Accidentally Pregnant With The Billionaire Heir

"Because your sacrifices were made entirely at my expense," I say. I shove his hands off my shoulders with a violent, forceful push. I take a definitive step backward, creating a wide physical barrier between us. "Don’t ever touch me again."

Julian scoffs. “Do you think you have the right to be acting this high and mighty?”

“Excuse me?”

“Whose fault is it that you didn’t finish school? This is honestly all your fault, Emily. You can’t completely blame me. I’m just a man who wanted the best.”

Desperation looks incredibly pathetic on a man wearing a bespoke burgundy suit.

Julian stands under the glowing crystal chandelier in the dim hallway of Bordeaux 101. His face is a mottled, angry red as he spills utter nonsense from his mouth. His chest heaves against his tailored vest. He just blamed his infidelity on his parents. He just demanded my understanding and after I refused to understand him, he’s now blaming me for his actions.

The continuous audacity of his words strikes a completely raw nerve deep within my chest.

I look at him and see an absolute stranger. The man I loved died a long time ago. I mourn the ghost of the boy who held an umbrella over my head in the freezing rain at the cemetery. I recall the events of three years ago with crystal clarity one more time. My grandmother passed away. The Vance family forced me to drop out of medical school. They cut off all my funding and tossed me aside. Julian appeared in the middle of that storm. He was my salvation in a world designed to crush me.

Now, he’s just a liar in an expensive suit. The devastation of his betrayal cuts deeper for some reason. I thought asking him for a reason would give me some kind of closure. But the stupid reasons he has given me make me feel a sharp, bitter pang of regret. I truly didn’t want our final parting to end in such a humiliating, public ugliness. I wanted to walk away with my dignity intact.

I force the rising tide of fury down into a tight, hard box. I draw in a slow, deep breath. The rich scent of roasted garlic and expensive red wine fills my lungs. I square my shoulders under my black blazer. I arrange my facial features into a mask of absolute, freezing calm.

"You’re completely right, Julian." I keep my voice perfectly level one more time. "This is entirely my fault. I don’t know why I expected basic loyalty from a coward."

He blinks. The words don’t compute in his arrogant brain.

"We broke up months ago," I continue. "It’s completely over. I genuinely wish you and Chloe a very long, very happy life together. I hope your corporate careers flourish and bring you everything you desire."

The smug entitlement drains out of Julian in an instant. The reality finally crashes through his thick skull. I think he sees that I truly no longer want him. I’m walking away forever. His brown eyes widen in sheer, unadulterated panic.

"No." His voice trembles. The sound is weak and desperate. "Emily, wait. You can’t just leave me. We have so much history together. I made a mistake but I love you. I can’t live without you."

He lunges forward before I can take a single step back. He wraps his long arms tightly around my torso. He pulls me into a crushing, desperate embrace. He squeezes my ribs with excessive force.

The intense pressure grinds directly against my torn shoulder muscles. The violent recoil from the heavy training pistol this afternoon left my joints incredibly raw. White-hot pain shoots straight down my spine.

"Stop!" I cry out sharply. The agony is blinding. I push my bandaged hands against his solid chest. I struggle frantically to break his iron grip. He only squeezes harder, burying his face in my hair.

Heavy footsteps pound against the polished marble floor. Leo charges forward to intervene. His dark security suit jacket flares open. He reaches out with massive hands to grab Julian by the collar and rip him away from me.

Thank goodness we’re not in the main restaurant anymore but in the hallway. Our only audience right now is the receptionist, although she seems to be enjoying the shout.

But one receptionist enjoying our show is a way better option than creating a huge scene in front of elites and we would have probably made the headlines first thing tomorrow.

A new voice cuts through the chaos before Leo makes contact.

"What exactly do you think you’re doing here in the hallway?"

The tone drips with playful, arrogant mockery. Julian freezes. The sudden interruption breaks his manic concentration. I shove him backward with all my remaining strength. I stumble away, clutching my throbbing right shoulder. Leo steps smoothly between us, shielding my body completely from any further assault.

His fists are clenched so tightly that it looks like he’s about to punch a hole in the wall from anger.

I look past Leo’s broad back. A man stands a few feet away in the corridor. He is wearing a sharp silver-gray suit that glimmers in the light. Thin wire-rimmed glasses rest on the bridge of his nose. He has a lean, athletic build and an incredibly sharp jawline. He projects an aura of relaxed, absolute authority.

Leo pauses his advance. He assesses the newcomer with cold, analytical precision. He measures the physical threat of the silver-suited man in a fraction of a second.

Julian turns around. He glares at the newcomer with pure, cold disdain. He straightens his wrinkled burgundy jacket. "Mind your own business, President Sterling."

The title clicks into place in my brain. Dr. Aris mentioned two specific candidates tonight. One surnamed Thorne. One surnamed Sterling. This man is Victor Sterling. He’s the direct corporate rival currently competing against Julian for my SN1818 formula.

Victor Sterling slides his hands casually into his trouser pockets. He smiles a smooth, practiced smile. "Julian Thorne, sexual harassment is very much my business when it happens right in front of me in a public restaurant."

