My Unborn Billionaire Son

The abortion pill pressed cold against my lips. The Wall Street billionaire who kept mehis first love, his ex-fiancejust landed at JFK today. I refused to be the pathetic, stage-five clinger stand-in. I had walked straight into the clinic and booked the procedure, ready to wipe my slate entirely clean.

But as I parted my lips, a toddler's voice exploded right inside my skull.

[Mom, I'm a fresh respawn! Don't abort me!]

My spine snapped rigid.

[My dad is a hopeless backup guy! That high-society golden girl doesn't even love him!]

[Plus, his sperm count is an absolute joke! I am the only heir he will ever produce in his entire life!]

[Have me, let me inherit his billion-dollar empire, and your son will drag you straight to the top of the food chain!]

I stared dead at the little white pill resting in my palm. The room fell dead silent for one heavy heartbeat.

I turned on my heel and dropped it straight into the trash.

Chapter 1

I read enough fiction to know better than to question the phantom toddler in my head. I locked myself inside my car and gripped the steering wheel, lowering my voice. "Okay, buddy. So does this mean I should tell your dad I'm pregnant?"

[No way! My dad has no idea he's just the tragic backup guy. He's totally focused on chasing that high-society golden girl right now. If he finds out I exist, he'll never let me be born!]

I chewed on my lower lip. "What about your grandmother, then?"

Tristan might be losing his mind over love, but Rosalind was a shrewd woman. She would definitely value a hard-won grandson.

[Absolutely not! We can't tell her either!]

[Grandma despises secret lovers who try to sleep their way to the top. If she projects that hate onto me, she might not give a damn about a baby that isn't even born yet!]

He had a point. I let out a long breath. "Then what exactly is the game plan here?"

[You need to get out of New York as fast as possible and have me in secret. Wait until I'm older before letting them know I exist.]

[My dad is going to stay unmarried and childless forever just for that golden girl. By then, Grandma will have zero options. She'll have to accept me!]

My fingers tapped nervously against the leather console. "But if we do that, you'll be an illegitimate child." The whole reason I had walked into that clinic was that I refused to bring a bastard into this world.

[You're overthinking this, Mom. My dad is so obsessed he won't marry anyone but her. He's going to be a bachelor for the rest of his life. At worst, I'm just born out of wedlock.]

[If you have me, the entire bloodline will literally drop to their knees and thank you!]

That clicked. "Alright. I'm going back to pack my bags and tell Tristan we are done."

Thanks to the voice in my head, the entire picture finally made sense. This was a fictional universe. The female lead was Genevieve, the heiress of the Song family empire.

The male lead was Mason. And Tristan was the pathetic backup guy destined to grovel for a love he'd never get.

Genevieve had been Tristan's childhood friend, spending her entire adolescence obsessed with him. But Tristan was an emotionally unavailable jerk back then. He only treated her like a little sister who needed looking after, and ruthlessly rejected her.

Devastated, Genevieve fled the country and didn't return until seven years later. When they finally reunited, Tristan realized he had been secretly in love with her all along. He started chasing her like a madman.

But Genevieve's heart had already been shattered by him, not to mention she had Mason aggressively pursuing her. After some back-and-forth, Genevieve chose that young tech billionaire who was as fiercely loyal to her as a golden retriever.

Tristan never got over her, spending the rest of his pathetic life silently guarding Genevieve from the shadows.

Chapter 2

Wasn't this the classic plotline where the tragic backup guy grovels for love? If Tristan wasn't the father of the child growing inside me, I would have grabbed some popcorn and enjoyed the show. As for me? I was just a disposable pawn.

The moment his golden girl flew back into the country, he was going to cut me a fat check and show me the door. My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached.

When I walked into the penthouse, Tristan was already home from the office. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke, the rigid lines of his broad shoulders betraying the tension beneath.

I instinctively reached out to wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, but alarm bells went off in my head. He had another woman occupying his heart. Swallowing the sour taste of rejection, I took a physical step back, putting distance between us. "Tristan," I greeted, my tone strictly business.

He snapped out of his trance. His piercing gaze locked onto me for two heavy seconds before he crushed his cigarette into the crystal ashtray. "We need to talk."

