Dear Billionaire, The Twins Aren't YoursEN

Stella's POV

I stared at the pregnancy test sitting on the counter, repeating to myself, 'Stop, Stella. It can't be. It's not possible.'

For weeks, I'd been lying to myself. But the missed period, the dizziness, the nausea… they'd already become part of my routine.

In the end, I couldn't fight it anymore.

Three months ago, I had signed a contract with Damian Winter, my boss.

In that contract, I agreed to satisfy his sexual needs in absolute secrecy, on the condition that I took birth control regularly to prevent any pregnancy. If a pregnancy happened, I would have to pay ten times what he had paid me. An impossible amount for someone like me, who was still struggling to pay off my late father's gambling debts.

The memory of the night before still burned beneath my skin.

I closed my eyes and, for a moment, I was dragged back to that bedroom. His scent still clung to the sheets. The shadows were broken only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Heavy breathing filled the silence.

Damian lay me back against the pillows as if he were handling something fragile. His eyes were dark, locked onto mine with an intensity that made me forget, for a second, that this was just a contract.

He leaned over me, his breath brushing my skin before his lips did. His first kiss wasn't on my mouth. It was on the curve of my neck. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, arching beneath him, surrendering to his touch like someone already condemned to pleasure.

His hands slid firmly up my thighs, demanding.

"Look at me," he ordered as he pushed inside me in one single movement, his eyes fixed on mine, like he wanted to watch me fall apart from the inside.

And I did.

The world disappeared. There was nothing but him inside me, the weight of his body over mine, the unbearable heat of his skin against mine.

He moved with force. His fingers laced with mine for a brief second, and when I realized it, he had already let go. As if he'd betrayed himself.

I wanted to feel nothing. But my body screamed for him, as if it had been made for this.

"Damian…"

I could hear my own voice moaning his name.

I opened my eyes, snapping back to reality.

A sob tore from my throat before I could stop it. I tipped my head back, fighting to keep air in my lungs.

I gathered my courage, picked up the test, and with unsteady steps, walked into the bathroom. My fingers shook as I held the package and tore it open. My stomach twisted so hard I had to brace myself against the sink to keep from collapsing.

I followed the instructions like a machine, barely thinking, trying to block out the panic threatening to swallow me whole. I set the test on the counter and stepped back, like it was radioactive.

Three minutes. That was what the instructions said.

I paced back and forth in the cramped space, arms crossed tightly over my chest.

"It's impossible. I took the pills exactly right. I did what he told me to do. Just like the contract said. I have to be protected."

The alarm on my phone went off. I took a deep breath and walked back to the sink. When I finally looked at the window—

Two lines. Positive.

"No…" I whispered. "No, this can't be happening…"

My phone started vibrating on the counter, snapping me out of my shock. I grabbed it with trembling hands.

It was Damian.

I swallowed hard and answered.

"What is this message about you not coming into work today?" he asked, irritation clear in his voice.

I tried to steady myself.

"I… I'm not feeling well."

Silence.

Then a short, humorless laugh.

"Oh, this again?" he muttered. "I was more than generous last night. There's no reason for this, Stella."

My heart was pounding too fast. The truth burned in my throat. I had to tell him. I needed to—

"Damian, I—"

"Enough with the drama, Stella," he cut in sharply. "Get dressed and be at the office by nine."

The call ended.

I stared at the screen, at the warped reflection of my face in the black glass.

He hung up before I could speak.

The tears came quietly at first, then turned into sobs that shook my entire body. I sank down onto the floor and buried my face in my hands.

I heard the front door open, but I didn't move.

"Stella?" Leah's voice echoed through the apartment, tired after work. "I'm home!"

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

"Stella?" She appeared in the bathroom doorway and froze when she saw me on the floor, crying. "Oh my God… what happened?"

Leah rushed to me, dropped to her knees, and pulled me into her arms.

"What is it? Are you hurt?"

"I… I'm…" My voice broke apart. "I'm pregnant…"

"Pregnant?" she repeated, stunned, glancing at the tests scattered on the floor. Then she hugged me tighter. "Oh, Stella…"

"I broke the contract," I whispered against her shoulder. "I have to pay ten times what he gave me. I don't have that kind of money, Leah." My voice dropped to a whisper, my eyes fixed on nothing. "It's impossible to pay ten times what he paid me over the past three months."

"Stella…" Leah murmured, worry written all over her face.

"I don't have a choice," I said quietly, my voice almost lifeless. "The only way out… is to end the pregnancy. Before it's too late."

"Easy. Let's go to the living room, calm down, drink some water," she said. I let her pull me along. I sat down and drank the water she handed me. "You were saying you're going to… that you're thinking about…"

I nodded shakily, my stomach twisting as I silently formed the word I couldn't bring myself to say out loud. Abortion.

"I can't have this baby, Leah. He'll destroy me. He'll think I did this on purpose. He'll hate me. He'll fire me. He'll sue me."

"But… is that really what you want?" she asked softly. "Are you sure?"

I opened my mouth to answer. Nothing came out.

For a second, I saw a vague image of the future: a small, fragile child calling me Mom. My chest tightened, and this time it wasn't fear.

"I…" I placed a hand over my stomach. "I don't know. I don't know what to do, Leah. But… what if this is all I have? What if this baby is… the only good thing to come out of all this?"

She leaned forward and took my hands.

"Then listen to me," she said, her eyes full of tenderness. "Damian might seem like a monster, but he's not going to hold you to a contract now. This is a life. His child. You need to tell him. Before you decide anything. Before you go to any clinic. You need to tell him. I'm sure he doesn't take that contract as seriously as you think. It was just a way to protect himself. You'll see."

But I didn't believe her. He took everything seriously. Worse than that, he would think I'd gotten pregnant on purpose, trying to use a future heir to claim his fortune.

"Wait…" I said when the TV playing in the living room caught my attention. On the screen, a headline crushed me. [Damian Winter gets engaged to Sophie Peterson, heiress to a wealthy family.]

I swallowed hard.

A sharp pain pierced my stomach.

He had said, "You can only be my secretary."

Just a secretary. Not a wife.

I would never have a place by his side.

And in that moment, I made my decision.

I needed to run. To a place far away from Damian Winter's reach.