Mr. Rhodes, Your Dead Fiancée Is Pregnant

Chapter 5

Word Count: 940 | Released on: Today at 16:35

rrived o

crying, "Ms. Quinn!", Lucian looked up f

lettos. Her straight dark hair had been curled into cool chestnut waves, and dark sungla

t the housekeeper with flat, unblinking eye

e table. Her makeup was sharp, her mouth painted a deep, cold red.

ng with the raw ache of the last six days.

down," she said. She pulled an envelope from her bag an

ook at the enve

Rhodes." Stella reached into her ba

ht. "Stella. I looked into the

she cut in, holding out

ungs. He stared at her

said, her tone conversational. "You're an educated

and sharpened against the white page:

ners as he looked up at her. "You lied about your name, your hometown

ed the paper back to slap it against his chest.

raight into his eyes. "He was a considerate baby

want him!" Lucian roa

h for her, footsteps sounded in the

r, and the ice on her face thawed into

ng two heavy aluminum cases. He smiled warmly at her. "Sorry.

ocked. "Who th

ere with Nine. To return some things, and to thank Mr.

le and popped the latches. Inside, stacked in neat bri

at's my half of our expenses, plus the depreciated value of every gift

a step closer. His hand trembled around her bones, ter

s grip, then up into his bloodshot eyes.

ed. His finge

d back, and slipped her arm through

n's ears. "Stop lying to m

his voice calm and firm. "Mr. Rhodes, I'm h

ward him, murder in his eyes, be

ed to go public. You said there was no need. At dinner, I asked to go to City Hall.

he floor, then slowly bent his knees

him. "I lied about everything for three years-my background,

tear spilled over his lower lash, c

"You never knew what I gave up to be here. That's fine. Keep your Celeste. But you

the paper crumpling in h

lla said. "We're done, Lucia

urned her back, and walk

stood alone in the living room, the misc

Chapter End

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Mr. Rhodes, Your Dead Fiancée Is Pregnant

Guo Er Billionaires

“The same hour I got my pregnancy results, someone sent me photos of my fiancé kissing his first love on the Spanish Steps. I gave him three chances anyway. At the airport, I asked him to go public. He said there was no need. At dinner, I asked him to marry me at City Hall the next morning. He said I was acting out. Then I told him I was carrying his baby. Lucian Rhodes, the richest man in New York, the man who had proposed to me on one knee a month earlier, looked at me like a stranger. "I had a vasectomy two years ago. Watching you pretend to love me is disgusting." He slammed the door. The candles went out. I sat on the marble floor in the dark and bled. A week later I came back. Red lips, a resignation letter, a miscarriage report, and two cases of cash. My half of everything he had ever spent on me. "Three years, split fifty-fifty." On my arm was my new husband. On my way out, I told Lucian the only true thing I had ever said to him. "I never faked loving you. You called that disgusting. That's the one thing I won't forgive." Then I boarded my family's private jet. An hour later, he learned who I really was: the runaway daughter of a European banking dynasty, promised from birth to a crown prince. He learned his vasectomy had failed. He was on the airstair of his own jet, about to chase me across the Atlantic, when the news broke. My plane had gone down at sea. No survivors. The world lit candles for me. He coughed up blood on the tarmac. And on a private island in the Caribbean, with his baby growing inside me, I turned off the news and finished my mango.”