The billionaire's secret baby

AVA

"I'm sorry, Miss Parker, but we can't approve your application without the father's information."

The social worker's voice was cold, mechanical. She shuffled through my paperwork like I was just another number, another problem to dismiss. My two-month-old son squirmed in my arms, hungry and fussy.

"I told you, I don't have his information," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I don't even know his name."

She looked at me over her wire-rimmed glasses, her expression screaming judgment. "Well, then you'll need to provide proof that you've attempted to locate him. Child support enforcement, paternity tests, something."

"How can I find someone when I don't know who they are?"

"That's not my problem." She stamped "DENIED" across my Medicaid application in red ink. "Next."

I walked out of the welfare office with nothing but rejection and shame. Eli was crying now, that desperate hungry cry that broke my heart. I had enough formula for maybe two more days, and my rent was due yesterday.

The diner where I worked was a greasy spoon called "Mel's Place." The owner, Mel, was a heavy-set man in his fifties who thought his wandering hands came with the territory of being the boss.

"You're late again, Ava," he said when I rushed in, still trying to catch my breath from running six blocks.

"I'm sorry, Mel. I had to drop Eli off at daycare and the bus was.."

"I don't want to hear your excuses." His eyes traveled down my body in a way that made my skin crawl. "You know, I've been thinking about your situation. Single mom, no money, no support. I could help you out."

I knew where this was going. "What do you mean?"

He stepped closer, too close. "Come by my office after your shift. We'll discuss your... performance review."

"Mel, I.."

"Unless you'd rather find another job." His smile was cold. "Though I doubt anyone else would hire a girl with your... baggage."

I swallowed my disgust and nodded. I needed this job. Eli needed me to have this job.

The next eight hours were torture. I served greasy burgers and watery coffee to truckers and night shift workers, all while Mel watched me from behind the counter. Every time I passed him, he found an excuse to touch me, a hand on my back, fingers brushing mine when he handed me an order.

"You look tired, sweetheart," he whispered during the dinner rush. "Maybe you should take better care of yourself. For your son's sake."

I wanted to slap him. Instead, I smiled and kept working.

When I got home that night, Eli was burning up with fever. Mrs. Chen, the elderly woman who watched him during my shifts, met me at the door with worry in her eyes.

"He's been crying all day," she said. "Won't eat, won't sleep. I think he's sick."

I took him in my arms, feeling the heat radiating from his tiny body. "How high is his fever?"

"102. I wanted to take him to the hospital, but..." She trailed off, both of us knowing I couldn't afford it.

I spent the night walking the floor with Eli, trying to cool him down with damp clothes and infant Tylenol I bought with my last five dollars. By morning, his fever had broken, but I knew we were lucky. Next time, we might not be.

"You can't keep living like this," Becca said when she stopped by later that morning. She was my only friend, a girl I'd met at the shelter who'd managed to get back on her feet. "You're killing yourself."

"I don't have a choice," I said, bouncing Eli on my hip. "This is my life now."

"No, it doesn't have to be." She pulled out her phone and showed me a job posting. "Look at this. Executive assistant position at Blackwood Enterprises. It pays more in a month than you make in three."

I stared at the screen. "Becca, I don't have the qualifications for something like this."

"You're smart, you're organized, and you're desperate. That's more qualification than half the people they'll interview." She grabbed my hands. "Ava, this could change everything for you and Eli. You could afford a real apartment, health insurance, and a future."

"They'd never hire me. Look at me." I gestured to my second hand clothes and tired face. "I don't belong in a place like that."

"You belong wherever you decide to belong." Her voice was firm. "Promise me you'll try. For Eli."

I looked down at my son, sleeping peacefully in my arms. He deserved so much more than what I could give him. He deserved a mother who could provide for him, who could take him to the doctor when he was sick, who could give him a real home.

"Okay," I whispered. "I'll try."

::::

The next day, I spent what little money I had on a cheap blazer from a thrift store and printed my resume at the library. It was embarrassingly thin, high school diploma, a few months of various jobs, no college. But I typed it carefully, made it look as professional as possible.

Blackwood Enterprises was housed in a gleaming skyscraper downtown. I stood on the sidewalk, craning my neck to see the top, feeling like an ant about to enter a world of giants.

The lobby was all marble and glass, with expensive artwork on the walls and security guards who looked like they belonged in movies. I approached the reception desk, my hands shaking.

"I'm here for the executive assistant interview," I told the perfectly polished receptionist.

She looked me up and down, clearly finding me lacking. "Name?"

"Ava Parker."

She typed something into her computer. "Take the elevator to the fortieth floor. Someone will meet you there."

The elevator ride felt like it lasted forever. I checked my reflection in the polished steel doors, trying to smooth my hair and straighten my blazer. I had to make a good impression. Eli was counting on me.

The fortieth floor was even more intimidating than the lobby. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the entire city, and everything was decorated in shades of black and silver. A woman in an expensive suit led me down a hallway lined with abstract art.

"Mr. Blackwood will see you now," she said, stopping in front of a pair of imposing double doors.

My heart was pounding as she opened them. I stepped into the office, my eyes taking in the massive space, the wall of windows, the desk that probably cost more than I'd made in my entire life.

And then I saw him.

The man behind the desk looked up from his paperwork, and the world stopped spinning. Storm-gray eyes met mine, and I felt like I was falling through space and time.

It was him. The stranger from that night two years ago. The father of my child.

Liam Blackwood…