Pregnant Oracle: The CEO's Most Dangerous Mistake

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed twelve times. The house was silent, a heavy, breathing beast.

Anona walked barefoot down the corridor, her shoes in her hand. She knew where the cameras were. She stuck to the shadows, a ghost in her own prison.

Harrison's study door was ajar. A sliver of amber light spilled onto the carpet.

She pushed it open.

Harrison sat in a wingback leather chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He wasn't reading. He was waiting.

Sit, he said.

Anona placed a small USB drive on the desk. It's all there. Alexander moved fifty million over the last two years.

Harrison picked up the drive. He plugged it into his laptop. His eyes scanned the data streams, reflecting the scrolling numbers.

His eyebrows lifted. You compiled this? This isn't just accounting. This is forensic auditing.

I have my CPA, Mr. Sterling, Anona said, sitting on the edge of the chair. Before I was Alexander's wife, I was the best.

Harrison closed the laptop. Good. But it's not enough to bury him. We need to know where the money went.

Anona hesitated. She twisted her wedding ring.

I'm still tracing it. But... I think it's connected to the clinic.

Harrison's hand froze on his glass. Which clinic?

Sterling Fertility. Where we did the IVF.

Harrison stood up abruptly. The ice in his glass clinked.

What did he do at the clinic, Anona?

I don't know, she said, shrinking back slightly at his intensity. The records are encrypted. But he was obsessed with hiding something there.

Harrison turned away, running a hand through his hair. He knew exactly what Alexander was hiding. The mix-up. The baby.

Keep digging, Harrison commanded, turning back to her. Whatever you find, you bring to me first.

He was standing close now. Too close. Anona could smell the whiskey and the clean, sharp scent of his aftershave.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Heavy. Fast.

Harrison's eyes widened. He grabbed Anona's arm.

Hide.

Where?

He shoved her gently but firmly behind his massive mahogany desk. Down.

Anona crouched in the kneehole of the desk. It was tight. She pulled her knees to her chest. She risked a glance at his monitor before he sat. A file was open, titled 'Blanchard Contingency-Medical Asset Protection.' Her blood ran cold.

Harrison sat down in his chair and pulled it forward, his legs blocking her from view.

The door swung open.

Uncle? Alexander's voice. You're still up?

Anona held her breath. She was pressed against Harrison's legs. She could feel the heat radiating from him through the wool of his trousers.

I'm reviewing the European markets, Harrison said, his voice calm, bored. Do you need something?

Alexander stepped into the room. I thought I heard voices.

I'm on a call with Tokyo, Harrison lied smoothly. Do you want me to recap the meeting for you?

No, Alexander said. Christy said she saw Anona wandering around. I thought she might be bothering you.

Harrison scoffed. Your wife? She doesn't have the spine to knock on my door.

Anona bit her lip so hard she tasted copper. Harrison's calf muscle tensed against her side. It was an intimate, secret touch that made her skin burn.

Check the guest rooms, Harrison said. And close my door.

Alexander lingered for a second, then turned. The door clicked shut.

Harrison waited a beat, then rolled his chair back. He reached down and offered Anona his hand.

She took it. He pulled her up. She stumbled, her legs numb, and fell against his chest.

For a second, neither of them moved. His hands were on her waist, steadying her. Her palms were flat against his shirt.

Go, Harrison whispered, his voice rough.

Anona fled the room, her heart pounding louder than the storm outside.