A cold weight plummeted to the bottom of my stomach. Here it comes. Even though I had mentally prepared myself for this exact moment, a sharp, needle-like pain still pierced straight through my chest.

[Mom, don't panic! We saw this coming!]

[My dad not loving you isn't the end of the world. Being broke is what's truly terrifying!]

[Besides, you still have me. I love you the most!]

Ezra's voice hit me like a bucket of ice water. My senses instantly sharpened. I took a deep breath, forcing the corners of my mouth into a flawless, unbothered smile. "About what?"

Tristan leaned against the wall. His eyes met mine, his gaze as dead and flat as his tone. It was a level of calm that felt entirely cold-blooded. "How long have we been together?"

I kept the smile plastered on my face. "Almost five years. Next month makes it official."

I had always known my place in the food chain. I knew this transactional arrangement came with an expiration date. But sharing a bed with a man this captivating for half a decade?

It was impossible to keep my heart completely out of the crossfire. My chest squeezed tightly.

Tristan gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "Has it really been that long."

Yeah, long enough for you to trade in for a newer model, I thought bitterly. Objectively speaking, compared to the other filthy-rich playboys in his circle, he was practically a saint.

He kept me as his exclusive secret for five whole years. Most billionaires cycled through a dozen women in that timeframe. I should count my blessings.

Tristan let the silence stretch for a long moment before speaking, his tone heavy with implication. "I've been thinking. We can't keep doing this forever. So, I want to"

His phone buzzed sharply, cutting him off.

Tristan grabbed it. The moment his eyes hit the screen, he immediately stepped out onto the balcony. My eyes darted to the screen, catching the caller ID: Genevieve.

My throat closed up. The urge to cry burned behind my eyes. Out on the balcony, he kept his voice completely muffled behind the heavy glass doors. I couldn't hear a single word.

But the look on his face? It was a sickeningly gentle, patient expression. The kind of look a man only gives a woman he would burn the world down for.

Knowing that from now on, he was going to package up all that tendernessthe tenderness that used to be exclusively mineand hand it over to another woman felt like a physical punch to the gut. My fingernails dug hard into my palms.

The sweet, tiny voice echoed back into my mind.

[Mom, it's okay! You have me, and I will love you forever!]

The tight knot in my chest loosened just a fraction.

[Besides, my dad is just the tragic backup guy who can't get the girl! He can sacrifice everything, and the golden girl still won't pick him. He's way more pathetic than you!]

The kid made an excellent point. At least I had my son to keep me company. Tristan was doomed to drown in his unrequited misery for the rest of his miserable life.

Chapter 3

Happiness really is a comparative sport. The moment I pictured my son inheriting Tristan's billion-dollar empire and dragging me to the top of the food chain, my mood skyrocketed. Hold it together. Do not smile!

About three minutes later, Tristan stepped back into the living room. The muscles along his jaw leaped.

"Something urgent came up. I need to head out. We'll finish this conversation when I get back."

I forced my face into a blank mask and nodded. "Okay."

Tristan grabbed his coat and strode out without looking back. I watched him leave. The heavy thud of the door shutting left a hollow crater in my chest. I stood there staring at the closed door, my mind wiped blank.

[Mom, stop spiraling! We need to get out of here before my dad finds out you're pregnant!]

[Tristan might not be a mob boss with blood on his hands, but if he doesn't want me born, he would absolutely use his private security to drag you to some underground clinic and force an abortion!]

A cold weight plummeted to the bottom of my stomach. My son was right.

Tristan had no idea he was just the pathetic backup guy. He was probably racking his brain right now figuring out how to win Genevieve back. If he found out my pregnancy was ruining his chances, my son and I were dead meat!

"Okay, okay, I'm packing right now!"

Tristan was insanely generous with me. Over the past five years, he hadn't just handed me a limitless black card; he had stuffed my walk-in closet with Hermes Birkin bags and limited-edition haute couture.

There was no way I could pack all of it on such short notice. I quickly shoved my most portable valuables, a few favorite outfits, and a couple of bags into my suitcase. Before walking out the door, I shot Tristan a breakup text.

