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The Billionaire's Asset: Carrying His Heir

Chapter 5 No.5

Word Count: 670    |    Released on: 30/01/2026

e like a museum than a home. She wasn't reading. She was searching. Her profession as an antique restorer had trained her

at the objects; she was analyzing Corbin's choices. A Roman bust with questionable provenance sat next to a flawl

a slight discoloration in the wood near the base of a leg. A masterful repair, almost invisible. But

the decor?" a

Corbin was standing there, watching her. He

posure. "It's a fake. A very good one, from the late

t entered his eyes. He walked over to the desk, r

at auction for seve

ear replaced by professional confidence. "The man who made this was a genius, but he used

ence stretching. He wasn'

l of surpris

appraised," she sa

t to touch her, but to block her path. "Just like I know about the appointment yo

t of her, replaced by ice

ation," she said

a copy of her medical file. Illegally obtained, no doubt. "A confirmation of

leaving her face. He took a step close

vibration that resonated in her chest. "Was a mist

d touch her. Instead, he picked up a heavy, leather-bound legal

he said. "And a custody contract. M

ument, then up at him, h

a more stable image. A wife and an heir would solve that problem. You need protection and fin

. He was executing

o a whisper. "That child is a Heat

d between the desk and the crushing

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The Billionaire's Asset: Carrying His Heir
The Billionaire's Asset: Carrying His Heir
“I stood in the marble bathroom of the Pierre Hotel, staring at the two pink lines that signaled the end of my life as I knew it. The dates didn't match my sterile, arranged engagement to a business heir; they matched a blizzard in Davos and a man whose name I had tried to scrub from my memory. I thought I'd hidden the test deep in the trash, but my stepsister Kendall was a viper who had been watching. Moments later, in the middle of a high-stakes gala, she stood on stage and projected a giant image of my positive pregnancy test onto a screen for all of New York's elite to see. The fallout was instantaneous and brutal. My fiancé, Preston, didn't ask for an explanation; he simply announced to the room that our merger was terminated because I was a "fraudulent asset." My stepfather, Senator Hansen, didn't offer a hand as I was swarmed by reporters; instead, he had security drag me out into a freezing rainstorm, hissing that I was a liability who had tanked his campaign. Barefoot and soaking wet on the sidewalk, I watched his black town car splash gutter water over me as I realized my bank cards were frozen and my apartment was already being sold from under me. I huddled in the rain, feeling the strange, protective heat in my abdomen, realizing my own family had orchestrated a public execution of my character. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me destitute and destroyed. "Who is the father?" the reporters screamed, their flashes blinding me as I collapsed on the wet concrete. I had been discarded like trash by the people who were supposed to love me, left with nothing but the secret growing inside me and a flash drive that could burn the city to the ground. But I had one nuclear option left. When a black Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb, I didn't beg for a ride. I held up the drive containing the evidence of Corbin Heath's illegal offshore accounts-the cold-blooded billionaire who was the true father of my child. "I want sanctuary, my father's freedom, and my assets unfrozen," I told him, shivering but resolute. Corbin looked at me with eyes like cold steel and offered a deal that felt more like a hostile takeover than a rescue. He would protect me, but only if I signed a contract that made me his wife and gave him total control over my life and his heir. I had escaped the wolves only to sell my soul to the devil, and as the car door clicked shut, I realized the war for my survival had only just begun.”