The direct accusation destroys Julian’s fragile composure completely. He lets out a loud, angry snarl. He lunges forward past Leo. He grabs Victor Sterling by the lapels of his expensive silver suit in two tight fists.

Victor doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even raise his hands to defend himself. He simply looks down at Julian’s gripping fingers like it’s a pesky inconvenience.

"Are you merely lashing out in embarrassment, Julian?" Victor Sterling asks. His voice remains perfectly steady and it sounds like he’s constantly mocking Julian.

Julian grinds his teeth together. The muscles in his jaw jump rapidly under his skin. He desperately wants to throw a violent punch. He hesitates.

The incredibly powerful Bordeaux faction backs Victor entirely. Throwing a physical punch in this specific building means instant corporate suicide for Thorne Medical.

Julian slowly, reluctantly releases the fabric. He steps back, suppressing his violent rage with visible, shaking effort. He smooths the wrinkled lapels of the silver suit with jerky, angry motions.

The sharp clicking of low heels approaches our group. A waitress in a crisp black uniform steps cautiously into the corridor. She holds a leather-bound menu against her chest.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. Do you require any assistance?" she asks cautiously.

Victor Sterling gestures loosely in my direction with a nod of his head. "Direct that question to the lady. She’s the one being assaulted."

The waitress turns her head. Her eyes widen slightly. She recognizes me immediately from the other afternoon when I paid the massive dinner bill. Her cautious, professional expression morphs instantly into friendly enthusiasm.

"Miss Vance," the waitress says brightly. "Do you need me to call security for you?"

I shake my head quickly. Calling security means involving the restaurant owner. Warren is a smiling, calculating viper. I could tell the second I met him and then Alistair’s warning only solidified my caution and need to avoid him. I absolutely refuse to draw his attention or owe him any favors whatsoever. I need to keep my profile extremely low tonight.

"No, thank you. Everything is fine. I don’t need security." I force a polite, tight smile onto my lips.

Julian watches this exchange closely. A smug, victorious smirk spreads across his red face as he once again misinterprets my action. He puffs his chest out proudly. He actually believes I declined security to protect him from the consequences. He mistakenly thinks I still harbor deep, romantic feelings for him. The sheer depth of his delusion is truly staggering.

Victor Sterling looks mildly surprised by my quick refusal. He pushes his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose with a single finger. He assesses me with a new, curious light in his eyes.

"It appears this is just a domestic misunderstanding," Victor remarks smoothly. He steps back, preparing to take his leave and return to the main dining room.

Julian adjusts his burgundy vest. He wants the final word. He wants to assert his dominance in front of me.

"I’m absolutely determined to secure the collaboration with Dr. Grayson," Julian boldly declares. His voice echoes loudly in the corridor. "You’re completely wasting your time here tonight, Victor. I’m going to win that patent."

Victor stops walking. He turns slowly back to face Julian. The playful mockery vanishes entirely from his sharp features. The atmosphere in the hallway grows incredibly thick with raw, aggressive hostility. The soft jazz music in the background feels completely out of place.

The two corporate rivals lock eyes. The silence stretches tightly between them.

I stand behind Leo and listen. Julian is bragging about winning a patent that I personally control. The irony is delicious and completely sickening at the same time. He has absolutely no idea that Dr. Grayson is the woman he just tried to assault in a hallway.

"The final outcome remains anyone’s guess," Victor asserts confidently. He projects absolute, unwavering dominance. He doesn’t view Julian as a serious threat.

Julian scoffs loudly. He waves a dismissive hand in the air. "Guess all you want. Dr. Aris will surely put in a good word for me. My connections are unmatched."

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. His unmatched connection is my treacherous stepsister. The crystal chandeliers above us cast fractured prisms of light across the marble floor. The entire restaurant operates as a playground for the incredibly wealthy. It’s a place where deals are forged over truffles and ruined lives. Julian fits perfectly into this environment. He believes his wealth shields him from basic human decency.

My right shoulder throbs with a dull, rhythmic ache. The heavy training pistol demands absolute physical perfection. My muscles are strained and inflamed. Julian’s violent embrace aggravated every single micro-tear in my tissue. I roll my shoulder slowly, wincing at the sharp spike of pain that travels up my neck. Leo tracks the movement from the corner of his eye. His protective stance widens slightly. He’s entirely prepared to drop Julian to the floor if the man takes one more aggressive step in my direction.

I look at Victor Sterling. He represents a massive unknown variable in my business plan. He’s calm under pressure. He commands respect without raising his voice. He’s the exact opposite of Julian’s frantic, desperate energy. Dr. Aris shortlisted him for a very good reason. I’ll need to analyze his corporate prospectus with extreme caution.

Julian stands there, bathing in his own fabricated victory. He truly believes the SN1818 formula is within his grasp. He thinks his money and his lies will pave a golden road to pharmaceutical dominance. He doesn’t realize he’s standing in a maze entirely designed by me.

I turn my back on Julian Thorne for the final time. I don’t offer him another glance or another word. I step around Leo and follow the waitress toward the private dining booths. The heavy velvet curtains partition the rooms, offering absolute privacy for the high-stakes negotiations ahead. I leave the two men to their posturing in the hallway. I have an empire to build.