I'm Pregnant, And It Isn't My Husband's
Olivia Pearson is just a pawn – a wife bought to rescue her father's ailing business. Her husband, Sebastian, maintains his icy grip over her life and escape feels like a pipe dream. But when Olivia uncovers the secrets of his empire filled with lies and illicit dealings, she decides to take control. The more she tries to figure things out, the more she realizes that the only person who can assist her might be Ethan Blackwood, Sebastian's brother, and the man who has captured her heart.
Now Olivia is sandwiched between two brothers. The choice to make is simple but painfully difficult; the husband who owns her or the difficult, yet enticing lover who comes with freedom.
It remains to be seen what is more perilous: that decision, or the consequences that follow.
THIS IS A SIZZLING NEW ROMANCE – NO HANDS!
Chapters
Share
Chapter 6
The elevator ride lasted an eternity.
Sebastian's hand burned like a brand on Olivia's arm, his fingers digging deep enough to leave marks she'd feel tomorrow. He hadn't spoken since dragging her from the gala.
The slap still throbbed across her cheek.
The elevator doors opened to the penthouse. Sebastian released her suddenly, and she stumbled forward, catching herself on the back of the sofa. She turned to face him, touching her cheek where the heat still pulsed.
Sebastian stood motionless, watching her. His bow tie hung loose around his neck, his jacket discarded somewhere between the car and the elevator. In the dim light of the penthouse, he looked less like the polished businessman who'd escorted her to the gala and more like something feral that had finally been unleashed.
"What did he say to you?"
His voice came out quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that preceded earthquakes.
Olivia's throat closed. "Nothing. He was just-"
"Don't." Sebastian crossed the space between them in three strides. "Don't lie to me, Olivia. What promises did my brother make?"
She lifted her chin, defiance flaring through the fear. "He asked if I was okay. That's all."
"That's all?" The sound that left him wasn't a laugh so much as a wound tearing open. "He followed you into a bathroom, put his hands on you, and that's all?"
"You were too busy with Isadora to notice if I was breathing, let alone okay."
Sebastian's eyes went dark, that terrifying emptiness she'd learned meant danger.
"Isadora is business," he said, his voice dropping lower. "You are my wife."
"Your property, you mean." The anger felt good, burning away the humiliation of the evening. "Just another asset in your portfolio."
Sebastian moved closer, forcing her back against the sofa. "Did he tell you he could save you? That he'd rescue you from the monster?" His fingers caught her chin, tilting her face up. "That's always been Ethan's weakness. He thinks love conquers all, that being the hero makes him better than me."
"Maybe it does."
His grip tightened. "Love makes you weak. It makes you stupid. It makes you..." He trailed off, something flickering across his face before the mask slammed back into place. "It makes you vulnerable."
"And you're never vulnerable." It wasn't a question.
"Never." He released her chin, stepping back. "Strip."
Olivia's hands flew to her chest. "What?"
"You heard me." Sebastian loosened his cufflinks, the small sound impossibly loud in the silence. "Every inch of you belongs to me. I think it's time you remembered that."
Her pulse roared in her ears. "No."
"No?" He tilted his head. "Section 8, paragraph 3. Would you like me to read it to you?"
The contract. Always the contract. That piece of paper that had signed away more than her name.
"Please," she whispered, hating herself for begging. "Not like this."
"Then tell me what Ethan said. Word for word."
Her mind raced. If she told him about Ethan's offer to help her escape, about the way he'd touched her face like she was something precious instead of purchased, Sebastian would destroy him. But if she didn't...
"He said..." She swallowed hard. "He said I was more than what you'd reduced me to."
Sebastian went perfectly still. "And what did you say?"
"Nothing. You arrived before I could answer."
"Before you could agree to run away with him, you mean." His voice carried no inflection, which somehow made it worse. "Before you could break our contract and destroy everything."
"I didn't agree to anything! I told him about my father, about the deal. I told him I couldn't leave."
"Couldn't?" Sebastian stepped closer again. "Or wouldn't?"
Before she could answer, his hands found the zipper of her gown. The sound of it sliding down made her flinch, but he moved with brutal efficiency, peeling the silk away until it pooled at her feet. She stood in nothing but the diamond collar at her throat and her heels, exposed and trembling.
"Don't move," he commanded.
Sebastian circled her slowly, his gaze cataloging every inch of her skin. Olivia fought the urge to cover herself, to run, to scream. This was worse than if he'd touched her. This clinical assessment, this inventory of assets.
"My brother's hands were here." His finger traced her jaw without touching. "And here." Her waist. "What else did he touch, Olivia?"
