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He fked her on his mahogany desk. Five times a night. But when dawn broke, he became the ruthless boss again. “Last night was a stupid mistake born of pent-up adrenaline. You’re my brilliant secretary. Nothing more.” He fastened his watch slowly, calm and merciless. “There's a black card on the desk. Consider it compensation and make sure you take some pills so you don't end up with an unwanted child,” he continued, though her broken eyes were ripping his heart apart. But NO. No matter how much he’d craved her over these three years, and no matter how crazy they’d been last night, he would not break his promise to himself — that he would have no heir to repeat his tragic childhood as the sole heir to this cursed business empire. That was his rule. His comfort zone. And it would have stayed that way... if a month later, he hadn't received her resignation letter. “You are the most insufferable, cold, and empty man I have ever met in my entire life… You are not a leader; you are just a tyrant in expensive suits who is terrified of being left alone.” He was beyond furious and tracked her down to a shabby clinic in Blackwood Town. The medical report on the desk read: Pregnant. He let out a harsh, broken, and humorless laugh. “Marcus!” his roar cut through the thunder. “She's not alone. She's pregnant with my child. So, be careful. If anything happens to her or the child, if she slips, if she cuts herself, if even one of your men frightens her too much and she suffers a d!mn collapse... I swear I'll bury you in these very docks. There are three surefire ways to ruin your life when you're twenty-four. The first is to go into debt. The second is to lie. And the third, by far the most lethal, is to fall in love with your billionaire boss, sleep with him on his mahogany desk, and discover you're pregnant right after he makes it clear that he will never, ever acknowledge a child. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the plastic test, and I stared at the two red
