
ONE WILD NIGHT
She's lying," he tells the cameras. But the truth in his eyes says otherwise.
Struggling on scholarship and multiple jobs to support her family, she never expected one night to change everything. But when a pregnancy test confirms her worst fears, the father, a billionaire's heir, publicly denies her claims to protect his own future.
Now she's fighting a battle on two fronts: keeping her scholarship while raising a child alone, and facing down one of the most powerful families in the country.
In a world where money talks and reputations can be bought, she has only one weapon, the truth.
But when lies have billion dollar consequences, will the truth be enough to survive?
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Chapter 3
Three weeks after the Grandview Hotel, I learned that expensive sheets leave invisible marks.
Not on my skin, but I could still feel Alex's hands like fire in my memory. Everything else felt different. My thin dorm blanket seemed rough. The bright cafeteria lights felt too sharp. Even my scholarship felt shaky, like it could vanish if I made one mistake.
Life went on the same,classes, tutoring, long hours at the restaurant. But it all felt empty, like I was only acting as Maya Collins. The real me was still on that hotel balcony, wearing a stranger's jacket, believing for one short night that I truly mattered.
Alex Stone . I had searched his name once before forcing myself to stop. Heir to a fortune. Engaged. Out of reach. The papers called him New York's most eligible bachelor. It made me laugh bitterly eligible for everyone except poor scholarship girls.
"You're vibrating," Zoe said, watching me stack my textbooks in order again and again. "Like, literally shaking. When's the last time you actually slept?"
"I sleep."
"Falling asleep because you're too tired doesn't count," she said, giving me that serious look she always does. "And you've been eating only plain crackers for a week. That's not real food."
My stomach turned at the word "food." Lately, everything made me feel sick,the cafeteria smell, Zoe's vanilla perfume, even the coffee I usually lived on.
"Maya." Zoe's tone changed. "Look at me."
I forced myself to meet her eyes.
"When was your last period?"
The question hit like a punch. My mouth opened, but no words came. When was it? Before the party, yes. But when exactly?
I grabbed my phone, scrolling through my calendar in panic. I tracked everything,deadlines, shifts, Mom's appointments. But my period tracker had a gap.
"Maya?" Zoe asked softly.
"I... I don't know." The words felt wrong in my mouth. I always knew. I planned around it. I couldn't afford surprises.
Zoe stayed quiet, then asked carefully, "That night at the hotel. Did you use protection?"
Heat rose to my face. "Well...it happened so fast. And then..." I remembered Alex struggling with his wallet, his hands unsteady, both of us desperate. "Maybe? I think so? God, I don't remember."
That was the worst part. I remembered his laugh, the way he listened, how he made me feel beautiful instead of a burden. But the most important detail was lost in the blur of wine and desire.
"Okay." Zoe grabbed her purse. "We're going to the pharmacy."
"Zoe, I can't afford"
"My treat. Consider it an investment in my sanity."
The pregnancy test aisle felt like it was judging me. The boxes promised answers in two minutes. I took the digital one that spelled out words instead of lines. Even with my perfect GPA, I didn't trust myself to read lines correctly.
Back in the dorm bathroom, I stared at the stick like it could explode.
"Want me to stay?" Zoe asked.
"No. I need to do this alone."
The two minutes dragged like hours. I sat on the floor, back against the door, thinking about the impossible. A baby. Alex's baby. Our baby growing inside me while he planned a wedding with someone else.
My phone buzzed,a reminder about tomorrow's economics exam, worth thirty percent of my grade. My scholarship suddenly felt as fragile as glass.
The timer beeped.
I looked.
PREGNANT.
The word glowed on the screen, clear and final. No guessing, no doubts. Just truth.
My knees hit the floor. The bathroom tiles were freezing, but all I felt was the earthquake inside me.
A baby. Twenty-two years old, broke, exhausted, and about to raise a child alone. The father was engaged to another woman. My mother was dying. My brother needed me. My scholarship was at risk.
And yet... underneath the fear, something else stirred. A fierce, protective feeling. My hand pressed to my stomach.
"Hey there, little one," I whispered.
Tears poured out. I cried for the future I'd lost, for the dreams I'd built, for the innocence I'd left in silk sheets and champagne. But most of all, I cried for the life inside me.one that would never know its father, that would grow up the way I had: poor, uncertain, but loved.
"Maya?" Zoe's voice came through the door. "Whatever it says, we'll figure it out."
I wiped my face and opened the door. Zoe looked at me once, then sat heavily on her bed.
"Oh, honey."
"I'm pregnant." Saying it out loud made it real. "I'm pregnant with Alexander Stone's baby."
Zoe's eyes widened. "Jesus. Okay... we'll handle this. There are options""
"No." The word came sharp. "I mean... I need to think. But no. Not that."
Zoe nodded slowly. "Then we'll find a way."
"How?" I laughed, a broken sound. "How do I tell my dying mother she'll be a grandmother? How do I finish school with a baby? How do I work enough hours to support three people when I can't even keep up with two?"
"I don't know. But you're the smartest person I know. You'll find a way."
"And if I can't?"
"Then you'll find another way."
Over the next two weeks, something remarkable happened. The same determination that had carried me through Dad's death and Mom's illness kicked into overdrive. I stopped seeing problems and started seeing puzzles to solve.
I researched everything,emergency financial aid for students with dependents, work-study programs that allowed flexible schedules, even apartment listings near campus that might be cheaper than dorm fees. I created spreadsheets, timelines, backup plans for my backup plans.
By day fourteen, I had a strategy. Defer graduation one semester, work maximum hours until I started showing, apply for every grant available to single mothers. I'd done impossible things before. This was just another mountain to climb.
"You're terrifying when you're determined," Zoe said, watching me organize prenatal vitamins alongside my regular supplements. "But also kind of inspiring."
I felt different. Stronger. Like discovering I was carrying Alex's child had awakened something primal in me,a fierceness I'd never known I possessed. I didn't need his money or his name or his acknowledgment. I had something more powerful: absolute certainty that I would protect this life no matter what it cost me.
I didn't look him up again. What was the point? I'd memorized every detail from that first devastating search-the engagement photos, the society pages, the wedding announcements. Alexander Stone belonged to a world I'd never be part of.
But I didn't need him. The realization hit me like lightning, sharp and clarifying. I'd been handling impossible things my entire adult life. This was just one more challenge to overcome.
My hand went to my stomach again. So small, and yet everything was already different.
"What are we going to do?" I whispered to the darkness.
The answer came not in words, but in the same quiet determination that had carried me through Dad's death, Mom's diagnosis, and three years of impossible choices. I would handle this the way I handled everything else alone, carefully, and without asking for help I'd never receive.
Alex Stone could keep his perfect life, his billion-dollar empire, his society wedding. I didn't need his money or his name. I'd raised Jake, supported Mom, and earned my scholarship without a safety net. I could do this too.
Over the next two weeks, something remarkable happened. The same determination that had carried me through Dad's death and Mom's illness kicked into overdrive. I stopped seeing problems and started seeing puzzles to solve.
I researched everything emergency financial aid for students with dependents, work-study programs that allowed flexible schedules, even apartment listings near campus that might be cheaper than dorm fees. I created spreadsheets, timelines, backup plans for my backup plans.
By the fourteenth day, I had a plan. Delay graduation for one semester, work as many hours as possible before my pregnancy started to show, and apply for every grant for single mothers. I had faced hard things before. This was just another challenge to overcome.
"You're terrifying when you're determined," Zoe said, watching me organize prenatal vitamins alongside my regular supplements. "But also kind of inspiring."
I felt different. Stronger. Finding out I was carrying Alex's child woke up something deep inside me a strength I never knew I had. I didn't need his money, his name, or even for him to notice me. What I had was stronger: the clear promise that I would protect this baby no matter what it took.
I didn't look him up again. What was the point? I'd memorized every detail from that first devastating search,the engagement photos, the society pages, the wedding announcements. Alexander Stone belonged to a world I'd never be part of.
But I didn't need him. The realization hit me like lightning, sharp and clarifying. I'd been handling impossible things my entire adult life. This was just one more challenge to overcome.
Outside my window, the city hummed with midnight traffic and glowing signs. Somewhere among those lights, Alexander Stone slept peacefully in his penthouse, completely unaware that his world had already changed forever.
He just didn't know it yet.
And maybe, if I was careful enough, smart enough, strong enough... he never would.
But some secrets, no matter how carefully guarded, have a way of refusing to stay buried.
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7.4
Forced into an unwanted marriage, quiet schoolteacher Delina Brooks is bound to Andrew Kingsley.He is a ruthless billionaire musician, cold and arrogant, and he hates Delina from the moment they wed.
But Andrew's world is not just his own. His glamorous ex-girlfriend, Camilla Laurent, and his manipulative sister, Veronica, are determined to destroy Delina-and reclaim Andrew for themselves. Surrounded by lies, secrets, and relentless enemies, Delina must fight for her dignity, her family, and her future.
As fate twists and turns, one question remains: Will the woman he despised become the only one he can't live without?

