Pregnant with the CEO's secret Heir

The day everything changed You're pregnant. I stared at the doctor without saying a word. I was thinking of everything, and I was nervous. The blood test confirms that, he said softly. You're about six weeks pregnant. Six weeks. The words echoed in my head. Are you sure about this doctor? No.. I said, shaking my head. There has to be a mistake somewhere. I'm afraid there isn't. I took the results from the doctor's hands. Positive. Oh my God, my future has been shattered. It has been ruined I cried I can't be pregnant. I can't. I was twenty-four years old, working hard to make a living. Some days, I skipped meals so I could pay rent and give my family the necessities. On other days, I worked and worked until I was exhausted, because I had no choice; giving up wasn't an option. How am I supposed to raise a child? When I have not taken care of myself. I rested a hand on my stomach. A baby was growing inside me, whose father didn't know I existed. What happened that night flashed through my mind. A hotel. His eyes. The way he looked at me. A mistake I had promised myself that I wouldn't think about again. But life had other plans. Miss Claire? He said. I blinked and realized the doctor was still talking. Is there anyone you can call? Your mother? Your friend? Boyfriend? Husband? Or anyone? No doctor There was no boyfriend. No husband. No mother. No family waiting to comfort me. Only a stepmother who saw me as nothing more than a bank account. She collects money when she wants and threatens me. I said The doctor gave me a sympathetic look before handing me a small packet of drugs. Please take these drugs. And try not to stress too much. Try not to stress. I muttered to myself If only it were that easy. I thanked him and walked out. The moment I stepped outside, it was drizzling. Raindrops landed on my face. Within seconds, the rain grew heavier, but I couldn't move. I just stood there, staring at the sky. What am I going to do? My phone vibrated. My stepmother is calling. I closed my eyes before answering. Hello, Ma. Where's the money? She said without greeting me; she didn't even ask me if I was fine. I'll send it after work. You'd better. Don't forget who helped you and took care of you when your father died. She hung up. I kept my phone. She had never asked me how I was doing. Not once. I wiped my tears. Three Months Earlier. I woke up at five am in the morning. For a few seconds, I lay still, staring at the ceiling. I was so tired from standing up. Every part of my body wanted more sleep. But sleep doesn't pay bills. With a sigh, I stood up. My apartment was so small that I could cross it in less than ten steps. The walls were old, the paint was out of colour, and the furniture looked worn out. But It was mine. And that was enough. I splashed water on my face and looked into the mirror. You've got this, Claire, I whispered to myself. Just keep going. Never give up I say this to myself every day because I believe one day it will be better. A phone call interrupted my thoughts. I didn't even need to check who it was. I already knew. It was Sarah, my stepmother. I took a deep breath, and I picked up the call. Don't forget to send the money today. I kept thinking of the words for a long moment before dropping my phone. Almost half of every dollar I earned went to the woman who had never treated me like a daughter. Sometimes I wondered why I was still sending the money. Maybe because I have a good heart. Or maybe because, despite everything, I still hoped she'd one day see me as family. I shook the thought away and put my phone into my bag. I went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast After making a quick breakfast of bread and tea, I picked up my documents and headed out. My documents were the one thing I treasured most, because that is the one thing that could help me. Every sketch inside the document was amazing; it represented a dream, a dream that one day my designs would be admired by people all over the world, I would be the best designer, and I would be popular. The streets were already alive. The market women arranged their goods while buses moved. Office workers hurried to their work. I entered a crowded bus, clasping my documents tightly to my chest to keep them from being crushed. Forty minutes later, the familiar building of Hill Group came into view. My heart fluttered. This is where my life changes, I whispered to myself. Even after three weeks of working there, I still couldn't believe I had been hired by the biggest design company in the country. I stepped through the doors, greeted the guards with a smile, and made my way to the elevator. When the elevator doors opened, the cheerful mood I carried from home to the company disappeared instantly. I heard them There she is. I heard she still takes the bus. Maybe she'll ask us for money today. Laughter spewed behind me. I tightened my grip on my bag and kept walking. I didn't look back, just looked ahead and focused. I learned something a long time ago. Silence is stronger than an argument. It is the best weapon for anything. As I reached my desk, I carefully arranged my pencils, sketchbook, and documents. Before I could even sit down, a file landed on my desk with a loud clump. I looked up. It is Melissa. The senior designer. She folded her arms and regarded me as if I didn't belong in the same room. I need these sketches redesigned before noon, she said. I blinked. But those aren't my projects. Are you questioning me? Who are you to question me? Melissa said I just stared at her without saying a word. I already have today's work. OK, I will do it. She came closer to me. Then work faster. A few designers nearby laughed. I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded. Yes, Ma. She smirked before walking away. The moment she disappeared, my seatmate, Lily, rolled her chair closer. Lily is the only friend I have; she understands me, cherishes me and makes me happy. You know she's doing this on purpose, right? She said I smiled feebly. I know. So why don't you report her to the CEO? I glanced around the office. She's been here for years. I've been here for three weeks. Lily sighed. I just hate seeing her treating you badly. You don't deserve that. You are beautiful, talented, and so smart. It's okay. The words left my mouth. The truth was it wasn't okay. But I needed this job more than I needed anything. I buried myself at work. Hours passed without me noticing. One sketch became two. Two became five. I kept on working. Ideas filled page after page. Whenever I designed, the surrounding noise disappeared. For those few moments, I wasn't the poor girl everyone pitied. I was simply Claire. A designer. Someone with dreams bigger than her circumstances. Just as I finished my final sketch, a loud voice echoed across the department. Everyone! The room became quiet. Our manager stood near the entrance with a nervous expression. The CEO is coming to inspect the design department. Make sure your desks are clean and remain professional and design-ready. My stomach tightened. The CEO? I'd heard a lot of stories about him since my first day. Some said he was a genius. Some said he was ruthless. Others said he is proud. Everyone agreed on one thing. He never smiled. I quickly organized the papers on my desk. Around me, people did their makeup, adjusted their clothes, and some whispered. He hardly visits this floor. I heard he fired someone in the other department. I hope he notices me. Silence settled over the room. Then. Footsteps. Slow. Steady. Powerful. They grew louder My heartbeat quickened. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to look up Immediately. The footsteps stopped. Right beside my desk. He took my sketchbook. Then a deep, calm voice broke the silence. Who designed this? My breath caught in my throat. I slowly lifted my eyes. And halted.