Pregnant With The Ruthless CEO's Heir

The Maybach's tires shrieked against the asphalt. The driver slammed on the brakes, the massive grille of the car stopping mere inches from Cora's kneecaps. The blinding halogen headlights washed over her pale, frozen face.

She didn't flinch. Her legs were shaking so violently she could barely stand, but she kept her chin raised.

The rear passenger window slid down with a quiet hum.

Jace Bauer's face emerged from the shadows of the backseat. His eyes were lethal. He didn't look surprised; he looked deeply, dangerously annoyed.

"Do you have a death wish?" he asked. His voice was quiet, cutting through the wind like a razor blade.

Cora walked around the hood of the car. She grabbed the edge of the open window, her knuckles white, her fingers completely numb.

"Give me five minutes, Mr. Bauer," she said. Her voice was hoarse, her throat raw from the cold.

Jace's lip curled into a sneer. He didn't even look at her. He looked at the back of his driver's head. "Put it in reverse. Run her over if she doesn't move."

The driver hesitated for a fraction of a second, his hand hovering over the gearshift.

In that split second, Cora reached down and yanked the heavy door handle. The driver had forgotten to lock the doors in the chaos. The heavy armored door swung open.

Cora threw half her body into the warm, leather-scented interior of the car. She looked Jace dead in the eye. "I have a proposition regarding Axel Malone."

The air in the car vanished.

At the sound of his brother's name, the bored arrogance on Jace's face evaporated. Pure, unadulterated violence took its place.

His hand shot out. His large fingers wrapped around Cora's throat, pinning her back against the door frame. The impact knocked the wind out of her. His grip was iron. He was cutting off her air supply.

Cora's face flushed red. Her lungs burned. But she didn't claw at his hand. She didn't struggle. She stared back at him, her eyes wide and defiant, and forced the corners of her mouth to twitch upward into a mocking smile.

Jace stared at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He held her there for three agonizing seconds, watching the life drain from her face. Then, with a look of utter disgust, he released her, throwing her backward.

Cora stumbled, gasping loudly for air, rubbing her bruised neck.

Jace pulled a sterilized wipe from a dispenser in the armrest and meticulously wiped his hand. "Open the door," he snapped at the driver.

He stepped out of the car, ignoring Cora completely, and walked toward the unmarked steel door of the club. He punched a code into the keypad and pushed the door open.

Cora didn't wait for an invitation. She scrambled after him, slipping through the door just before it clicked shut.

She followed him down a short, dimly lit hallway and into a private, soundproofed cigar room. The room was empty, smelling of rich tobacco and old money. Heavy leather armchairs sat in the corners.

Jace walked straight to the mahogany bar. He poured two fingers of neat whiskey into a crystal glass. He leaned against the bar, swirling the amber liquid, and finally looked at her.

He checked the heavy platinum watch on his wrist. "Your five minutes started thirty seconds ago, spy."

Cora's heart skipped a beat. Spy. So that was it. That was why he had ignored her at the gala. He thought she was working for Axel.

She didn't correct him. Let him think she was a mercenary. It was safer that way.

She took two steps forward, stopping in the center of the Persian rug. She squared her shoulders.

"I want you to marry me," Cora said. Her voice didn't shake.

The silence in the room was absolute. It felt heavy enough to crush bone.

Jace stopped swirling his drink. He stared at her for a long moment. Then, he threw his head back and laughed. It was a dark, cruel sound that held absolutely no humor.

He downed the whiskey in one swallow and slammed the heavy crystal glass down on the marble bar. The glass cracked.

He closed the distance between them in two long strides. His height and sheer physical presence forced Cora to tilt her head back to look at him.

"I don't marry strangers," Jace said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "And I certainly don't marry my bastard brother's used trash."

The words were a physical blow. Cora felt the blood drain from her face. Her stomach twisted into a painful knot.

"You think you're smart?" Jace sneered, his eyes dropping to her lips and then back to her eyes with pure revulsion. "Axel sends you to spread your legs, get some blackmail material, and you think you can use it to extort a ring out of me? Your acting is pathetic."

Cora dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. The physical pain kept her grounded. She forced herself to smile. She made it look greedy.

"Axel didn't pay me enough," Cora lied smoothly, leaning into the persona he had created for her. "He offered me an apartment. I want an empire. I'm a gold digger, Mr. Bauer. And you have the most gold."

Jace's eyes darkened with absolute loathing. He pointed a long finger toward the heavy wooden door. "Get out."

Cora didn't move. She slowly reached into her cheap clutch purse. She unzipped the inner pocket.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be so quick to kick out the mother of your heir," she said. Her voice was as calm as a placid lake.

Jace's pupils dilated. His hand dropped to his side.

Cora pulled out a folded piece of paper. It bore the official stamp of Mount Sinai Hospital. She stepped forward and slapped the paper flat onto the marble bar, right next to his cracked whiskey glass.