Pregnant For My Ex-Fiancé’s Father

The universe

Liv's POV

The silence that followed Kaelon’s departure was oppressive. I had barely made out the sound of the door clicking shut.

My heart still hammered in my chest, and I was still very acutely aware of every sensation in my body.

The warmth of his presence still lingered in the air, his cologne clinging to my senses, and worst of all was the undeniable pool of heat that had formed between my thighs.

I closed my eyes tightly and let out a frustrated groan. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

This was Aaron’s father.

He had just accused me of throwing myself at him. That should have spiked up my nerves, made me angry and talk back.

I sighed, slumping my slender shoulders. I really am the joker here.

All I could think about was the way he had looked at me, the heat in his voice, and the barely controlled power in his touch.

The hell I was supposed to be angry at him.

“How could this even happen?” I muttered, pacing the room as I tried to make sense of it all.

Why hadn’t I recognized him last night? More importantly, why hadn’t he recognized me?

Surely, Aaron had shown him a picture of me at some point, or had he been too busy running his empire to bother with his son’s personal life?

But we had a video call on sky.pe.

And then, there was the question I didn’t want to face. Why was I so damn wet?

I let out a huff of frustration, pressing my palms to my cheeks as if that would somehow smother the embarrassment that was threatening to consume me.

This wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t the kind of woman who got swept away by a man like Kaelon Blackwood, no matter how maddeningly attractive or magnetic he was.

My gaze swept around the room, landing on the half-packed suitcase sitting on the bed. Leaving this house felt inevitable now.

My encounter with Kaelon both downstairs and up here in my room has just fueled my reasons to leave.

A lying and cheating son who wants me back. A father that made me tremble with desire. A deadly combo.

I needed to leave.

I sighed, walking back to the bed and sitting down at the edge. My fingers brushed against the soft fabric of the comforter, and I glanced around the room again, taking in the pieces of my life scattered across the space.

Most of the things here weren’t even mine. Aaron had bought nearly everything in this room for me, from the clothes in the closet to the jewelry sitting on the dresser.

I have always loved to design and dreamed of owning a fashion line in the future. Kaelon had gotten me a machine to aid my designs without even knowing what I looked like.

“Pffft…”

Seated across my dresser, was a beautiful cello. I loved everything about the cello and played it almost everyday. Aaron had gotten me the Cello the night I moved in here.

I appreciated all the gifts, clothes and shoes he bought me, but I never liked them. They were dressed that made statement of the wealth and affluence of the Blackwood's.

I preferred my fashionable mini skirts, blackhoose and sweatshirts with comfortable sneakers to the numerous dresses that glimmered under light hanging in the closet.

They were trying to shape me into something I wasn’t. And I could not help but feel that I was slowly losing myself in the process.

Still, there were a few things I couldn’t bear to leave behind.

My gaze fell on the lampstand, and my breath hitched as I spotted the small picture frame sitting there.

It was a photo of me and Aaron, taken during one of our vacations in Hawaii where he literally begged me not to wear the bikinis I packed but the one his stylist suggested, back when I thought he was the man I wanted to spend my life with.

I reached out and picked up the frame, running my fingers over the smooth glass. “You asshole,” I whispered softly, my voice tinged with both anger and sadness.

The photo was a cruel reminder of what could have been, of the life I had thought we were building together. Now, it felt like a mockery, a symbol of everything that had gone wrong.

I set the frame back on the stand with a sigh and pushed myself to my feet. There wasn’t any point in dwelling on the past, not when there was so much I needed to sort out in the present.

Grabbing the suitcase, I began stuffing my clothes into it without much thought. I took just my clothes that I had already before coming here. But the only thing I took, was the sketch set that Aaron got me.

I had already drawn lots of designs in it to leave it behind.

The truth was, I didn’t want to take anything from this place. It felt tainted now, like a part of a life I no longer wanted any connection to.

Once the suitcase was packed, I zipped it up and dragged it toward the door. The wheels made a soft whirring sound as I pulled it behind me, the weight of it slowing me down.

I couldn’t help but feel like the suitcase was a metaphor for everything I was carrying not just physically, but emotionally as well.

My heavy burden.

The house was eerily quiet as I made my way down the hall. I remembered Aaron once mentioning that whenever his father was home, he liked to reshuffle the household staff.

Something about ensuring their discretion, though I had always thought it was just another way for Kaelon Blackwood to flex his power.

My footsteps echoed softly as I approached the staircase, and I hesitated for a moment before starting to drag the suitcase down one step at a time. It was heavy, the weight of it straining my arms, but I was determined to get out of here on my own terms.

As I reached the halfway point, a thought hit and my eyes widened. I immediately muttered a silent prayer. “Please don’t let me bump into either of them.”

The last thing I needed was another confrontation, especially with Kaelon.

But of course, fate had other plans.

“Let me help you with that,” a deep voice said from behind me, startling me so much I nearly lost my grip on the suitcase.

I turned to see Kaelon standing at the top of the stairs, his gray eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my stomach flip. Without waiting for my response, he descended the stairs in a few smooth, confident strides, closing the distance between us effortlessly.

Before I could protest, he reached for the suitcase and lifted it as if it weighed nothing. The muscles in his arms flexed beneath the fabric of his tailored shirt, and I couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized by the sheer strength and grace he exuded.

Was I a joke to the universe?