Divorced and Pregnant with the Billionaire’s  Heir

Elena's POV "Sign here, Miss Moore." The lawyer's pen scratched across the mahogany desk, pointing to a line at the bottom of page twelve. Rain hammered against the windows of the office, each drop echoing like a judgment in the silence. My hand trembled as I picked up the gold-plated pen. Midnight. Who signs marriage contracts at midnight? I glanced at the man sitting across from me. Sebastian Vale. Billionaire. Ice personified. He hadn't looked at me once since I'd entered this office twenty minutes ago. His fingers drummed against the armrest of his leather chair, the only sign he was even alive. Dark hair swept back from a face that could've been carved from marble. Sharp jaw. Cold eyes. The kind of handsome that felt dangerous. "Miss Moore?" The lawyer's voice cut through my thoughts. "I'm reading it," I said, though the words blurred together on the page. One-year marriage. No emotional attachment. No claims of love. No displays of jealousy. The wife must never attempt to claim the husband's heart. Divorce will be granted on demand by either party. My throat tightened. This wasn't a marriage contract. This was a business transaction. And I was the product being purchased. "Do you have any questions about the terms?" The lawyer adjusted his glasses, looking bored. Like this was just another Tuesday night for him. I had a thousand questions. Why me? Why this? Why did Sebastian Vale need a wife so badly he'd pay three million dollars for one? But I knew the only answer that mattered. My mother had three months to live without the surgery. The hospital bills were drowning me. The debt collectors called seventeen times a day. I was out of options. I was out of everything except desperation. "No questions," I whispered. "Then sign." The pen felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. I pressed it to paper, and my name flowed out in shaky letters. Elena Moore. For the last time. "Mr. Vale?" Sebastian finally moved. He leaned forward, and for one brief moment, his eyes met mine. Gray. Storm-cloud gray. They swept across my face with an intensity that made my breath catch. His gaze lingered on my cheekbones, my eyes, my lips. Studying me like I was a painting he was trying to authenticate. Then something flickered in his expression. Recognition? Satisfaction? It vanished before I could name it. He took the pen from my hand without touching my fingers and signed his name in bold, confident strokes. Sebastian Vale. The man who now owned me for the next twelve months. "Congratulations," the lawyer said with zero enthusiasm. "You're married." Married. The word felt like a stone in my stomach. Sebastian stood, buttoning his black suit jacket. "The car is waiting." "Now?" I blinked up at him. "You want me to go with you now?" "You're my wife." His voice was flat, emotionless. "Where else would you go?" Right. Because I'd already given up my apartment. Already packed my pathetic life into two suitcases. Already burned every bridge to get to this moment. I grabbed my purse with shaking hands and followed him out of the office. The Mercedes waiting outside was the kind of car I'd only seen in magazines. Black, sleek, probably worth more than I'd earn in ten lifetimes. The driver opened the door, and I slid into leather seats that felt like butter. Sebastian got in beside me, maintaining a careful distance. The space between us felt like an ocean. The drive to his mansion took forty minutes. Forty minutes of silence so thick I could barely breathe. I watched the rain race down the window and wondered what the hell I'd just done. "You resemble her." Sebastian's voice cut through the quiet. "Enough." I turned to look at him. "What?" "The reason I chose you." He still wasn't looking at me. His eyes were fixed on something outside, something I couldn't see. "You resemble her enough." Ice flooded my veins. "Resemble who?" "That's not your concern." "You just told me I look like someone," I said, anger flaring in my chest. "I think that makes it my concern." His jaw tightened. "You signed the contract. The reasons behind it are mine alone." I wanted to scream. To demand answers. But what good would it do? I'd already sold myself. The deal was done. The mansion appeared through the rain like something from a gothic novel. All stone and iron gates and windows that gleamed like watching eyes. The driver pulled up to the entrance, and Sebastian got out without waiting for me. I followed him inside, my wet shoes squeaking on marble floors. "Mrs. Chen will show you to your room," Sebastian said, gesturing to a woman in her fifties who appeared from nowhere. "Your belongings have already been brought up." "My room?" I repeated. "We're not..." "Sharing a room?" He finally looked at me directly, and his eyes were colder than the rain outside. "No, Miss Moore. We are not." "It's Mrs. Vale now," I said quietly. Something dangerous flashed across his face. "Don't. Don't use that name like it means something." Mrs. Chen cleared her throat. "This way, ma'am." I followed her up a grand staircase, through hallways lined with art that probably cost more than my mother's medical bills. She stopped at a door near the end of the corridor. "This is your room. The master bedroom is at the other end of the hall. Mr. Vale prefers privacy." She left me there. I pushed open the door to find a room three times the size of my old apartment. King bed. Sitting area. Windows overlooking gardens I couldn't see in the dark. My two suitcases sat in the corner, looking as out of place as I felt. I walked to the window, pressing my forehead against the cold glass. What had I done? Sold myself to a man who wanted me only because I looked like someone else. Signed away a year of my life. Become a ghost in a mansion. And then I heard it. Footsteps in the hallway. Sebastian's voice, cold and commanding. "You are my wife only in name. Don't mistake kindness for affection." He was talking to me, though he stood in the doorway. When I turned, he was already walking away. His wedding night exit. I stood alone in my beautiful prison, tears burning my eyes. But I didn't cry. Not yet. Instead, I walked back into the hallway. I needed to understand. I needed to know who I was supposed to replace. The mansion was a maze, but I wandered until I found it. A door at the far end of the east wing. Different from the others. Heavier. With a lock that looked recently installed. I shouldn't. I knew I shouldn't. But my hand was already on the handle. And when it turned, unlocked, I pushed it open. The room was dark. I felt for a light switch. And then I saw them.BPhotos. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. Covering every wall. All of the same woman. Dark hair. High cheekbones. Hazel eyes. My face. No. Her face. But God, we could've been twins. I stepped closer, my heart hammering. In some photos she was laughing. In others, serious. In one, she wore a wedding dress. "Who are you?" I whispered to the pictures. And somewhere in the mansion, I heard a door slam shut.