Impregnated By The Billionaire

Chapter 2

Later that day, when Noémie reached her apartment, she had barely unlocked the door when she heard the loud sound of another door slamming shut across the hallway.

“Rochester,” a male voice called out from behind her, surprising her. “Funny seeing you here. Your boss suddenly tripped over the concept of a day off, eh?”

Noémie struggled to fight a smile as she turned on her heels and came face to face with Gaël Marchant—a handsome pilot who lived on the same floor as her and owned the most beautiful car in the entire building.

He was pretty cocky about it, and even though he could afford a much better, more luxurious place than this building offered, he seemed perfectly content with his stay. Noémie had tried to understand his reasons at first, but with so much on her plate, she eventually gave up.

“If I say yes, will that make you feel better?” she asked with a smile, flipping her dark hair off her shoulder as she moved her arms behind her back, not wanting him to see the file she was carrying.

For some reason, she thought he would judge her if he found out about her current predicament. And despite them being nothing more than good neighbors, she didn’t like the idea of tarnishing her reputation in his eyes. Perhaps a bit cocky, but he was one of the good guys, and, sadly, his company meant a lot to her in this far-off city.

He hummed. “Depends…”

“On what?”

“How long your boss can keep up the righteous act and continue to have some mercy on your poor, overworked soul?”

“You think I’m overworked?”

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror?”

Noémie pursed her lips, unsure if he was serious or just fooling around.

But then he broke into laughter, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re an i***t!” she pouted, shaking her head as she turned to unlock her apartment door.

Gaël laughed, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he watched her struggle with the key. “Here, let me help,” he offered, raising his arm to reach for the key.

Noémie hadn’t expected the offer. While she continued to fumble with the lock, his warm hand clamped over hers, and she stiffened.

Their eyes met briefly before he gently nudged her aside and took her place instead.

Now standing off to the side, Noémie watched, wrapping her arms around herself, as he smoothly pushed the key in and, with some magical technique she failed to notice—thanks to his large hands—unlocked the door with a satisfying click.

The grin on his face was cockier than ever as he stepped back and gave the door a gentle push. “Here you go, Your Highness,” he teased, dropping the key back into her hand before thrusting his hands into his jeans pockets.

“Thanks for the help, Gaël,” Noémie muttered, feeling a slight heat rush up her neck. She had no idea why she was suddenly so flustered. She’d always been good at handling his weirdness. Perhaps the news of her pregnancy had turned her into a sensitive mess. She could only hope to sort herself out before things got out of hand.

Gaël only nodded before taking another step back. “So, are you coming to the rooftop party tonight? It’s Steven’s ninth birthday. Maybe Mrs. Colbert will finally open the bar this time.”

“No. But keep dreaming,” she chuckled, finally stepping inside her apartment and turning to face him. “Mrs. Colbert’s ex-husband died of an alcohol overdose. She wouldn’t want to expose her dear son to something like that.”

Mrs. Colbert was the landlord who owned the entire building and lived on the ground floor. She was kind and thoughtful but strict—and a little intimidating when it came to rent and her son.

“Really?” He sounded surprised. “I thought those were just rumors,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

“Oh, they are so not. Take my advice and stop spoiling her son. Because once she figures out all the ridiculous tips you’ve been giving him to impress girls, she’ll throw you out so fast you won’t know what hit you,” she teased, though there wasn’t a single lie in her words.

Gaël narrowed his eyes, rubbing his neck briefly. “Oh well, why didn’t you warn me earlier?” he said, making a face like someone had just saved him from running a red light. “I guess I’ll have to cancel our top-secret meeting for today then,” he added with all the seriousness in the world before a slight grin once again claimed his handsome face.

He leaned closer to her doorway. “Since my schedule just cleared up for the next hour or so, how about I take you out for coffee? You just saved me from losing my place, after all. Let me treat you to a pleasant drink and some almond croissants. What do you say?” he winked.

Noémie chuckled at his sudden shift in demeanor. But she knew he was only messing with her, just like he did with every single woman in the building. That being said, he almost sounded genuine in his offer.

“Unfortunately, I’ll have to say no. Sorry. I’m not feeling too well. I should probably get some rest.”

When Gaël opened his mouth, Noémie thought he was about to say something. But instead, he covered his mouth with his hand and brushed his lower lip.

“Well then, you better take care of yourself, Rochester. Call me if you need anything.”

And with that, he turned on his heels and was gone.

Noémie stood there for a while, her door half-open, wondering if his offer had been sincere. It couldn’t be, right? He was probably just pulling her leg, seeing as there was a distinct lack of men in her life. He liked to do that a lot.

Sighing to herself, she stepped back inside and closed the door.

That evening, Mrs. Colbert showed up, inviting her to the birthday party. But Noémie had to politely refuse—she wasn’t feeling particularly festive, and the idea of faking a good time was too exhausting for her already worn-out mind.

Thankfully, Mrs. Colbert didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she told her not to hesitate if she needed anything. At that moment, the back of Noémie’s eyes prickled with hot tears. She suddenly felt so emotional, her face growing red as she struggled to hold them back.

Mrs. Colbert must have noticed something because, after leaving to attend the party, she returned later with a slice of cake just for Noémie. The gesture was so sweet, it touched her deeply.

That entire night, Noémie couldn’t sleep. She kept scrolling up and down her phone, unsure whether to call her sister or not. Claudia was the only person she could trust right now. Besides, she desperately needed someone to vent to—someone to listen to her frustrations and anxieties.

There was so much she wanted to say.

To scream.

To yell.

But living alone in this godforsaken city meant she had no one to confide in.

And it sucked. So much.

—————

Noémie wasn’t sure what time it was when the doorbell rang—twice.

With a weary frown, she rolled out of bed and switched on the lights.

First, she checked the time.

The wall clock displayed 4:18 AM.

That was weird.

Who could possibly be outside her door at this hour? Was there some kind of emergency? The last time someone bothered her in the middle of the night was during a false fire alarm. She really hoped this wasn’t another one of those. She was too exhausted to leave her bed so early.

The doorbell rang again.

Rubbing her eyes, she tightened the knot of her robe and dragged herself toward the door.

Whoever was outside was growing impatient. Instead of concern, annoyance scratched at Noémie’s face.

Ready to give the person a piece of her mind, she unlatched the door and swung it open.

“What—”

But the words barely left her lips before her eyes landed on the man standing across from her.

The color drained from her face.

A jolt of shock shot down her spine as a lump formed in her throat.

What was he doing here?

Standing before her, dressed in a crisp Armani suit, was the brother of the man who had ruined her life.

The man responsible for the pain she still carried.

Vincent Halest smiled, his sharp gray eyes glinting.

“It’s nice to see you too, Noémie.”