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She Said the Baby Is Her Secretary's Novel Cover

She Said the Baby Is Her Secretary's

At their wedding, Tiffany Blake humiliates her long-time suitor by placing a ring on her secretary’s finger and claiming he is her baby's father. Refusing to be a backup, the protagonist accepts an arranged marriage with Nicole Cooper and cuts all ties. A year later, while attending a gala with his wife, he encounters Tiffany working at a regional office. She expects him to resume his old role and raise her child, unaware that his life and loyalties have completely shifted.
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Chapter 2

Chad hugged Tiffany even tighter. His eyes were full of a winner's pity and undisguised contempt.

"Come on, babe, don't be like that. Hey there, Ryan. Long time no see. Judging by how you look... this past year hasn't been too easy on you, has it?"

He deliberately softened his voice, but every word was a barb.

"Then again, let's be real—without Tiffany, what kind of life were you expecting to have?"

Mark immediately jumped in, covering his mouth as he let out an exaggerated laugh.

"Oh please, Chad, don't hold back. Ryan used to refuse to wear anything that wasn't a top designer. And now that outfit... yikes. What is that, a sidewalk sale special? Looks like without Tiffany, your standard of living took a nosedive!"

Tiffany's friends let out a low round of snickering. They looked at me like I was some outdated, pathetic piece of trash.

Back in the day, for just one "I like that" from Tiffany, I'd wait in line at midnight for some limited-edition item she'd casually mentioned. I'd starve myself for a month just to fit into the body type she wanted.

Now, this comfortable outfit—personally picked out by Nicole, hand-tailored in Italy—looked to them like proof I'd hit rock bottom.

My face was blank. All I felt was how ridiculous and laughable this whole scene was.

My stomach was vaguely unsettled. Maybe from the long flight. Or maybe from being triggered by that familiar kind of cruelty.

Nicole never let me sacrifice myself just to please anyone.

"Ryan."

Tiffany seemed pleased with the atmosphere. She stepped forward and spoke in a tone that sounded like she was granting me a favor.

"Since you're back, stop making a scene. My maternity leave is almost over. I need to rest and get my body back. I can't overdo it. You're not doing anything anyway. From now on, taking care of the kid is your job."

Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if this were some huge blessing she was bestowing on me.

Chad immediately put his hand on Tiffany's flat stomach—the same stomach that had once carried the child who made me the laughingstock of the whole city.

He spoke with that fake, syrupy sweet tone. "Yeah, Ryan, don't you worry. My son's a good kid.

"It's just that he might cry a few times at night. You'll need to be patient and soothe him. The formula has to be made with lukewarm water. The diapers need to be changed often, or he'll get a rash. Anyway, we'll leave all that little stuff to you."

He paused, as if something just occurred to him, and added, "Oh, right. The room we set aside for the nanny isn't huge, but it faces south. It gets good lighting."

"Pfft..."

Lily Jenner, who had been watching the show from the sidelines, finally burst out laughing.

"Tiffany, Chad, you guys are way too nice. You're even giving him a room? Ryan, go on, thank them for taking you in. It's better than sleeping on the streets, right?"

Mark jumped back in with a grin.

"Yeah, seriously, Ryan. Getting to be the nanny for Tiffany and Chad's kid? Tons of people would kill for that. It's a blessing!"

I just stood there quietly watching their performance. The very last ripple of anything from the past went completely still inside me. All that was left was a cold, tired disgust.

Tiffany was still lost in her delusion that "Ryan can't live without me."

Chad was soaking up the thrill of having me under his heel, savoring his victory.

I didn't want to waste another second on this pathetic circus. I raised my hand and pointed at the sign Tiffany was holding. My voice was calm and flat.

"I'm Kent. You're here to pick me up, aren't you? Let's go."