[Tristan, I'm heading back to C City. Thank you for taking care of me these past few years. Wishing you all the best.]

He didn't reply. He probably thought it was beneath him to acknowledge it.

A sharp sting of disappointment hit me. Not because he didn't beg me to stay, but because the bastard didn't even wire me a severance package! Sure, he gave me plenty of cash while we were together, but who says no to a parting bonus?

I booked the earliest red-eye flight back to my home state, departing just after 1:00 AM. Sitting in the cabin, my mind involuntarily replayed every little detail of how Tristan and I met.

I was born in a rundown trailer park down South. My parents were absolute bottom-feeders who only cared about their next bottle of liquor and illegal pills. To escape that suffocating dump, I worked myself to the bone, drowning myself in heavy student loans just to scrape my way into a completely nameless community college.

But my skills were limited, and the job market was a complete nightmare. Graduation basically meant instant unemployment. I had no choice but to bank on my face and my figure, landing a gig as a freelance promotional model.

Five years ago, Tristan flew to C City for a business trip. A corporate partner invited him to attend a ribbon-cutting ceremony for a new commercial plaza. I was one of the hostesses that day, specifically assigned to assist him.

When our eyes met, a flash of pure stun sparked in his dark gaze, gone as quickly as it appeared.

Tristan wasn't just ridiculously wealthy; he was tall, dangerously handsome, and the ultimate golden bachelor. Honestly? The thought of latching onto a sugar daddy definitely crossed my mind. But I was a coward, and I figured a guy looking like that was definitely taken, so I killed the fantasy before it even started.

After the ceremony wrapped up, some sleazy executive tried to corner and harass me. Out of nowhere, Tristan actually stepped in and bailed me out. Afterward, he flat-out asked if I wanted to be with him.

I was a hundred percent down, but before I nodded, I forced myself to ask if he was single. The question caught him off guard. He stared at me, blinked, and then let out a low chuckle, confirming he wasn't seeing anyone.

It was a mutual transaction. Everything else after that just naturally fell into place.

Chapter 4

The very next day, I followed him back to New York.

Tristan had a lethal attraction for me, and it wasn't just because of his calculated, ever-ready checkbook. He would dominate me in bed, but outside of it, he gave me unquestionable respect, never once using his elite, high-and-mighty status to degrade my value as his secret lover. Whenever someone tried to cross me, he would step in and shield me without a second of hesitation.

It was exactly because he treated me so flawlessly that, even knowing our expiration date was carved in stone, I couldn't stop myself from sinking into the beautiful, intoxicating illusion he created. But in the dead of night, the cold reality would always snap me awake.

From the moment I agreed to be his, I had started preparing for my exit. I never blew the cash he gave me on pointless things.

Three years ago, I used the money he gave me to buy a gorgeous, detached house with a wrap-around front porch in a quiet small town far away from the chaos. Two years ago, I already set up a cozy nursery, ready to start my secret new life at a moment's notice.

The second I arrived, I hired a cleaning crew to scrub the place top to bottom. To sever ties with my past and avoid any unnecessary drama, I pulled my old SIM card out of my phone, snapped it in half, and activated a new one.

I wasn't stupid. I knew that if Tristan really wanted to track me down, it would take him five minutes.

But he was too busy fighting Mason for Genevieve's heart to even remember I existed. Theoretically, I was completely off the radar.

Now that we were settled in, my son seemed absolutely thrilled, confessing his love to me every single day.

[Mom, I love you so much!]

[Being with you is the best thing ever.]

[Mom, I want to stay with you forever!]

I looked back on my twenty-seven years of life. Other than my unborn son, I couldn't remember a single person ever telling me they loved me. Even Tristan, at the absolute height of our physical intimacy, had only ever said he liked me. A thick knot formed in my throat, and my vision blurred with hot tears.

"Mom loves you too, baby. Forever."

I made a silent, blood oath right then and there. I would never let anyone hurt my baby. Even if it cost me my life.

Even though Ezra insisted he was going to be born perfectly healthy, I wasn't taking any chances. I kept up with all my prenatal appointments. But on the day of my anatomy scan, the second I walked into the ultrasound center, I locked eyes with the man standing right by the entrance.

