Chapter 5 The First Kick
434 Words
Day 18 of my penthouse prison.
Vanessa had been parading around Kane Tower for a week. “Mrs. Kane” to the board. “The future mother of the heir” to the press.
I was in the south wing. Forgotten. Erased.
Until 3AM, when the pain hit.
Not pain. A flutter. Like a tiny fish flipping inside me.
Then a kick. Hard. Real.
“Baby?” I whispered, hands on my stomach.
Another kick. Answering me.
I didn’t realize I was crying until the door burst open.
Adrian. He never came to the south wing. Never.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was sharp. Panic? “The cameras showed you—”
“He kicked.” The words tumbled out. “Our baby kicked, Adrian.”
He froze. All 6’3” of ruthless CEO, frozen by two words.
“Impossible. It’s too early.” But his eyes dropped to my stomach.
“Feel.” I grabbed his hand before I could think.
For once, he didn’t pull away.
I pressed his huge, cold palm to my stomach, right over where the flutter was.
We waited. One second. Two.
Then it happened.
A strong kick right into his palm.
Adrian Kane, the man who bought hospitals and crushed empires, flinched like he’d been shot.
His face did something terrifying.
It broke.
“This…” His voice was hoarse. “This is my son?”
“Our son,” I corrected, heart pounding.
He dropped to his knees. On the floor. In his N2 million suit. His ear pressed to my stomach like he could hear our baby’s secrets.
“Again,” he ordered the baby. “Kick again.”
And the traitor in my womb did.
Adrian’s hand tightened on my waist. Possessive. But different. Not claiming property. Claiming… family.
“Vanessa is five months,” he said suddenly. “You’re ten weeks. She’s showing. You’re not. The board believes her.”
“So?”
“So I need proof you’re carrying my child.” His eyes met mine, and for the first time, there was no ice. Only fire. “Tomorrow. Ultrasound. In front of the board. In front of Vanessa.”
He stood, and the mask slammed back down. Cold. CEO.
“But Lily…” He touched my stomach one last time. “If this baby isn’t mine, I will destroy you.”
He left. Door locked behind him.
I stared at my hands. They smelled like him.
For the first time in 18 days, I wasn’t just scared.
I was terrified… because a part of me wanted him to come back.
- Writer
