Accidentally Pregnant With The Billionaire Heir

It is entirely too late for Julian Thorne. I will sit across from him at Bordeaux 101 tomorrow night. I will watch him present his aggressive offer. I will let him think he has a chance to win the patent. And then, I will personally destroy his bid and his arrogance.

I carry that vendetta for the whole day and repeat it in my mind till the day of my meeting with Dr. Aris arrives. And now, I’m a few minutes away from coming face-to-face with him.

Riding a glass box one hundred and one floors above the pavement is an excellent way to test your nerve.

The panoramic elevator glides smoothly up the exterior of the Etland Tower. I stand near the curved glass window and look down. The massive city stretches out in every direction. Streetlights illuminate the grid of roads. Car headlights flow like tiny red and white blood cells pumping through concrete veins. The sky above is completely dark, creating a perfect backdrop for the neon signs glowing across the financial district.

Today, I’m not wearing a simple outfit as I usually do. I can’t afford to do that right before meeting with an enemy that shattered my heart to pieces.

I’m putting on a tailored black blazer over a neatly ironed white silk blouse. My dark trousers fall perfectly over polished black ankle boots. This is one of the new clothes Alistair filled my wardrobe with. I look exactly like a woman arriving for a high-stakes corporate negotiation. I certainly do not look like a struggling girl who has been cast aside by the people she was supposed to call her family. I don’t look like a woman without a degree or anything attached to her name.

I look, and I feel powerful.

Leo stands two feet to my right. His dark security suit absorbs the ambient light from the elevator ceiling panels. He keeps his hands clasped loosely in front of him. His posture is relaxed but entirely alert. He watches the floor numbers tick upward on the digital display.

The pressure drops, and it makes my ears pop softly.

The elevator slows to a gentle halt. The silver doors slide open with a quiet mechanical whisper.

We step out into the reception area of Bordeaux 101. The atmosphere is completely different from the afternoon lunch rush. The lighting is incredibly dim and moody. Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, projecting a warm golden glow over the mahogany tables. The rich, heavy aroma of roasted garlic, seared steak, and expensive red wine saturates the air. Soft jazz music plays from hidden speakers, mingling with the polite clinking of silverware against fine china.

A receptionist stands behind a polished marble podium. She wears a sharp black dress and a welcoming smile. She is not the same arrogant woman who tried to kick me out the other day, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Good evening," the receptionist says. She bows her head respectfully. "Welcome to Bordeaux 101. Do you have a reservation?"

"My name is Emily Va...Emily Wolfe. I am meeting Dr. Aris," I reply.

"Ah, yes. Mrs. Wolfe." Her smile widens. She picks up a leather-bound menu. "The doctor is waiting in his private booth. Please, follow me."

She turns and walks gracefully down the main dining aisle. I follow her lead. Leo falls into step right behind me. We pass several tables filled with wealthy patrons in expensive evening wear. Some turn to look at us, while some don’t even notice us passing.

"Emily."

The voice cuts through the saxophone music. The sound of my name spoken in that specific, condescending tone makes my skin crawl. I recognize the voice even without turning to look at the person.

I keep walking. I look straight ahead at the back of the receptionist.

Rapid footsteps click sharply against the marble floor. A figure steps directly out from a side corridor and plants himself right in the middle of the narrow aisle.

Julian Thorne blocks my path.

I stop abruptly. My boots squeak slightly on the polished stone. Leo steps up beside me instantly, his broad shoulders shielding my right side.

Julian is wearing a dark burgundy suit that perfectly fits his frame. I instantly recognize the suit as one that I got for him for his 27th birthday. I broke my back and worked my ass off just to buy a good gift for the man I loved. A crisp white pocket square peeks out from his chest. His dark brown hair is styled back with exact precision. He smells of spicy cologne and absolute arrogance. He looks like a man who expects the entire world to bow at his feet.

"I called your name," Julian says. “Did you not hear me?” His jaw tightens. He stares down at me with hard brown eyes.

"I heard you," I say. I cross my arms over my chest. I keep my expression completely blank. I don’t want to show him my anger or even my irritation because he’s not worth any emotion from me at all. "I chose to ignore you. Move out of my way."

Julian does not move a single inch, of course. I didn’t even expect him to because he’s the kind of man who doesn’t like to be told what to do. He plants his expensive leather shoes firmly on the floor. He glances at Leo, assessing the threat, then looks back at me.

