Secret Baby for my CE0

2

I couldn’t breathe well. It was as if someone was strangling me. I tried so hard to breathe but I just couldn’t.

Wait, someone was actually strangling me. I woke up to big hands on my throat.

“Nor.. nom… norm…” I tried to call his name but he wouldn’t let go of my throat.

I tried to struggle but Norman's grip was too strong. I kicked my legs wildly but he didn't budge. My vision began to blur and I felt myself losing consciousness.

Just as I was about to slip away, Norman's hands suddenly released their grip on my throat. I gasped for air, my lungs burning from the lack of oxygen.

I looked up at Norman and his eyes were wild and unfocused. He was staring at me but I wasn’t sure he could see me.

"Norman, snap out of it!" I shouted, trying to shake him out of his trance-like state.

But he just kept staring at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and fear. I realized that he was still disoriented from his injuries and the alcohol.

I gently placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. "It's okay. You're safe now. Just relax."

Slowly, Norman's eyes began to focus and he looked at me. He took a deep breath and his body relaxed.

Suddenly Norman's eyes narrowed, and he growled, "Who are you?"

“I’m… I’m…. I’m…..” I stuttered.

What exactly was I supposed to say? Do I tell him that I’m the girl he met at a bar 4 years ago? Would he remember the night we spent together? The night that resulted in the birth of our daughter, Ava?

But then he lied to me. Lied to me about who he was when we met.

Only for me to find out last year who he truly was. The news of the former CEO of Grey and Carter’s passing sent shockwaves and shortly after, Norman was appointed as the new CEO.

“Are you going to keep staring at me all day?” Norman’s irritable voice cut into my thoughts.

I took a deep breath, pushing down the whirlwind of emotions threatening to surface. He was impatient.

“I’m the one who just saved your life,” I said lightly, crossing my arms.

Norman frowned. He lifted a hand to his temple, wincing as if trying to piece together scattered memories. “Where am I?”

“My house,” I said simply.

His eyes darted around the dimly lit living room, scanning the blankets, the first aid kit on the floor, the faint bloodstains on the rug. He asked. “Why?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Because you collapsed at my door, bleeding like hell. I stitched you up. You should be thanking me, not looking at me like I’m your enemy.”

Norman struggled to sit up. He barely got halfway before he yelped in pain, forcing him to lie back down. His breathing was labored.

“Who did this to you?” I asked, watching him closely.

He exhaled sharply, tilting his head back against the couch. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if they’re coming here next.”

His eyes snapped to mine. A flicker of something—alarm?—crossed his face before he hid it. “No one’s coming,” he said, a bit too quickly.

I narrowed my eyes. “You sure about that?”

He didn’t answer. I felt he was hiding something.

Before I could press further, he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of pain hit him. I watched as he clenched his fists and his body became stiff.

“You should rest,” I said finally. “You’re no good to anyone like this.”

“I’m fine.”

I scoffed. “You were choking me in your sleep five minutes ago. You’re not fine.”

Norman’s lips pressed into a thin line. He looked down at his hands, flexing them as if testing his own strength. There was a distant look in his eyes, like his mind was somewhere else.

Norman looked up at me. For a moment he just stared, then he frowned.

“How do you know my name?” His voice was rough and I could detect the demand in it. The voice of a man that was used to getting whatever he wanted.

“Your face has been all over the news ever since the death of the CEO of Grey and Carter” I said. “Hard not to recognize you.”

He studied me, his expression unreadable but I refused to look away.

Finally he leaned back slightly. “My father,” he said flatly.

I blinked. “What?”

“The dead CEO,”his tone was void of emotions. “That was my father.”

Norman pinched the bridge of his nose as if the entire situation was an inconvenience to him. “I know you from somewhere.”

I tensed. Does he remember?

I forced a confused look. “Where do you think you know me from?”

He studied me like I was some puzzle he needed to solve. “I don’t know. But there’s something…very familiar.” He waved a hand in my direction. “It’ll come to me.”

I scoffed. “Well, let me save you the trouble. You don’t know me.”

He smirked but there was no warmth in it. “You sound pretty sure about that.”

“I would remember if we met.” That was a lie. A bold one.

He moved his head to the left, watching me, his lips curling slightly as if he was trying to decide whether I was lying. “I have a good memory,” he mused, his voice laced with arrogance. “Faces. Names. Details. It’s what makes me the best at what I do.”

“The best?” I raised a brow.

His smirk widened. “Did I stutter?”

I wished I could slap it off his face.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you stitched me up and let me sleep on your floor,” he said lazily, stretching his uninjured arm over the back of the couch. “Which means you’re either very kind… or very stupid.”

My fists clenched at his tone. Arrogant. Dismissive. Like he was the smartest person in the room. As though I was beneath him.

I crossed my arms again. “Or maybe I just didn’t want a dead man on my porch.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

I wanted to throw something at him. The only thing stopping me was the fact that he was injured.

He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling as if the conversation had already bored him. “If we have met, it was probably in passing. I’ve been to a lot of places. Met a lot of people. Women especially.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. He was testing me. I wouldn’t give him the reaction he wanted.

“Well,” I said, forcing a casual tone, “if you ever figure it out, do let me know.”

He smirked again but didn’t respond.

For a moment, there was silence between us. I considered getting up and leaving him to rest, but then before I could say anything, a loud BANG echoed from outside.

My breath caught in my throat. That wasn’t just the wind.

Norman stiffened. He looked at the door. Then, slowly, he turned back to me.

“Turn off the lights,” he said.

“You said no one’s coming,” I said slowly. “That you weren’t in danger.”

Norman didn’t blink.

I swallowed. “Were you lying?”

He looked me dead in the eye and said, “I think you should check the doors.”