9.6
Areli was the hardest-working medic in the Blackridge Clan, but her efforts only earned her the title of a useless burden.
Her supposed lover, Eugene, and her senior mentor, Gloria, lured her to the edge of the deadly Blackwind Cliff and shoved her straight into the abyss.
She miraculously survived the freefall, only to return and find Gloria standing before the entire clan, wearing a mask of fake sorrow.
"Look! The traitor is back! She eloped with wild males!" Gloria shrieked.
Eugene stepped up, looking heartbroken, and publicly accused her of betraying his love.
The crowd erupted, raining hisses and boos upon her, completely ignoring the horrific, life-threatening bruises that covered her battered body.
They blindly believed the lies, treating her like garbage while Gloria secretly plotted to poison her water and destroy her completely.
Areli felt a chilling sense of betrayal. How could the man who claimed to love her watch her fall with such cold eyes?
To make matters worse, her modern biochemist instincts revealed a terrifying truth: she was unexpectedly pregnant with the child of a savage Warlord she had encountered in the wild.
In this brutal, primitive world, showing any weakness was an absolute death sentence.
But she wasn't going to cower or run away.
Refusing the Warlord's offer to simply rescue her, Areli calmly placed a highly toxic herb on her drying rack and left her tent flap open.
The bait was set. Now, she just had to wait for the screams.

