One Baby, One Billionaire, One Marriage

Vivian Schnabel lay on her bed in the brothel room, her body still warm from Anthony’s touch. She had been terrified of telling him she was pregnant. Anthony had been one of her regular customers, but he was not someone she could call whenever she wanted. He came to the brothel when he needed to satisfy his desires, spent the night with her, paid, and left. Then she would wait until the next time he decided to return. But this time, even though he was around, Vivian still couldn’t tell him she was pregnant with his child. She had been pregnant for two months. She had no idea how he would react when he learned that the woman he only knew as a s*x worker was carrying his child. But today, she had finally decided to tell him. “I’m pregnant.” Anthony’s arm, which had been caressing her bare butt, suddenly tightened around her. “What did you just say?” he asked, his entire body going still. Even his breathing changed as he waited for her answer. Vivian turned to face him. “I’m pregnant,” she repeated. Anthony stared at her, his expression changing as he processed her words. She barely knew him. Anthony Wolfenstein had been coming to her room for almost a year, always the same: money on the table, hands on her body, silence afterward. He never asked about her life. He never talked about his. He was a regular. A wealthy one. Nothing more. Until the two words she had just spoken. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I mean I’m pregnant,” she said, holding his gaze. “And it’s yours.” Anthony sat up slowly and pulled the sheet over his bare chest. He was broad-shouldered, dark-haired, with a strong, clean-cut face that rarely gave anything away. At thirty he already owned half of Hale City. He was the only heir to the richest man in the city, and soon the rest of his father’s empire would be his. Men like him weren’t supposed to have problems they couldn’t solve. Yet he was staring at Vivian like she had just handed him one. “Why are you pregnant?” he asked coldly. “You knew what this was. You’re a prostitute. I come here for one reason. I expected you to protect yourself.” Vivian frowned at the way he said it. She knew what she did, but she didn’t need him throwing the word at her like an insult. “I know what I’m doing,” she snapped. “You don’t have to remind me.” “You should have protected yourself,” Anthony said callously. “So should you,” Vivian shot back, refusing to take all the blame. She sat up, naked, making no attempt to cover herself with the sheet. Maybe she wanted Anthony to notice the change in her body, even though the pregnancy was not yet visible. “You never used protection with me,” she said. “Not once.” “That doesn't mean I expected this.” “It should have.” Anthony gave her a hard look. “I thought you were smart enough to prevent this.” Vivian frowned. “And I thought you were smart enough to know that unprotected s*x could lead to pregnancy,” she shot back, trying to keep her voice calm. “I always used protection with my other customers,” Vivian said, her voice rising. “You were the only one I didn’t.” “I paid you well,” Anthony replied, as though the money gave him the right to dismiss everything she was saying. “But you didn’t pay to escape the consequences, Anthony.” Vivian stared at him in disbelief. “You refused to wear a condom every single time. You knew exactly what we were risking. So don’t look at me like I’m the only one responsible for this pregnancy.” Anthony got off the bed. He walked to the window and stared outside. Men stood around the brothel entrance, some drinking, some laughing with women. Cars came and went. Money changed hands. It reminded him of exactly where he was. A business. A transaction. Nothing personal. That was how it was supposed to be. He turned back. “So what are you going to do?” he asked, his voice calmer now. Vivian had considered this. She had prepared herself for this moment, for either a yes or a no. Either way, she was ready. “I’m keeping the baby.” Anthony's face changed. “Why?” “Because I’m keeping my baby.” “Are you out of your mind?” “No.” She held his gaze. “I've thought about it.” “You work in a brothel. How exactly do you plan to raise a child?” “I'll figure it out.” “You think it’s that simple?” “No. I know it isn’t.” She held his gaze, already certain about what she wanted to do. “I’m twenty-eight now. I had an abortion seven years ago, and I had complications afterward. For years, I thought I might never be able to have children again.” She swallowed hard. “So when I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t bring myself to end it.” Her hand moved unconsciously to her stomach. “So I'm not throwing this one away,” she said, with quiet resolve. Anthony stared at her. “I don't want to be responsible for it.” “You don't have to be.” “Then why did you tell me?” “Because it’s your child. You deserved to know,” Vivian replied. “And before you misunderstand me, I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m not asking for your money, and I’m certainly not asking you to give up your life for mine.” She took a deep breath, holding his gaze. Anthony walked back toward the bed. He sat on the edge, keeping his distance. “You don't understand.” “Then explain it.” “I don't need a child.” “I heard you.” “I don't need a wife either.” “I never asked to be your wife.” He looked at her more closely. “And even if I ever wanted one, it wouldn't be with a prostitute.” The words hit her, embarrassingly hard. “How are you any different from me, Anthony?” Vivian demanded, her voice rising with anger. She refused to be ashamed of how she made a living when he had willingly paid for her services. “Without clients, there would be no business,” Vivian continued. “Without men like you paying women like me, places like this wouldn't exist.” Vivian looked away. “You want to leave? Then leave.” Anthony stood. He reached for his trousers. Then he stopped. “You need to terminate the pregnancy.” Vivian looked at him. She had already made her decision, and nothing he said was going to change it. “No,” she said firmly. “I'll pay you.” “I don't want your money.” “Ten times what you make in a year.” She shook her head. “Twenty times.” “I said no.” Anthony turned to face her. His expression was cold, controlled. “Whatever you want. Name the amount.” Vivian looked at him. She finally understood what he was thinking. To Anthony, this was just another problem that could be solved with money, but she slowly shook her head. “I don't want your money.” Her voice grew hard as she looked at him. “I want my baby.”