy. All the chocolate chips you can eat."

As Oliver cheered, I saw Ava's expression soften slightly. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like if we were a real family – Ava, Oliver, and me, sharing lazy Sunday brunches and creating the memories we'd been robbed of these past five years.

But as quickly as the moment came, it passed. Ava stood, smoothing down her dress with trembling hands. "We should be going," she said, her voice carefully controlled. "It's way past someone's bedtime."

I rose as well, towering over both of them. "Of course. I'll have the car brought around for you."

"That's not necessary," Ava started to protest, but I cut her off.

"I insist," I said, my tone brooking no argument. "It's the least I can do."

As we walked back into the ballroom, Oliver between us, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything had changed. The world had tilted on its axis, and nothing would ever be the same again.

"I'll see you both tomorrow at eleven," I said as we reached the hotel's grand entrance. "Don't be late."

Ava nodded stiffly, but Oliver gave me an enthusiastic wave. "Bye, Mr. Ethan! See you tomorrow!"

As I watched them climb into the waiting car, a mix of emotions churned in my gut. Anger at Ava for keeping Oliver from me. Joy at discovering I had a son. And underneath it all, a dangerous flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could win back the family I'd never known I had.

One thing was certain – I wasn't about to let Ava Sinclair slip away from me again. Not without a fight.

As the car pulled away, I turned back to the hotel, my mind already racing with plans. Tomorrow's brunch would be just the beginning. I had five years of fatherhood to make up for, and I'd be damned if I let anything – or anyone – stand in my way.

"Game on, Ava," I muttered under my breath. "Game on."