Pregnant for the alpha

MILLIE-ROSE'S POV

There was a knot in my stomach. A gnawing, ominous anxiety. The more I scrolled through the comments, the tighter it pulled. I was almost gasping in the confinement of my car, the tinted windows doing nothing to stop the feeling of claustrophobia creeping up my spine.

"Wow, congratulations to her."

"She's a pretty actress. I've been a fan of hers since she was little. It's so great seeing her getting married."

"But isn't she too young? Congratulations anyway."

I kept scrolling, searching for the comment that had triggered this unease but nothing stood out. They were all the usual suspects. Well-wishers. Haters. Keyboard warriors dissecting every inch of my public life like they paid rent in it.

With a frustrated sigh, I locked my phone and dropped it into my purse like it had personally offended me. I leaned back in the leather seat and took a deep breath. Maybe that would help. It didn't. The knot stayed, unmoved and unbothered.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Was this... wedding jitters? Was it normal to feel this twisted up inside the day before your wedding?

I wouldn't know. I've never been married before. I never had a mother to guide me through moments like these. She died when I was five. Her absence was a void I had long stopped trying to fill.

My stepmother? Yeah, asking her about "wedding nerves" would earn me an eye-roll and probably an insult or three. We weren't exactly swapping mother-daughter advice.

So how was I supposed to know if this feeling was normal?

"We're here, Ma'am," the driver said as the car rolled to a stop.

"Oh," I murmured, glancing out the tinted window. The towering glass structure of my modeling agency loomed ahead, crisp and intimidating under the mid-morning sun.

Callie had sent my schedule already, two photoshoots: Vogue and Elle, a lunch meeting with the directors of my upcoming movie role, and a bachelorette party later tonight.

And tomorrow?

I was supposed to become one with Silas Butt.

Everything should feel... perfect. But my chest was tight. My palms, clammy. I was nauseous. A gnawing anxiety that clung to me like perfume I didn't remember spraying.

Was it my dress? An allergic reaction? What do I even blame this on?

"Ma'am?" The driver gently called again, likely noticing how zoned out I was.

"Yes, thank you," I replied, shaking off the fog in my head as I grabbed my purse and stepped out.

I put on the most collected expression I could muster, smoothing out invisible creases on my blouse. Showbiz rule 101: keep it cute even when you're dying inside.

"Good morning, Ma'am. Congratulations on your wedding tomorrow!" one of the security guards greeted me with a wide grin.

"Thank you. Good morning," I replied, smiling politely as I passed through the lobby.

It wasn't just the guards, nearly everyone in the building offered a wave, a smile, a compliment about my wedding. I responded to each of them like clockwork, but I only truly breathed when I stepped into the solitude of the elevator. There, I finally let myself close my eyes and pull in deeper, longer breaths.

The elevator dinged, and I stepped out, heading toward my changing room. But something tugged at my attention...Mr. Dan's office was just a few steps away. I figured I'd say a quick hello before getting ready.

Except as I approached, voices filtered through the half-closed door. The words made me slow to a stop.

"Oh, she's so pathetic. I mean, she's got all this glam and yet zero brain," came a giggle. That was Roe. One of the other models. One of the loudest ones.

"I know, right?" Daisy chimed in. "Like why would she get married now? She's going to tank her whole career. Just watch. She's too dumb to see it."

My gut twisted tighter.

Ah. Another roast session. These girls never missed an opportunity to gather like mean witches and rip me apart for sport. I'd known about their little gossip circles for years. And yet, I never confronted them. Why give them the satisfaction?

But then I heard another voice... one that sent a chill down my spine.

"All that beauty gone to waste," Mr. Dan scoffed.

What? Mr Dan?

Since when did he become part of the clique?