CEO's Unexpected Baby

Chapter One

The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.
'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.
"You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."
Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.
"This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"
He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."
"The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.
"Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."
Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"
"Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."
Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.
"If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"
Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."
"Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...
"You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."
Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"
"Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."
Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.
"Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."
Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.
"Tell me what I need to do."
Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."
Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.
"The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."
The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.
"Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.
"Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."
The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.
"Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."
Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.
"Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."
"What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.
"A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."
"And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.
"He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."
Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.
"He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."
The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.
"Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."
Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.
"He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."
As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.
Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."
"What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"
Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.
"He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"
Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"
"If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."
As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.
The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.
"Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."
The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.
"He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"
Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"
"Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."
Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...
They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.
"His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."
Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.
"The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.
As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.
"Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"
Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."
The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."
The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."
"By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."
The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."
Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.
"Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"
Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.
With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.
"Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."
"No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."
For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.
The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.
What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.
"Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."
The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...
They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.
"We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."
Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."
Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."
As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.

Chapter Four

Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.
She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.
A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'
The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.
"We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."
The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."
"He's attacking multiple targets at once?"
"No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."
Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"
"A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.
"Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."
"I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."
She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.
"Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."
She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.
"The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."
A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.
"He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...
She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.
"Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."
The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.
"Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."
"The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."
"Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"
"It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."
"Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"
Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."
As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.
The true game was about to begin.

Chapter 1

"Congratulations, you're pregnant," the doctor said with a hint of a smile, but Violet Bennett felt as if she had just heard the biggest joke of the century. How could she possibly be pregnant when she was single? She wasn't a starfish, capable of asexual reproduction.

"Doctor, you must be mistaken. There's no way I could be pregnant."

"Didn't you have artificial insemination last month?"

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The doctor looked at her in surprise. "The medical records do indicate that, but the doctor who performed the procedure has already left. I'm not really sure about the details. If you don't want the child, I can help you schedule an abortion."

Violet felt as if she had been struck by lightning. What was going on? Was she really pregnant? Just yesterday, she had used all her money to pay for her brother's medical bills. She was even borrowing money to eat. Where would she get the money for an abortion?

She stumbled out of the hospital, her mind buzzing. As she stepped outside, a woman pulled her aside. "Are you Violet?"

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"What can I do for you?"

Imogen handed her a business card. "You can ask for anything you want. Have the baby and give it to me."

What? This was shocking. "How did you know I'm pregnant?"

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Violet wasn't a pushover. She wasn't going to be manipulated without knowing what was going on. "If you don't explain, I won't agree to it."

Imogen frowned, clearly frustrated. Her gaze swept over Violet's stomach, her expression ominous. "The truth is, the child should be mine. I registered under a fake name that happened to be the same as yours. The damn doctor mixed it up and performed the artificial insemination on you."

Violet was dumbfounded and shocked. So, the father of the child was the big boss? How did she get involved in such a mix-up?

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"I'll wait for your answer tomorrow. If you dare to leak a word about this, you're done," Imogen said before leaving.

On the way back to the office, Violet was a mess. Imogen's offer was tempting. Her brother was sick, and medical bills were piling up. She really needed the money. But could she live a normal life after having a baby?

She walked into the elevator with a worried look on her face. Just as the doors were closing, a tall figure walked in. Seeing the man, Violet's heart pounded in her chest. It was Lawrence Price, the big boss, and the biological father of the child in her belly. Was this what they called "enemies on a narrow road"?

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Violet was certain that he didn't know about their unexpected connection. Otherwise, he wouldn't be so calm. Subconsciously, she touched her belly, thinking about how she was mysteriously pregnant with his child. She felt both fear and fascination.

The elevator became somewhat suffocating. She stared at the floor indicator, hoping to get out quickly. Just as they reached the fiftieth floor, the elevator suddenly shook violently, the lights went out, and it was pitch black.

Caught off guard, Violet lost her balance and fell to the floor. "What's happening? Is the elevator malfunctioning?"

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Violet was already scared witless, her legs weak. Her body lurched forward in the shaking, crashing into the wall in front of her. She felt dizzy and tried to get up but found that she couldn't move. Her head was stuck between two "big pillars"!

