Pregnant For The Ruthless Billionaire

The Shadow of the Past

Lena's phone slipped from her hand and crashed onto the marble floor, the noise sharp enough to make her jump.

You and that baby are dead.

The message burned in her mind. Her breath became fast and shallow. She pressed herself against the mirrored wall, clutching her stomach, trying to steady herself.

Who sent that? How did they know? What was the connection to her father?

Arthur Vance, her father, had been a genius in business-or so everyone said-until he died in a strange car accident five years ago. After that, his company crumbled almost instantly. Lena and her mother were left drowning in debt, with piles of questions nobody could answer. She'd always believed it was nothing more than bad luck. Now, reading that text, she knew something else was at play.

The elevator chimed. The doors slid open. With trembling knees, Lena grabbed her phone and stumbled out, desperate to leave that building and find some kind of safety.

She rushed through the gleaming glass lobby of Knight Industries, her mind spinning. Across the street, a black SUV waited. Inside, a man in a baseball cap watched her through binoculars, talking quietly into his burner phone.

"She just walked out. She's scared. The text did its job."

"Good," came the reply, the voice thick and distorted. "Keep eyes on her. If Damian Knight finds out what she's carrying, we lose our leverage."

For the next two days, Lena lived in a haze of fear. She watched every shadow, flinched at every unexpected noise, convinced someone was following her.

And Damian? He made her workdays a nightmare. He didn't fire her-she figured he would-but he ignored her existence except to send cold office memos, dumping the worst tasks on her desk.

By Thursday, the office buzzed with anticipation. The charity gala for Knight Industries was happening that night. Everyone had to go-even the interns.

Lena stood at her bathroom mirror, staring at herself. She couldn't afford anything fancy, just a simple sleeveless black dress from a thrift shop. Her brown hair fell in soft waves around her pale face. She looked understated but stunning.

At the Hilton ballroom, it felt like another world. Chandelier crystals shimmered overhead, and the city's elite mingled and sipped champagne.

Then the crowd shifted, and Lena saw Damian. He looked sharp in a black tuxedo, impressive and intimidating. Victoria, dressed in a glittering red gown, clung to his arm. They looked like a power couple-unbeatable.

Lena ducked behind a floral arrangement, hoping to hide. But Damian scanned the room and, somehow, found her immediately. His piercing gaze locked onto hers, and she felt his attention burn right through her.

"Lena? Is that you?"

She spun around. Marcus stood there, holding a wine glass, smiling. He looked handsome, but after everything, Lena couldn't stand him.

"Marcus." She pulled back. "What are you doing?"

"My dad's a board member, remember?" His grin was sleazy, and his eyes lingered on her shoulders. "You look fantastic. About Chloe-that was just a mistake. I miss you. Come on, let's go talk."

He grabbed her wrist, holding tight.

"Let go, Marcus," Lena said, panic rising. "I don't want to talk. Let me go!"

"Don't make a scene," he whispered, pulling her closer, his grip hurting. "You're just an intern. Who's going to care if we leave?"

"I said, let her go."

A deep, dangerous voice sliced through the air.

Marcus froze. Lena looked up-Damian was there. Fury twisted his features. The tension in his face was almost scary, and nearby guests moved away as he stepped closer.

Marcus dropped Lena's wrist and went pale. "Mr. Knight, I'm sorry. We were just catching up, she's my ex-"

"I don't care if she's your wife," Damian snarled, towering over him. "She works for me. No one lays a finger on anyone at Knight Industries. Get out before I throw you-and your dad-out for good."

Marcus mumbled an apology and rushed away.

Lena let out a shaky breath, relief flooding her. She looked at Damian. "Thank you, Mr. Knight. I-"

"Save it," Damian cut in, his voice a low, harsh whisper. He grabbed her arm-not rough, just firm-and dragged her out to a private terrace.

The cool air hit her skin. Damian slammed the door behind them.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snapped, anger flashing. "You show up dressed like that and let idiots touch you?"

"I didn't let him!" Lena shot back, tears threatening. "He grabbed me! And why do you even care? You think I'm some gold-digger. Go back to your perfect fiancée!"

He pinned her against the stone railing. She felt his heartbeat, rapid and fierce.

"Don't push me, Lena," Damian growled, eyes dropping to her lips. "You think I want to care? You haunt me day and night. I see you every day, acting innocent, holding on to a secret that could ruin me."

"It's not a lie!" Lena sobbed, tears finally spilling. "Why won't you believe me? The baby's yours, Damian! Why do you hate me so much?"

His grip tightened for a second. Vulnerability flickered in his face before he shut down again.

"Because your father was Arthur Vance," he whispered, cold and quiet.

Lena's world tilted. "You... You knew my dad?"

"Knew him?" Damian let out a rough laugh. "He ruined my family. Arthur Vance drove my father into bankruptcy-and suicide. Your dad destroyed me. I swore I'd ruin anyone with Vance blood."

It hit her like a punch to the gut. The man she was pregnant by-her father's biggest victim.

Before Lena could even think, a loud c***k shattered the air.

The glass door exploded. A bullet grazed Damian's shoulder.

"Get down!" Damian yelled, diving over Lena, pinning her to the floor as gunfire tore through the night, turning the ballroom into chaos.