"Nothing." Her voice cracked. "He didn't-we didn't-"
"But you wanted to." Sebastian stopped in front of her. "I saw how you looked at him. Like he was salvation and I'm damnation."
"You are damnation."
For a heartbeat, something raw flickered across Sebastian's face. Then it hardened into stone.
"On your knees."
"What?" she whispered, though she understood perfectly.
"I said," Sebastian repeated, his voice deadly quiet as he loosened his tie, "on your knees."
When she hesitated, his hand shot out, gripping her shoulder and forcing her down.
Horror and humiliation washed through her as he freed his penis, already hard.
"Open your mouth," he commanded.
Tears stung Olivia's eyes as she looked up at him. "I've never-"
"I know." His smile was cruel as he gripped her jaw. "Which makes this all the more satisfying."
His thumb pressed against the corner of her mouth, forcing it open. "Consider this your first lesson in obedience."
Sebastian guided himself to her lips, his other hand fisted in her hair. "Take it," he ordered. "Show me you understand who owns you."
Trembling, Olivia parted her lips. He pushed forward, filling her mouth, making her gag as he hit the back of her throat.
"Breathe through your nose," he instructed coldly. "And use your tongue."
Tears streamed down her face as Sebastian set a brutal pace, holding her head still as he thrust. His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling until it hurt.
"Look at me," he demanded. When she raised her tear-filled eyes, he smiled. "There. That's what I want to see. The moment you finally understand your place."
His movements grew more erratic, his breathing heavier. With a final thrust, he held her in place as he finished, forcing her to swallow his cum.
When he finally finished, he released her so suddenly she collapsed onto the cold marble.
"Your body's contaminated," Sebastian said, tucking his penis back into his trousers. "Ethan's filthy hands all over you. I can't fuck something that's been touched by him."
"Then let me go," she spat on the floor. "If I'm so contaminated, tear up the contract and release me."
A cruel smile ghosted over Sebastian's lips "And give you exactly what you want? Where's the fun in that?"
He stepped over her like she was debris, walking toward his bedroom without looking back.
"Clean yourself up. You look pathetic."
You may also like
8.4
I was drugged and sent to a hotel room to be compromised, but I ended up in the presidential suite with a stranger.
I didn't know the man I clung to in my hallucinogenic haze was my own husband, Devaughn Winters, a man I hadn't spoken to in a year.
When I woke up the next morning, the terror of what I’d done hit me like a physical blow. I fled, leaving behind nothing but a shredded dress and a lingering sense of dread.
I thought I’d finally escaped the cold, suffocating contract of our marriage when I signed the divorce papers, but I was wrong.
My mother-in-law arrived at my apartment, freezing my sick mother’s medical funds and threatening to ruin me for the "infidelity" she claimed I’d committed.
She dragged my secrets into the light, leaving me with no choice but to fight back with a knife in my hand and a 911 call on speaker.
But just as I thought I was free, the man I’d spent the night with—the man who was supposed to be my stranger—tore up our divorce papers and declared that I was his to keep.
I was a pawn in a game I didn't understand, trapped between a ruthless father who wanted to sell me for corporate secrets and a husband who demanded I belong to him in life and in death.
How did he not know who I was that night, and why is he suddenly claiming me as his own?
I’m done being a victim, and if he thinks he can own me, he’s about to find out exactly what happens when a cornered woman decides to burn it all down.
8.0
For six years, I played the perfect, submissive wife to Wall Street titan Francis Castro. I suffocated my own ambitions to fit into his conservative world.
But while I waited alone at a Michelin restaurant, a news alert popped up. My husband had just dropped millions on an aquamarine diamond necklace for his "muse," Chanelle.
The real nightmare began when I rushed home to find our five-year-old son in severe anaphylactic shock. I frantically called Francis from the ambulance, but he manually rejected my calls. He couldn't leave the bidding war for Chanelle's PR launch.
When he finally arrived at the ER, Chanelle was right beside him, wearing that blinding multi-million-dollar necklace. He didn't ask about our dying son.
"Why weren't you watching him?" he demanded, his voice hard and accusing.
And when my son woke up, hazy from the drugs, he rejected my touch and reached for Chanelle instead. Francis just stood there, praising Chanelle for knowing exactly how to calm him down.
I stared at the three of them looking like a perfect, happy family. Six years of swallowing my pride, only to realize my husband would let our son choke to death just to buy another woman's smile.
The last thread of my heart snapped. I handed him the divorce papers, demanding zero alimony. Then, I drove to a hidden Brooklyn loft, cut off my hair, and unlocked my safe.