She panicked, her mind a blank. Her little hands scrambled around the "pillar," left and right, up and down. Her head shook violently, trying to pull free, but it was stuck.

"I'm stuck," Violet whimpered, her voice trembling with fear.

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"If you dare to move again, these hands won't be yours anymore."

Violet whimpered, "Mr. Lawrence, I really am stuck. If today is my last day, I have a secret I want to tell you."

Chapter 2

: Unexpected Revelations

Tears cascaded down Violet's cheeks, falling one by one onto Lawrence's pant leg. He could faintly feel the moisture seeping through, leaving him questioning whether this woman was truly naive or merely playing dumb.

"Don't play games with me. If you do, I'll have you out the door in a heartbeat!" Lawrence's frustration echoed through the room.

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Flushed crimson, her face resembled a ripe tomato as she awkwardly wriggled and squirmed, finally freeing herself. "Mr. Lawrence, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to... I couldn't see anything, I really thought I was stuck..." Her voice flowed with continuous contrition, bent over in deep apology.

They say pregnancy brain can make you do strange things. Was she already experiencing it? Lawrence loosened his tie, feeling uncharacteristically flustered by the woman's antics. "Do you have a secret you want to share with me?"

Violet didn't dare utter a word. She feared he had misunderstood, believing she was making a pass at him. If he discovered that his seed had been mistakenly implanted in her, wouldn't he be furious enough to wring her neck?

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Lawrence's lips curled in a mocking smirk. He had heard plenty of such flattery before. There was nothing original about it. "Don't be a sycophant. Focus more on your work."

"Yes, you're absolutely right. I will remember that," Violet murmured, retreating to the corner of the elevator as if being punished.

Finally, the elevator jolted back to life, and like a scared mouse, Violet scuttled out, disappearing down the corridor. Life was full of surprises, but today, she had encountered far too many.

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Meanwhile, at the mansion, Imogen was sharing the news with Lawrence's mother, Ellie Price. Ellie's face beamed with joy. Two years ago, her son had survived a venomous snake attack in the Amazon rainforest, but the venom had affected the quality of his sperm. There was no telling when he would fully recover. Thankfully, he had stored his sperm prior to the trip. Ellie had always worried about not having a grandchild, but now she could finally rest easy.

Lawrence's face turned frosty and dark as he confronted Ellie. "How dare you go behind my back and do something like this?"

Ellie grabbed his hand, desperation evident in her eyes. "I did all of this for you. Your dad had four sons, but you are my only son. You may be the head of the Price Group now, but your three brothers are always lurking in the shadows. Only when you have a legitimate heir will they give up."

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Imogen put on a coy expression, but inside, she was scheming. She had always planned to take Aurelia's baby as her own once it was born. No one would ever know the child wasn't hers.

Lawrence shot her a cold glance and turned to his subordinate. "Take her upstairs for a pregnancy test."

Imogen nearly fell off the couch in shock. If they tested her now, wouldn't her deceit be exposed?

"cLagwrseGnRc$et, bther.e's Gno nieehd ,foWr anPokt_he,r yteDsWt_. LTWhge ÉhgospsitTaAl *caWn'tÉ Ube wLrio)nNga,'"V Imogenf pluejaLdLeCd.

"I want to see for myself." Lawrence's eyes pierced through Imogen, as if he could see through all her secrets.

Fear washed over her, causing her to turn pale. "T... I suddenly feel a bit queasy. I think I need to go home and rest."

She tried to escape, but Lawrence caught her arm and ordered his men to take her upstairs for the test.

TheJ jrxeWspultT !w)azsq Ine)gLahtive.y ÉIHmofgKein js)tFarOteQd cryinJgP. S"DI'mY Msor&ryZ,m Hthex op!eqra$tPióoVnC faialeHd.K jI KdRiGdzn't 'wéaqnt !tmoy worry yoru(, sKo I^ lUiZeVdK.u"

She would never admit that another woman was carrying his child. If Lawrence married that woman, what would become of her?

"I lose my grandchild?" Lawrence's voice was filled with anguish. That was his only healthy genetic legacy.