"Shit!" My blood ran ice-cold. I instantly whipped around, turning my back to him.

[Mom, what's wrong?] Every time my emotions spiked, Ezra could sense it as long as he was awake.

I barely moved my lips as I whispered, "I just saw your dad."

[Mom, don't panic! You have a mask on. It won't be that easy for him to recognize you.]

[Walk away normally. Do not run. If you run, you're just going to draw his attention!]

Ezra was right. I wasn't just wearing a surgical mask; I was buried in an oversized hoodie and baggy sweatpants, clothes I had never once worn around Tristan. There was no way he could spot me that easily. I forced my breathing to steady, put one foot in front of the other, and walked slowly toward the escalators.

At first, everything was fine.

But just as I reached the edge of the escalator steps, an iron grip clamped down on my arm.

A massive, brutal force yanked me backward.

I stumbled two steps, barely catching my balance before I crashed to the floor. I snapped my head up.

Tristan's dark eyes were locked onto mine, burning with a terrifying, barely suppressed rage.

My limbs locked into place. The rushing in my ears wiped out every single coherent thought.

Chapter 5

Tristan leaned forward, his massive frame completely swallowing me in his shadow. His voice was a cold, mocking drawl.

"Running the second you see me. Got something to hide?"

He tapped his finger against the wall next to my head. "Did you really think a cheap surgical mask was enough to hide from me?"

My brain short-circuited. My jaw locked tight, completely unable to form a single syllable.

[Mom, don't panic! Just don't let him find out you're here for an OB-GYN appointment. Make up literally any excuse!]

I forced my breathing to steady. I pulled my lips back into a stiff, robotic smile.

"I wasn't running. I just finished my checkup and was heading home. Did you need something, Tristan?"

Tristan's dark eyes did a slow, calculating sweep up and down my body before locking dead onto the ultrasound requisition form in my hand. "Are you sick?"

I frantically crushed the paper into a ball and shoved it deep into my coat pocket. "It's nothing. Just a little anemia. I came to get some vitamins prescribed."

Tristan's towering figure closed in, radiating an overwhelming, suffocating dominance. He let out a dark sneer. "You've only been away from me for two months, and you've already let yourself get this pathetic? Are you entirely incapable of taking care of yourself?"

He reached out, his hand diving straight for my pocket to grab the crumpled form.

Just as sheer panic seized my throat, his executive assistant rushed over, his face grim. "Mr. Vance, Miss Song has acute appendicitis. The doctors are saying she needs surgery immediately."

Tristan's hand froze mid-air. The muscles in his jaw jumped. He glared down at me, his teeth practically grinding together. "Add my number back right now."

I gave a stiff, reluctant nod. "Fine."

"Do not play games with me, or I swear to God I will make you regret it."

Leaving that dangerous, open-ended threat hanging in the air, Tristan spun around and strode off rapidly down the hall with his assistant.

I stood paralyzed, my feet glued to the floor tiles until his broad back completely disappeared around the corner. Then, I practically sprinted out of the hospital like a hunted animal.

Sitting in the cab on the way home, my hands were still shaking. "Ezra, what the hell does he mean by telling me to add his number back?"

[I have zero idea, Mom.]

"So do I add him or not?"

[Of course you add him! If you blow him off, he's absolutely going to run a full background check on you. The second he does that, there is no way we can keep this pregnancy hidden!]

I slumped back against the seat. "Fine."

But every fiber of my being wanted to hurl my phone out the window. My chest tightened in pure misery.

Even though I had wiped Tristan from my contacts, his ten-digit number was permanently seared into my brain. As soon as I walked through my front door, I pulled up the app and sent a contact request to his number.

It took an entire agonizing hour before the notification popped up. He accepted the request. A second later, a single message came through.

[Send me your address.]

My stomach dropped into my shoes.

"Ezra, why is he asking for my address? Don't tell me he's actually coming to find me." The mere thought made the blood freeze in my veins.

Ezra seemed to ponder for a second. [It's definitely a possibility.]

My pulse hammered against my ribs. "What if he already knows I'm pregnant? Did he figure it out? Is it too late to pack up and run?"

