THE CEOS’ SECRET BABY.

HIS MISTRESS BUT A WIFE.

AVA POV

My fingers were trembling so as I pulled the file open, desperate to see what was under but horrified at the thought of it all together. From where I am standing, I could hear crushing thunder, an indication of a heavy storm coming up.

An all took familiar sense of nostalgia hit me.

Serge stood there, like a predator who had already calculated every variable of the toil in my life. He looked unbothered, his eyes tracking the slight rise and fall of my chest with a cold, amusement that made me want to rip his face to apart.

After reading a few words in the file, I slammed it shut, with venom pulsing through me all the way to my head before , I harshly threw it at his chest.

It collided with his shirt before sliding to the floor, scattering a few loose pages across the carpet . But I didn't care about the mess.

“You are a sick, twisted monster, Serge,” I spat, my voice low with a thick edge I didn't even recognize.

That contract was moulded to be a direct death sentence to my remaining little dignity, a legally binding twelve month contract.

A contract that didn't just demand my presence in his bed, it demanded my total surrender. It detailed exactly how I was to become his secret property for the next year, a hidden object stationed to satisfy his dark desires whenever he commanded.

Twelve months!!

That was a full year of looking at my husband in the eye every morning while hiding the truth of another man, continually creating lies just to survive.

This was twisted!

“Why?” I whispered, a laugh escaping my lips as I took a step closer to him, refusing to let him see me cower. “Why are you doing this? A man with your wealth, your status... you could have any beautiful goddess or woman in this city. You could have models, heiresses, senators' daughters. Why the f**k are you targeting a cleaner? What is wrong with your head?”

He doesn’t say anything but slowly tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at the papers on the carpet before fixing his gaze back on me. He didn't care the cost I was to carry. Whether Matthew would leave me. He didn't care about the psychological torture it would inflict on my life. He simply wanted the deal finalized, and he knew exactly which strings to pull to make me dance.

“Because the models don't fight back like you do, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver straight down my spine.

Stepping forward, he casually crunching a piece of paper under his foot before continuing. “And unlike them, you actually have a price. And I like what I can’t afford.” He adds, smiling at me as if I enjoyed his response.

In exchange for my body for twelve months, Serge was offering to completely cover out the outstanding mortgage on our house and very single debt that was currently drowning Matthew would vanish along with it including all the payments for our wedding anniversary.

Not only that, but he was offering to fully fund our lives, establish financial security and ensure Matthew never had to work as a waiter ever again nor I as a cleaner.

Our secret from these two nights would be buried forever and Matthew would never find out.

This meant that Matthew was to live his life in financial comfort, thinking his sudden promotion to head of security was earned through pure merit.

I scoffed.

It was the juiciest savior package wrapped in a big demonic red bow.

But it had one condition.

Bending down, I picked up that page and read it out loud, trying to make sense of it again

“The counterparty must ensure total contraception. A pregnancy of any kind, whether fathered by the client or the counterparty’s spouse, will result in immediate breach, total financial liquidation, and the public release of all prior evidence.”

The irony of his words felt like a physical blade twisting directly into my chest. I was a married woman, bound to get pregnant and start a family very soon.

This just didn’t make any sense. He made this paperwork fully covering and favoring himself yet he had nothing to lose. Literally nothing!

“You want to control my actual body?” I yelled, the aggression completely breaking through my defenses as I pushed into his personal space, my chest heaving against his. “You want to dictate whether I can have a family with my own husband? You are a psychopath, Serge! I am a human being, not an asset you can lease and regulate!”

“You are exactly what I say you are, Ava,” he growled, his demeanor shifting from amused to angry before he reached out to me, his fingers gripping my jaw with a tight pressure that caused me to look at him.

“Look at your reality. Your husband is a waiter who can barely afford the roof over your heads. You are working yourself to the bone moping my floors. I am handing you a life of sweet luxury on a silver platter. All you have to do is give me twelve months of your time. No strings. No attachments. And absolutely no complications.” He hissed then let go of my jaw, stepping back and turning his back to me as he stared out the massive glass wall at the now rainy horizon.

“You have exactly two choices, baby girl. You sign those papers, take the money, and save you and your

husband’s future. Or you walk out that door, and by tomorrow morning, Matthew will receive a highly detailed video of exactly what his sweet wife cleans up on the fiftieth floor of Sterling Corporation.”

I remained silent. I didn’t know what to think.

My mind became some sort of battleground, desperately weighing the consequences of my decisions.

If I said no, my marriage was over by tomorrow morning. Matthew’s heart would break into a million pieces and he would look at me with so much disgust, and we would lose our home regardless.

Serge would create a scandal that would destroy everything, everything I ever knew and loved, everything I ever worked hard for.

But if I said yes... then our mortgage would become a paid debt. Matthew would be safe and secure and so would our marriage. We wouldn’t have to work our asses off for the rest of our lives like we’re always been doing.

But I would have to endure twelve months of living a double life, and silently start praying to God that the nausea in my stomach was just nerves and not the a complication Serge had explicitly forbidden.

I looked at the folder on the floor, the white pages staring back at me like a trap door to hell, then I lifted my eyes and looked back at Serge’s silhouette against the glass window.

My life was ticking bomb. One that he had made sure to pull the pin off before handing it over to me.

My heart was thudding so loudly against my ribs it felt like a wild animal trying to escape its cage as I suddenly realized the quote “Your life is in your hands” was actually true. And I hated that reality.

I hated the fact that I was in such a compromising position because of me and my mistake. A mistake I had to pay for now.

Taking a deep breath. my hands clenched into tight fists as I weighted the decisions before me.

One that would either save my life but tag me as a devils’ w***e or one that would stutter my entire world but leave me as a good wife.