7.7
The Cameron family clinic smelled like lemon polish and impending death. For three years, I'd been a vessel in a cold, forced marriage to Underboss Kade Cameron. But today, the doctor's words would shatter everything.
"No heartbeat," Dr. Finch declared, then, "Stage IV gastric cancer. Terminal." A double death sentence. As the world tilted, a news alert flashed: Kade, my husband, parading his mistress, Carla Shaw, across Europe-"a love that defies family lines."
Dying and carrying his dead child, I overheard nurses gossip Kade wanted me gone for his "true love." I chose to feel the D&C agony, cleansing him from my soul. Stumbling out, Kade accused me of killing his child, then rushed Carla, feigning illness, to OB/GYN, ignoring my bleeding and dying state.
Back at the mansion, I vomited blood, my body failing. Kade watched with disgust, dismissing my terminal diagnosis as a "performance." He called me "collateral," a "debt payment," then left me for his mistress. The last shred of loyalty shattered, replaced by chilling clarity.
I signed the divorce papers he dismissed as a "tantrum," leaving his ring. No longer a Cameron, no longer his possession. With Fluffy, I made one call, choosing to die on my own terms, finally free.

7.0
Five years after my ex, Clay, traded me for power, we met again at an exclusive summit. He and his new fiancée, Destany, publicly humiliated me, calling me a trespasser and a thief for looking for my son's lost locket.
Then, my three-year-old son, Justus, ran to me, crying "Mama!"
In a horrifying move, Destany snatched him from my arms.
She shrieked to the powerful crowd that I was a low-born commoner who had kidnapped a child of noble blood. The room erupted, calling for my arrest.
Clay, the man I once loved, watched with cold satisfaction as guards pinned my arms back. He ordered them to take my son away and deal with me. I screamed that Justus was mine, but my pleas were drowned out by their accusations.
How could this be happening? The man who once promised me everything was now helping to rip my child away from me, branding me a criminal.
But just as they were about to drag me away, an immense power slammed into the room, forcing everyone to their knees. A tall, imposing figure appeared, his golden eyes blazing with fury. My husband, Damien, had arrived.

7.3
Seven years ago, my fiancé, Don Dante Moretti, sent me to prison to take the fall for my adopted sister, Chiara. He called it a gift-a way to protect me from a worse fate.
Today, he picked me up from prison only to abandon me at my family's estate. His reason? Chiara was having another one of her "episodes."
My parents then informed me I'd be staying in the third-floor storage room, so as not to disturb the fragile girl who stole my life.
They celebrated her "recovery" with a lavish dinner party, while I was treated like a ghost. When I refused to join, my mother hissed that I was ungrateful, and my father called me jealous.
They assumed I couldn't understand their venomous whispers. But prison was my university. I learned Spanish. I understood every word.
It was then I realized I wasn't just a sacrifice; I was disposable. The love I once felt for all of them had turned to ash.
That night, in the dusty storage room, I logged onto an encrypted channel I'd set up years ago. A single message was waiting: "The offer stands. Do you accept?" My hands, scarred and steady, typed back, "I accept."

7.6
I was kneeling on the cold concrete of an abandoned warehouse, staring at a ticking timer while a masked man held a knife to my throat. My fiancé's nephew, Preston, finally burst through the door, but he wasn't alone. He was clutching my stepsister, Felicia, both of them looking frantic.
The kidnapper gave Preston a brutal choice: the bomb was rigged to the door, and he could only take one woman with him. The other would stay behind to burn.
Without a single second of hesitation, Preston grabbed Felicia's hand and turned his back on me.
"I'm sorry, Annelise," he said, his voice flat and devoid of any real regret.
He slammed the heavy iron door shut, leaving me to scream in the darkness as the flames began to roar. He didn't just leave me to die; he did it to protect his inheritance, treating me like a piece of trash that was finally being cleared from his path.
Later, in the hospital, he didn't even offer an apology. Instead, he raised his hand to strike me, threatening to finish what the fire started if I dared to speak a word about his cowardice. His stepsister laughed, trying to pour scalding coffee on my face while calling me a pathetic loser who should have stayed in the warehouse.
I sat there, cowering and shaking like a broken girl, letting them believe they had won. I watched their cruelty with wide, watery eyes, wondering how they could be so blind to the monster they were provoking.
What Preston didn't know was that the entire kidnapping was a performance I had choreographed myself, and every second of his betrayal was recorded in 4K.
Now, I've successfully moved into the manor of the real king-his uncle, Francesco Lancaster. He thinks he's rescued a wounded bird, but he's actually invited a world-class predator into his home. The game is no longer about survival; it's about total destruction.