Carrying The Alpha's Child

His fingers drummed absentmindedly on the oak desk, eyes glancing across the latest financial report. But he wasn't reading. His mind, despite the constant hum of activity around him, wasn't in the office today.

Lucas Stone, CEO and founder of the top leading construction company

Outside the double doors, the faint murmur of his assistant's voice answering phones and directing business calls went unnoticed. A multi-million dollar deal was on the table, one that could expand his empire into uncharted territory. Normally, this would have been enough to consume his attention. After all, the thrill of the chase, the high stakes-those were the things that had driven Lucas Stone to the top of the business world.

But today, even the potential of adding another feather to his cap couldn't shake the nagging feeling that grows at the back of his mind.

His gaze shifted to the sleek, silver-framed photo on the corner of his desk. The image was perfect-he and Ava standing together, smiling for the cameras at a charity gala last spring.

They looked like the ideal couple: he, the powerful, handsome alpha, and she, the stunning omega model with a body people would kill for. The world saw them as the pinnacle of success, but what the world didn't see was how fragile the glass had become. Every perfect photo they took together, every event they attended, only seemed to widen the cracks.

The phone on his desk buzzed, jolting him from his thoughts. He sighed, glancing at the name flashing on the screen.

Ava.

His thumb hovered over the accept button for a moment longer than it should have. He knew what this call was about, and the sense of duty that used to come with answering her calls had slowly been replaced with something else-dread, perhaps, or worse, lack of interest.

He pressed the button and lifted the phone to his ear. "Ava," he greeted her, his voice steady, though lacking the warmth it once held.

"Lucas, don't tell me you forgot about tonight." Her tone was light, almost teasing, but there was an edge beneath it that he couldn't ignore.

Ava had always been good at keeping her emotions hidden beneath layers of charm. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. But now, after four years of marriage, he has grown to recognize the subtle shifts in her voice, the moments when her perfect exterior cracks just enough to reveal what lay beneath.

"I didn't forget," Lucas replied. The truth was, he had barely thought about it. The function Ava was talking about is a gala for some fashion industry event. Just another in a long line of public appearances.

Another night where they would stand side by side, posing for the cameras, presenting the perfect image to the world.

"That's good," she said, her voice softening. "I've already picked out the most incredible dress. I swear, it's going to make headlines. Everyone will be talking about us tomorrow."

Us. Lucas almost laughed at the thought. When was the last time there had been an 'us' that wasn't just for show? He leaned back in his chair, letting the silence stretch between them for a moment.

"Right," he murmured. "What time do we need to be there?"

"Eight o'clock. But you know how these things go. Fashionably late is always better." There was a lightness to her voice, but Lucas could sense that her mind was already somewhere else, likely on the event itself, her public image, and how flawless she would look in that dress.

"Okay," Lucas agreed, though his tone was neutral. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep doing this-playing the role of the devoted husband at these endless social functions while their marriage crumbled behind closed doors.

"Lucas, you're still going to wear the suit we picked out last week, right? You know, the charcoal one. It looks great on you," she added, as if their matching appearances were the most important thing about the night.

"Yeah. I'll wear the suit," Lucas said, though it felt like a promise he was making to a stranger.

Ava paused for a moment, sensing his detachment. "I know these things aren't your favorite, but it's important," she continued, her voice softening. "The press loves us together. We need to stay relevant, especially with everything going on in my career right now. You understand, don't you?"

Lucas's jaw tightened. Her career. It was always about her career.

"Yeah, I understand," he replied, though he wasn't sure if he meant it anymore.

"Okay, I'll see you at home later," Ava chirped, and without waiting for a response, she ended the call.

Lucas let out a slow breath and placed the phone back on his desk, staring at the screen as if expecting it to ring again. But the room remained quiet, save for the low hum of the city outside the window.

He glanced back at the framed photo on his desk, his fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the glass. They looked so happy. So perfect. But pictures had a way of hiding the truth, didn't they?

Four years. That was how long they had been married, and how long it had taken for things to start falling apart. At first, it had been subtle-the missed dinners, the canceled plans, the way Ava's attention slowly shifted from him to her career.

He hadn't minded at first. He was proud of her success, proud to stand by her side as her career skyrocketed. But as time passed, it became clear that her career wasn't just a part of her life, it was her entire life.

He pushed the photo aside and stared at the stack of contracts on his desk. His company was thriving, his empire growing larger by the day. But what was the point of it all if he couldn't share it with the person he loves?

Lucas has always wanted a family. Growing up as an only child, he had dreamed of having a big family of his own-children running through the halls of their home, laughter filling every room. But Ava... Ava wasn't ready. She had made that abundantly clear.

She was still enjoying her career, still basking in the glow of her success. And Lucas, in his role as her supportive husband, had swallowed his own desires, telling himself that he could wait. But how much longer could he wait? How much longer could he stand by while his dreams slipped further out of reach?