It was time to resurrect my true identity—the legendary fashion designer, Ember.J. I am going to burn her empire to the ground.
8.4
Cyburris Hospital collapsed, and Director Greg sacrificed his pregnant wife, Ronda, to save his idolized love. Her right hand was crushed, she lost their baby, and he dragged her name through the mud, forcing her to leave with nothing.
With an injured hand and a stillborn child, Ronda fled the country overnight. Three years later, she returned as an international authority on neural regeneration, ready to seek revenge with both hands-one to slap faces, the other to perform surgery.
Her academic revelations exposed scandals, data breaches shook the foundations, the idolized love's reputation crumbled, and the scoundrel was left paralyzed-a complete crash and burn, all in one go.
In the end, she radiated with brilliance at a grand wedding with her ultimate partner, while her ex passed away in solitude in a hospital room.
7.2
I stared at the ceiling tiles of the sterile clinic, counting water stains to keep from screaming. The IVF transfer was complete, but the nurse didn’t call me a mother—she called the life inside me an "asset" for Caldwell Holdings.
When I walked into my husband Alexander’s office to demand a divorce, he didn't even look up from his desk. He just laughed, shredded my legal papers, and told me I was nothing more than a high-end broodmare for his inheritance.
The nightmare only deepened from there. To keep me in line, Alexander fabricated evidence of an affair to destroy my reputation. When I tried to run, he revealed he controlled the facility where my sister was on life support, threatening to pull the plug if I didn't submit.
"One phone call, and her ventilator stops," he whispered.
Even my own parents turned against me, demanding I apologize to Alexander’s mistress just to secure their next business merger. I was a prisoner in my own life, trapped between a husband who wanted to own me and a family that had already sold me. I couldn't understand why everyone was so obsessed with this pregnancy until I saw the fear in Alexander's eyes when his uncle, the powerful Harrison Sterling, started showing up at my door.
I finally hacked into the clinic’s high-security database and found the truth. There had been a catastrophic lab breach the day of my procedure. The donor wasn't some anonymous third party.
I wasn't carrying my husband's child. I was carrying his uncle's heir.
As Alexander sent a hitman to stage a fatal "accident" on the Manhattan Bridge, I realized the war had just begun. This time, I wasn't just fighting for my life—I was holding the nuclear leverage that would burn the Caldwell empire to the ground.
8.7
Clara Vane had everything-wealth, status, and the man she loved. But on the night meant to celebrate her future, everything was stolen. Betrayed by her best friend Sienna and pushed from a rooftop, Clara's life ended in a single, shocking moment.
Then she wakes up three years earlier, given a second chance. This time, she will not be a victim. Armed with the knowledge of the future, Clara watches, plans, and turns the greed and arrogance of her enemies against them. Each calculated move brings her closer to revenge and transforms the innocent girl she once was into a woman of power and precision.
Her path crosses with Alistair Thorne, the city's most feared CEO-a man whose cold, commanding presence makes her pulse race. Dangerous, brilliant, and impossibly alluring, he becomes both ally and challenge, drawing Clara deeper into a world of high stakes, wealth, and deception.
As betrayal lurks behind every door and danger waits in every shadow, Clara must outsmart those who once destroyed her. In a city built on power, money, and lies, she has one choice: rise, survive, and take everything back.
9.4
My Alpha mate abandoned me three years ago, leaving me as a disgraced Omega to raise our two children in a freezing, ruined hovel.
To keep them from starving, I was forced into a humiliating deal with a rogue wolf named Jax, who stole our pack rations and demanded my young son as payment.
The entire pack shunned me, my mother-in-law treated me like dirt, and my children lived in constant fear.
When I finally awakened my ancient Luna bloodline to fight off Jax and feed my kids, Ryker suddenly returned.
But he didn't come to save us. He blasted our door off its hinges, his eyes burning with a murderous rage.
He ignored our starving reality and accused me of selling our bloodline to the rogue.
"Where is the rogue? Who did you trade my bloodline to?!"
I had endured beatings, starvation, and utter humiliation just to keep his children breathing.
I had bled to protect our family. Yet, the moment he returned, he believed the lies of our tormentor and looked at me with the intent to kill.
Why was I the villain in the story of my own survival?
As his powerful inner wolf suddenly whined in submission for the magical food I had cooked, his Alpha command faltered into deep confusion.
He ordered me not to leave his sight until I explained everything.
But looking at the mate who had abandoned us, my mind was crystal clear.
The real question wasn't whether I would leave, but whether he was still worthy of letting me stay.