Pregnant for my cold billionaire Ex

The lights were too bright. Amara hesitated at the entrance of the hall, her fingers tightening around the small purse in her hand. Everything about the place felt expensive—from the polished floor beneath her heels to the soft music floating in the air. Even the people looked like they belonged to another world. A world she had no right to step into. “Invitation.” The deep voice pulled her back. The security man stood in front of her, watching her carefully, his eyes briefly dropping to her simple black dress. Amara forced a small smile and quickly brought out the card. “Here.” He didn’t take it immediately. Instead, he looked at her again, as if trying to decide whether she truly belonged here. “You’re sure you’re in the right place?” Her chest tightened slightly, but she nodded. “Yes. I am.” After a short pause, he finally took the card, glanced at it, then stepped aside. “Go in.” “Thank you,” she said quickly, walking past him before he could change his mind. The moment she stepped inside, the sound of quiet laughter and clinking glasses filled her ears. She didn’t stop moving. If she did, she was afraid her courage would disappear. “Relax,” she whispered under her breath. “You’re fine.” But she wasn’t. Her hands were already cold. Her eyes moved around the hall, searching, hoping—until they finally landed on him. Alexander Kane. He stood at the center of the room like everything belonged to him. Tall, composed, distant. His black suit fit him perfectly, and his expression was just as she remembered—calm, unreadable, cold. Amara felt a small smile form on her lips. Relief washed over her. “There you are…” she breathed softly. For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the people. Not the place. Just him. She started walking toward him. One step. Then another. But halfway through, her steps slowed. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “…who is that?” The words slipped out before she could stop them. A woman stood beside him. Not just close—attached. Her hand rested comfortably on his arm, her body angled toward him like she belonged there. Amara frowned. No… maybe she was misunderstanding. It had to be business. Yes. That made sense. Alexander noticed her then. Their eyes met across the room. For a second, everything else faded. Amara’s smile returned immediately. She lifted her hand slightly, her lips moving without sound. I’m here. He didn’t smile back. He didn’t move. He just watched her. Something in her chest shifted, but she ignored it and continued walking. When she finally stopped in front of him, her heart was beating faster than before. “Alexander,” she said softly. “I came. You told me to—” “Excuse me?” The woman’s voice cut in sharply. Amara turned her head slightly, her expression tightening. “Yes?” The woman looked her up and down slowly, her lips curving in clear disapproval. “Who are you?” Amara didn’t answer her. Her eyes returned to Alexander. “Are you going to tell her,” she asked quietly, “or should I?” The woman’s grip on his arm tightened. “Alexander, I asked you a question.” Amara felt the tension rising, but she held her ground. “Just tell her,” she said softly to him. “You said you would.” Silence followed. Then Alexander spoke. “I think you’ve made a mistake.” Amara blinked, confused. “…what?” His expression didn’t change. If anything, it became even colder. “I don’t know you.” The words didn’t register immediately. Amara let out a small, uncertain laugh. “Stop joking.” “I’m not joking.” Her smile faded slightly. “Alexander…” “I said,” he repeated, his voice flat, “I don’t know you.” This time, people began to notice. Conversations slowed. Eyes turned. Amara could feel it, but she didn’t care. She stepped closer to him, her voice dropping. “Look at me properly. It’s me.” “I’ve never seen you beforeu.” The calmness in his tone hurt more than anger ever could. Amara shook her head quickly. “No… you’re just—you’re trying to—” “Security.” Her breath caught. “You’re not serious…” Two guards began walking toward them. Amara turned back to him, panic rising in her chest. “Tell them to stop.” He didn’t move. “Alexander.” Nothing. Her voice trembled now. “Say something.” “I already did.” “You’re embarrassing yourself,” the woman beside him added with a soft, mocking laugh. Amara turned sharply. “Stay out of this.” The woman raised a brow. “Or what?” Before Amara could respond, the guards reached her. “Ma’am, you have to leave.” “No,” she said quickly, pulling her arm back. “Wait—” She looked at Alexander again, desperation now clear in her eyes. “This isn’t funny anymore.” He didn’t react. Her voice dropped, breaking slightly. “Say it again.” Silence. “Look at me,” she whispered. “And say it again.” For a brief second, his eyes held hers. Then— “I don’t know you.” Something inside her broke. Completely. The guards held her arms, but she didn’t fight anymore. She just stared at him, as if waiting for him to take it back. He didn’t. Three years. Three years of her life, reduced to nothing in a single sentence. “Okay…” she said slowly, her voice unsteady. “Okay.” The guards began to pull her away. She didn’t resist. “You don’t know me,” she repeated softly, almost to herself. No answer. Not even a flicker of emotion. Amara let out a quiet, broken laugh. “Then I was stupid.” The room was silent now. Everyone was watching. But she didn’t look at them. Only him. “I really thought…” she swallowed hard, “you were different.” Still nothing. Amara nodded slowly. “Alright.” She stopped walking and gently pulled her arms free. “Let me go. I’ll walk.” The guards hesitated, then released her. For a moment, she stood there, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Then she turned and walked away. Each step felt heavy, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t look back. Not once. Outside, the cool night air hit her face. Amara stopped. Her legs felt weak. “…he doesn’t know me,” she whispered. The words sounded strange, like they belonged to someone else. Her hand pressed lightly against her chest, as if trying to calm the ache there. “Three years…” she murmured. A small, broken laugh escaped her lips. “No. It’s fine.” But her eyes filled with tears. She wiped them quickly. “Don’t cry. Not here.” She took a step forward, then paused again. “…Alexander.” His name slipped out softly, like a habit she couldn’t control. But there was no answer. There would be no answer. Inside that hall, he didn’t come after her. And that was when it finally settled deep in her chest— He meant it. He really meant it. He didn’t know her. Amara closed her eyes briefly, then opened them and kept walking into the night. She didn’t know yet… that this wasn’t the end of their story. It was only the beginning.