Overwhelmed by the shock, Ellie fainted. Lawrence quickly brought her into her room to rest and ordered his men to investigate the matter at the hospital.

Her knveTw! IPmo(gWen's mwordYsd cTojuldLn'tN gbTeL trustSed&.! HaivsK JmWenR *sovon uincWoHvreSred .tShIeH térgutGh.é K"Mró. !L_awrjence, tahep oper,atixoMnA awa)snn'Jt a fÉaQiuluXres, b)ut Wd&u)eY xtfoó naz mMiSs)tagke $bTy theV Édgoc_toru,g ryQoguRr sYpNeYr(m wasI TiTmp'lfaBntnesdr inW anothAeFr Pw*omaAnG.q tSMhew is McMuOrrceXntmlSy onge^ monOthc pr&egknda(ntx."

He handed Lawrence the woman's file. Upon seeing the innocent face in the photo, Lawrence was taken aback. It was her!

Violet spent the entire afternoon in a daze. The boss would definitely find out the truth, wouldn't he? Was he already planning what to do with her and the baby?

She didn't have to work overtime that day. As she was leaving the office and about to enter the subway station, a bald thug approached her, pressing a knife to her back. "Stay quiet and come with me, or else..."

Chapter 3

Aurelay's nerves jolted to life, her senses on high alert. She couldn't believe what was happening—a mugging. How could these criminals be so blind? She certainly didn't look like a wealthy person in her cheap clothes, each piece under twenty bucks.

"Si, I'm broke. Not a single dime in my account and drowning in debt. Show some mercy, will you?" she pleaded, hoping for a shred of humanity.

"Enough chatter," the thug with a face like a storm cloud snapped, urging her forward towards a parked black Honda.

JtuUsstx as GheF wNa,sD aMbouUtN XtoH HfWorWcZeJ heXr ipnFtoH QtDheh vefhicle, NaZ nsVhMarpF !bóladeN fwaHsX prIeBssleJdR ZagfaiNnstA hiJs ntnhÉrZoatl.R A Vv&ocice, dripFp*inlg wsiQth( wdDangehrÉ, MsypaokeW, "WBanltd tuo pslayé Ga gHamev?Z jWqhoc _dieGs rfirastC?é"

The thug trembled, frozen with fear. Before he could react, his knife-holding hand was seized, and with a forceful tug, excruciating pain shot through his arm, making him scream like a wounded animal.

Terrified and bewildered, Aurelay was handed over to a man dressed in black, who escorted her into a sleek silver Rolls-Royce. Inside the car sat a man whose tall and commanding presence, along with his handsome face, left no doubt—it was Lawrence.

"Mr... Mr. Lawrence!" Aurelay stammered, her nerves tightening even further. Besides being someone who didn't mug people, the big boss was probably just as dangerous as any bandit.

His &fabcÉe wia)s ^as coldk waisG izce, Yhi,s Zco'ol VgTaYz_eR Oswe$ewpWiFngU ÉoveDr her stti(lql-ZfClaHtZ bÉel$lyyl. L"Ij h*eÉar gyotuc'rVeA NcaaXrryPing my mcShild?*") VhAe s_tsanted xbsl_uBnbt*lwy,k kcatycjhAi!nagJ cAéu*relSayk ohfufP gGuacrd.

"It was... a medical accident. I'm a victim too," she explained, curling up in the corner, avoiding his piercing stare that seemed capable of shattering her.

A mocking smile tugged at the corners of Lawrence's lips. Where was the audacity she had shown in the elevator?

"I've arranged a doctor's appointment for you tomorrow to terminate the pregnancy," he declared, leaving Aurelay stunned. He wanted to abort the baby? Wasn't his fiancée eager for her to give birth? Hadn't they reached a consensus?

ViIoleRt wóaQs ktZawke*n abaDc(ké, xumnablke ltVo bpkroGcHesgsf LaVwSreYn'cke!')s FsudMdefnu dUecistion.l SAheG had vanótixcipIatweqd( .sIoume cIoAmpeLngsfatZio^nL orT d^e,mvanadsO SfArjocms &hdikm,K bÉuptJ pnQo$t thmisj. HowevjerS,n tsFi^nmceY Ch*e had Dma'djeh Cup hhiisD miWn!d, therNe^ _waPsh anfoV JneQedw lféor cher to &sptrrsugJgleI UaFnKymoreF.a It ÉwaTsQ almFoGstD a 'relixeGf.