"What are you doing here?" Julian demands. He keeps his volume carefully controlled, but the anger bleeds through his tone. I honestly don’t know what I ever did to this man to deserve this kind of hate. All I ever did was love him and do my best to be a supportive fiancée. He chased me, told me he loved me, proposed to me, and now he’s acting like I’m a gum he stepped on by the street and can’t seem to get rid of.

"This is a private dining club,” he continues. “You do not belong on this floor or even in this building."

I let out a short, cold laugh. The sheer audacity of his entitlement is almost impressive.

"My dining habits are absolutely none of your business," I say. I tilt my chin up and meet his angry stare. "Do try to remember your place, Julian. We broke up. You are my ex-boyfriend. You lost the right to interrogate me about my whereabouts months ago."

The color drains rapidly from Julian’s cheeks. His skin turns a pale, sickly shade of gray under the warm chandelier light. His nostrils flare. He hates being reminded of his diminished status. He hates losing control.

What exactly did he expect? That he’d tell me I don’t belong here, and I’ll start shaking in my boots begging him to let me stay.

"I don’t know what you think you’re going or who you think is backing you, but you are playing very dangerous games, Emily," Julian says. He steps half an inch closer. I feel Leo move too, but he keeps his calm. Julian points a finger at my face. "How exactly did you manage to antagonize Silas Hunt?"

I raise an eyebrow. The mention of the local street boss catches me slightly off guard. I quickly piece the information together. Silas must have clearly visited the Vance household again to collect his debt. I don’t know if my father would ever be able to pay that debt. Chloe must have run straight to Julian, crying and somehow finding a way to blame me for all the family woes.

An incredibly clear image forms in my mind. I picture the pristine, overly decorated Vance family living room. I imagine Silas Hunt limping through their front door, swinging his heavy brass cane. I see Chloe screaming. I picture our parents cowering in the corner while thugs shred their custom velvet sofas and smash their expensive porcelain vases.

A warm, deeply satisfying feeling spreads through the center of my chest.

Thomas and Lydia Vance sold me out to a violent criminal for ten million dollars. They locked me in a dark storage room without food or water. They thought they could profit from my suffering without facing any consequences. Now, the very monster they invited into our lives is tearing their precious world apart.

Sometimes, it takes one villain to take down another. It is a flawless, self-correcting ecosystem that I’m slowly learning to thrive in. I offer Julian a slow, icy smirk.

"Silas Hunt is a grown man," I say. I drop my arms to my sides. "He makes his own choices. If he decided to visit your new girlfriend and her lovely family, they probably deserved it."

Julian drops his hand. His chest heaves against his burgundy vest. He grips the edge of his suit jacket and yanks it downward in a sharp, aggressive motion.

"Listen to me very carefully," Julian spits. His voice is a harsh whisper. "You need to keep Chloe out of your mess. Do not drag her, your dad, or your mum into your petty, low-class gang wars."

I look at him in complete disbelief. He genuinely believes I am the instigator. He actually thinks I orchestrated the attack on the Vance family out of spite. He is completely blind to the reality of their greed and the fact that they are suffering the consequences of the decisions they made by themselves.

"You are delusional," I say. I shake my head slowly. "I did not send Silas anywhere. They took a loan from him that they knew they wouldn’t be able to repay. With their own hands, they invited the devil to dinner. They can deal with the check."

Leo seems to have had enough, and so he steps forward. He inserts his massive frame directly between Julian and me. The physical barrier is undeniable.

"Please step aside, sir," Leo instructs. His voice is calm, professional, and completely lethal. "You are blocking the walkway."

Julian looks up at Leo. He swallows hard. The physical intimidation works instantly. Julian takes a slow, reluctant step backward, clearing the path.

"This is not over, Emily," Julian mutters. He straightens his tie and glares at me over Leo’s shoulder.

"It ended a long time ago, Julian." I turn my back on him. "You just refuse to accept it."

The receptionist waits patiently a few yards ahead. She pretends she did not hear a single word of the exchange. I follow her toward the private dining booths lining the back wall of the restaurant. The soft jazz music covers the sound of Julian’s retreating footsteps.

I take a deep breath. The scent of roasted garlic fills my lungs. I push Julian Thorne completely out of my mind, even though I know I’ll still be seeing him. I have a multi-million-dollar negotiation to win.