Chapter 352
Madison
“No,” I whispered, shaking the test as if that might change the result. “No, no, no p>
We’d used protection. Hadn’t we? The night blurred with whiskey and passion, but I was almost certain…
Almost wasn’t good enough when it came to birth control.
I sank to the floor, head in my hands. A baby. Alexander Knight’s baby.
“Madison?” Mom called from the living room. “Everything okay in there p>
I shoved the pregnancy test into my makeup bag. “Fine! Just… trying a new face mask p>
“Well, hurry up. Your breakfast is getting cold p>
I splashed cold water on my face and took several deep breaths. Panic wouldn’t help. I needed a plan.
The pregnancy test sat accusingly in my makeup bag, those two pink lines representing a future I hadn’t planned for. My life, which had finally started stabilizing, was about to implode all over again.
I studied my reflection in the mirror. “You’re going to handle this,” I whispered to myself. “One step at a time p>
First step: confirm the pregnancy with a doctor. At–home tests could be wrong.
Second step: decide what I wanted to do, regardless of Alexander’s input.
Third step: tell Alexander.
My stomach churned at the thought of that conversation. How would he react? Would he want me to keep it? Would he suggest terminating the pregnancy? Would he accuse me of trying to trap him?
“Madison! Your eggs are getting rubbery!” Mom called from the kitchen.
“Coming!” I shouted back, tucking the test deeper into my makeup bag.
Mom had prepared a full breakfast: eggs, toast, bacon, and orange juice. The smell revolted my stomach.
“You’re looking pale,” she noted, setting a plate in front of me. “Working too hard p>
I forced a smile. “Just a little tired p>
“That boss of yours needs to give you a break.” She sat across from me, sipping her coffee. “When are you bringing Alexander over for dinner again p>
“He’s been busy with some big projects lately p>
“Well, tell him he’s welcome anytime. It’s nice to see you with someone who appreciates you p>
If only she knew.
I pushed eggs around my plate, managing a few bites before excusing myself to get ready for work.
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In the privacy of my room, I googled “early pregnancy symptoms” and “pregnancy options NYC.” Information overload. Keep it? Terminate? Adoption? My head spun with possibilities.
I had a good job, a stable income, and a support system in Mom and Hazel. I could raise a child on my own if
necessary.
But did I want to?
The thought of being tied to Alexander Knight for the next eighteen years (minimum) made my stomach drop. What if he wanted nothing to do with the baby? Worse, what if he tried to take control, as he did with everything
else in his life?
I closed the tabs and got dressed.
In the cab to work, I pulled out my phone and hovered over Alexander’s contact. This wasn’t a text conversation. Or even a phone call. This needed to be face–to–face.
I slipped my phone back into my purse and watched the city blur past the window. The facts were simple: I was pregnant with Alexander Knight’s baby. The complications were endless.
Knight Industries loomed ahead, glass and steel reflecting the morning sun. I paid the driver and stepped out, squaring my shoulders.
The lobby buzzed with the usual morning energy. I nodded to the security guards and headed for the elevator.
The elevator doors closed, and I leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. Morning sickness or just anxiety?
Hard to tell.
When I arrived on the executive floor, I walked straight to Alexander’s office. Through the glass doors, I could
see that it was dark.
I retreated to my office, closing the door behind me. I had a full day to plan my approach. Maybe the universe was giving me a gift.
I threw myself into work, reviewing contractor bids and schedule adjustments. Anything to keep my mind off the growing life inside me.
Around 11 AM, my stomach growled, reminding me I’d barely touched breakfast. The baby needed nutrients, regardless of my emotional state,
I headed to the cafeteria, craving something salty. The line moved quickly, and I grabbed a turkey sandwich and sparkling water.
Finding a quiet corner, I sat alone, grateful for the relative privacy. The sandwich tasted better than expected, or maybe I was just hungrier than I realized.
The cafeteria hummed with the usual lunchtime chatter, providing white noise as I scrolled through emails on my phone.
“Did you hear about Mr. Knight p>
I froze mid–bite. The voice came from the table behind me, just loud enough to catch my attention but not
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intended for my ears.
“What about him?” Another voice responded.
“He’s getting engaged to Katherine Sinclair p>
My sandwich suddenly tasted like cardboard. I set it down slowly, straining to hear more without being obvious.
“For real this time? They’ve been on and off for years p>
“Apparently, it’s the real deal. My cousin works at Vogue and says they’re planning a feature on them. Wedding in a few months p>
“Guess that explains why he’s been in such a good mood lately p>
They laughed, and I felt sick. The sandwich in my hand might as well have been made of sand. My stomach clenched, and I set it down on my plate, suddenly unable to swallow.
Engaged? Alexander and Katherine were getting engaged?
I shook my head slightly. Workplace gossip was notoriously unreliable. Just last month, someone started a rumor that we were installing an on–site daycare, which turned out to be completely false. This was probably
the same.
I took a deep breath and picked up my sandwich again. Gossip was just gossip. Until I heard otherwise from a reliable source, preferably Alexander himself, I wouldn’t give it another thought.
I wrapped up the remainder of my sandwich and headed to the meeting, forcing thoughts of Alexander, Katherine, and the pregnancy test to the back of my mind.
The meeting ran longer than expected, with contractors haggling over timeline adjustments and material costs. By the time we finished, it was nearly five o’clock.
I returned to my office and collapsed into my chair, suddenly exhausted. My gaze fell on the photo of Mom and me on my desk, taken at her birthday party last year. She looked so happy, so healthy.
What would she say if she knew about the baby? Would she be thrilled to be a grandmother? Disappointed in me?
The next morning, I staggered into the office, nursing a headache and a sense of dread.
“Good morning, Ms. Harper,” chirped Lucia from reception, her smile too bright for my fragile state.
“Morning,” I mumbled, making a beeline for the elevator.
The doors slid open to reveal a group of marketing executives huddled around someone’s phone. They fell silent when I entered, exchanging meaningful glances.
“Did you see the news?” one of them whispered to another, not quite quietly enough.
“What news?” I asked, unable to help myself.
The woman holding the phone hesitated, then turned the screen toward me. “Just hit the gossip sites this morning p>
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The headline punched me in the gut: “KNIGHT INDUSTRIES CEO TO WED FASHION MOGUL KATHERINE SINCLAIR p>
Below was a photo of Alexander and Katherine at a gala. His hand was possessively at the small of her back, and her diamond–adorned fingers rested on his chest. They looked perfect together.
“Congratulations are in order for the happy couple,” the article began. “Sources close to Alexander Knight confirm that the billionaire CEO has proposed to longtime girlfriend Katherine Sinclair, with plans for a wedding in the coming months p>
Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.