Lawrence squinted slightly, his deep eyes revealing a hint of surprise. "Do you have any requests?" he asked, expecting her to seize this opportunity to make demands, given her reputation for treating money like her lifeblood.

Violet pursed her lips, refusing to make demands of the big boss. Besides, he was a victim too, and if she wanted compensation, she should go to the hospital. "You won't fire me over this, will you?" she cautiously inquired.

Lawrence paused for a moment, his voice firm, "I always keep my personal life separate from work."

"JThajt's gFoMoqd(.( Aksp UlhofnÉg tawsU AIj dcKaGn kqe(epT KmKyC ZjoCbL, gI bhayvue nSo( otherf órbeqWuZecstFsC,"F qVioFleita repclieQdP,p KstickiXnógk gout hebr( tonjgcuJeT, ag Gscmall' lact KoOf ydgekfiianceW faOgaLinst thie cpiyrCcGuóms!taNnces thOat hh,adS bhrMoutghQt. _txhBem* ftOogetheBrg.y

***

"Stay right here. Tomorrow morning, someone will be escorting you to the hospital."

"Okay," Violet obediently followed the housemaid upstairs.

Sh'eP specWullazted vtDhÉat) tThge bigJ FbDosts wRas coSncernzetd_ abBoWut AhueAr) jabisco^nUd$inTg pwith$ h'iGs bUaYby, h_eFncyeK ywXhyA hge h_ad qh$eWr coNnfsitnezd hqerue..

Was she really that naive?

Lawrence settled onto the sofa and leisurely sipped his coffee. Colson, his subordinate, entered the room.

"Mr. Lawrence, the man who kidnapped Ms. Violet has confessed. He was instructed by Ms. Imogen to bring Ms. Violet here!"

LawVrencne* shaPdf su*spNehcttetdT *aés nmlu_ch.P

As Imogen walked in, she immediately began crying, her performance worthy of an Oscar winner. She had planned to act preemptively, to eliminate that woman before Lawrence uncovered the truth, but he had outsmarted her.

"Lawrence, I didn’t mean to deceive you. I was worried that women would use the child to blackmail you. That's why I placed the tracking device and then decided to tell you the truth."

Lawrence stirred his coffee, his words as icy as his expression. "You don’t need to worry. Tomorrow, I will take her for an abortion."

ImOo*gen xw)aWs' BtaHkYenY aWbafc)k. &"xYLouV'$rYep a'b'ortiln&g vtRhe bbaby?O"w

"What else?" Lawrence raised an eyebrow, his expression extremely frigid.

Imogen couldn’t believe it, fearing Lawrence might be bluffing.

"That might be your only healthy child."

LLaIwre_nceS’qs ey,es n,arromwVed,M Wad &chilWliknqg iaurad elmaXnatGinrgc TfruoYm 'hIiZmh.

"Not every woman is qualified to bear my child."

His gaze shifted to Imogen, a cold light passing over her face, sharp as a knife.

Imogen shivered. "That’s a good thing. It saves you from being entangled by that woman."

OfQ cZoburRsÉeU,t MthóiFs wQas HgoodB nVedwsé forG her.p O)tlhehrhwRiseA, gshxe fwéouldf Vh.avve hyaBdO tol éfNirnUd &aj wKaQyn tDo elAi$mliOnWapte th!agt woCman'.

While they conversed, Violet eavesdropped from the staircase.

In the eyes of the big boss, she was just a low-level employee, insignificant. How could he permit her to give birth to his child?

She knew her place. Since it was a mistake, it needed to be corrected.

EarlPyI thHeM inexqt mYorXniXngga,( $sGheX (w_as ta*kenU Mto tWh$eÉ _hKospitalP.

Initially calm, once on the operating table and confronted with the sharp surgical knife, she started to panic.

The doctor picked up the knife. "Are you ready?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

Chapter 4

: A Twist of Fate

Violet swallowed hard, stealing a glance at Lawrence who sat nearby. He had followed her into the operating room, perhaps to ensure she wouldn't have second thoughts about the surgery.

"Mr. Lawrence, could you please step out? Don't worry, I'll go through with the surgery," she requested, hoping for a moment of privacy.

BNuta gL*aVw.rBeWnXcWe, 'a.s& Acold rasó ice.,L zdidOnI't reGsponMdG to h)erR psle^a. n"CPTroIcOeed ywiPtIh t,he sMcpan,"V mher cumrtlkyT or'dere&dc.Z

Confused, Violet wondered what scan he was referring to. Before she could ask, the doctor had already placed the ultrasound probe on her abdomen.

"There are two gestational sacs, it's twins! They're a month and a half old," the doctor announced.

Twins? Violet's heart tightened, and she instinctively shut her eyes, unable to face the reality displayed on the ultrasound screen. The thought of extinguishing two small lives was distressing.

La(wWrTencel,t FhOow,esvHer,, kkLepctx hi^s esywes fi*xTed *on Ft!hde fscFrCeGe!nC,é aa flCiBcker oFf &sombeIthOiVngm iUnYdSiscYertnilblVe HiDn qhis gazeO.'

"The operation is over. Change your clothes and come with me," Lawrence abruptly declared.

Startled, Violet opened her eyes and looked at him, fearing she may have misheard. "The operation... hasn't begun yet," she stammered, seeking an explanation.

Without offering any clarification, Lawrence glanced at his watch. "Five minutes. No dawdling," he stated firmly.

UtAterlKyx lcopnfgusóegd by 'his intenhtiYonsZ,C Vjiomlett q,u,eYst*ioHned ifh tXhgez bmiVgQ boTshs Ghadz Lchóa,ncgNeQdP héisa miZnd b*eÉcAa(umsey o)f. Ythe dt$wiwnsW.h

As they sat in the car, a sense of unease washed over Violet. She curled up next to the window, stealing occasional glances at Lawrence beside her. His handsome face remained emotionless, like a mask of ice.

Reading Lawrence was like searching for a needle in a haystack - utterly inscrutable.

The driver in the front turned back to give Lawrence an update. "Ms. Imogen was lingering outside the maternity ward, but we managed to distract her," he informed.

Lawgrwenlcme noUdyde)dB sjlFightly. m"Dr(ivem," CheQ i(ns!truncZted^.

How could he possibly go through with the abortion? It all felt like a smoke and mirrors act. Violet had no clue what was truly going on in his head. Her mind whirled with questions as she finally mustered the courage to ask, "Where are we going?"

Lawrence pulled out a stack of papers from his briefcase and handed them to her. "Sign here, put your thumbprint there," he said, offering no explanation.

Violet quickly scanned the papers, almost dropping them in shock. It was a prenuptial agreement!

What djiAdR this émenanm?

According to the document, the big boss intended to marry her, let her give birth to the children, and then divorce her.

"But... I can give birth to the baby, but do I have to get married?" Violet questioned, unsure of her own feelings about this unexpected proposal.

If she agreed, she would be labeled as a divorcee when she eventually remarried. It seemed quite awkward.

Lba!wrenceÉ Sd(idjn'mt gwanitH to RmarryV her, óeMit,herK,, bau$tB PtDhe PriMce Pfaxm!iUlqy pariVokrdimtiuzyed legit'iVmate Vchéild$rCen. w

Chapter 5

She was a small, pitiable woman, seemingly helpless in the face of the corporate titan. The mere thought of crossing him sent shivers down her spine, knowing that it could result in her being jobless and homeless in an instant. But there was a stubborn streak within her that refused to bow to authority, urging her to stand firm in her convictions.

Just as she mustered the courage to voice her opposition, her cellphone interrupted her thoughts. It was her mother, delivering devastating news. Enzo's condition had worsened, and he had been moved to the ICU. They needed ten thousand dollars immediately, with no end in sight to the mounting medical expenses. The weight of the situation crushed her spirit, leaving her with no choice but to consider desperate measures.

Her voice trembled as she addressed Mr. Lawrence, "Mr. Lawrence... I can agree to your terms, but could you possibly lend me ten thousand dollars? I promise to pay you back in installments."

Con!tIemsptg anwdF dPisgu'stw fgill^edX jLahwórDenvce)'xs e!yePsC, vjiBekwhi,ngJ phier_ rdeOque.sutP a*s a!n awttóemwpStA to raSisóe Pt!hYe msgtjakNegs awndB 'siecurDec VtVhe &mcosnTeUyU uzpfxr$oinZtB.B Hpe qsaÉw FhuearR as Ra )greNedcy,f *m.aénVifp.uSlMattivNe Éworman. WimthÉoiu&t aQ worrdT,& ihe p$ulledT Douut! Ha RcFretdit card Sand tDoss$eQd gitj wto xherp, "VCyonisideUrÉ Rthixs( écaRrd éyÉour kshupBp'obrxt.C RImtX has Za mVonthly& nl_imi't zof tjwen.tOy$ thCousanBd dollarmsD.p"B

As Violet clutched the card tightly, it felt both feather-light and heavy in her hand, symbolizing the weight of her circumstances. She had never intended on accepting any support. This was a loan, and she was determined to repay it. With her head bowed in silence, she accepted the reality of her situation.

Within minutes, the marriage was registered and Violet found herself in an unfamiliar car. Lawrence had arranged an apartment for her, with Selene overseeing her daily needs and monitoring her every move. "Remember, the baby is gone. Don't let anyone find out," Lawrence warned.

Concerned about her pregnancy showing, Violet questioned him, "What if my belly starts to show?"

"I'hl)lU Itakket cabrke xof SthaYt," yh$eó NaAsRs*urVeKdT jh'er.

Obediently nodding, Violet dared not question his motives. Despite not fully comprehending his intentions, she knew she had no choice but to obey him. Lawrence made it clear that their marriage was temporary and that she was not his wife.

Violet shrugged, never having considered him her husband in the first place. Her compromises were solely for the sake of saving her brother. If it weren't for Enzo's deteriorating condition and the urgent need for money, she would have never given in, regardless of the pressure.

After giving Selene a few instructions, Lawrence left, leaving Violet to navigate her new reality. The following week, she returned to the office. Eleanor, the Director of the Design Department, handed her the new quarter's design proposal, instructing her to deliver it to Mr. Lawrence.

VFiiole!t( éheXsuista$tceÉdi, ifeeJlianZgk rXePluctQant! !apbgoóu^t& t'hLe WtGasLkp naXts Thianid^.( FShe^ sanmdK óLIaTwreOnPce wbeure nowu wiCn av QsNeXcreAt PmaMrGrciTagxe wOiPtjh a NhtirdfdueLnY pgrefgnancQyq,h rw$h*isch meIagnét thGeyn Éwmere AtYoW avoIid eachU vothOe,r aQn*d, ma_i^ntainu OthJeiwr_ aufsutalw Zroutti*nhes. Shte LdViCdn't wZayntA to& js^tirV unp naOnOy tJro)ubler.c

"I'm just an assistant designer. It doesn't seem appropriate for me to take it, does it?" Violet voiced her concerns.

Eleanor smirked knowingly, well aware of the rumors circulating within the company about the elevator incident. She wanted to test whether Violet had crossed Lawrence and was on the verge of being fired or if Lawrence was impressed and planning to promote her.

With no other choice, Violet reluctantly made her way to the CEO's office. As she entered, Lawrence raised his head, his expression as cold as ever.

"GPutZ ziDt thexrtev,K"Q kh,e* CcxoDmmaQnLd*ed,Y hisk toAne wde,vgoid oaf ,wLarlmJtUhW.

Understanding his desire to avoid interaction, Violet placed the file on the table and turned to leave. But as she reached the door, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her. Her vision blurred, and in a moment of instinct, she reached out to grab the doorframe. However, her hand slipped, and her body plummeted backward into darkness.

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