[It doesn't look like he knows yet. If he did, he would have never let you walk out of that hospital.]

[Besides, Mom, running is completely pointless. With his money, him finding you is just a matter of time.]

"So what, we just sit here and wait to be slaughtered?" I dug my nails into my scalp.

The suffocating weight of absolute despair crushed down on my chest. "Don't worry, baby. If we go down, mom will go down with you."

[Look, Mom, birth rates are tanking globally right now. The reincarnation queue is backed up for at least a century, and there's no guarantee I'll even spawn alive next time.]

That choked the tragic words right out of my throat. "Never mind. Let's keep fighting to survive."

Chapter 6

[Mom, don't panic. Based on his reaction, he probably hasn't figured out I exist yet. Maybe he just came to see you.]

"He's literally glued to his golden girl's side right now. Why the hell would he want to see me?"

[I have no idea! We'll just have to play it by ear when he shows up. Roll with the punches.]

[If worse comes to worst, just] Ezra's voice trailed off.

"Just what?"

[Just accept reality.]

"Great." I hit send, dropping my location pin to Tristan with a heavy sigh.

[Mom, do a sweep of the house right now. Hide anything remotely suspicious. We cannot let him find out.]

"On it!"

I scrambled off the sofa and went into a full-blown panic-cleaning mode. Prenatal vitamins, baby magazines, ultrasound pamphletsI swept it all up and shoved it into the back of the utility closet. I did a double-sweep of the entire house, ensuring the place looked completely sterile of any baby evidence, before collapsing back onto the couch.

My lungs barely had time to expand before the doorbell chimed.

It sounded like a death knell. I dragged my feet to the entryway, inhaled a massive breath of air, and turned the deadbolt.

Tristan stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders practically blocking out the porch light. His jaw was locked tight, his dark eyes exuding a chilling, inaccessible aura. Trouble in paradise with the golden girl?

I plastered on a painfully stiff smile. "Tristan. Long time no see."

He gave a curt, almost imperceptible nod. "I have business in town for a few days. I despise the hotels around here. I'm crashing at your place."

Crashing here? A sharp throb pulsed against my temples. It was trueTristan despised hotels.

The man could buy out the penthouse suite at the Four Seasons and still complain about the thread count. But there was no way in hell I could let him stay under my roof right now!

My hesitation didn't go unnoticed. His dark eyes narrowed, locking onto mine like a predator assessing its prey. "Am I interrupting something?"

[Do not reject him! The more you push back, the more he's going to suspect you're hiding something. Just play along!]

I immediately flipped the switch, flashing an overly bright, customer-service smile. "Not at all! Mi casa es su casa."

"Make yourself comfortable." I stepped aside, sweeping my arm toward the living room.

He shot me a flat, thoroughly unimpressed look before stepping past me, bringing a gust of cold evening air and the faint scent of his expensive cedarwood cologne into my hallway.

Panic simmered in my gut. I needed a minute to regroup and strategize with Ezra.

My eyes darted around until an excuse hit me. "Tristan, I don't have any men's toiletries stocked. Let me run down to the drugstore and grab some basics for you."

He unbuttoned his suit jacket, not even looking my way. "Make it quick."

I grabbed my phone and practically bolted out the front door.

The second the elevator doors slid shut, I kept my voice at a harsh whisper. "Ezra, are we seriously letting him sleep in the house?" My brain was spinning, desperately searching for an excuse to kick him to the curb, but coming up completely empty.

[We don't have a choice, Mom!]

[You know how paranoid he gets. If you block him from staying, he's going to tear the place apart looking for your secrets.]

That was exactly what I was afraid of, which was why I hadn't slammed the door in his face. "Fine. We play host."

[Mom, whatever you do, you absolutely cannot throw up around him. The second you get morning sickness, he's going to know!]

Thankfully, that was the least of my worries. My early pregnancy symptoms were incredibly mild. A slight wave of nausea here and there, sure, but nothing close to actually hugging the toilet.

"Relax. I've got an iron stomach."

Ezra let out a tiny, phantom yawn in my mind. [Mom, I'm exhausted. I'm going to take a nap.]

"Go to sleep, baby. Mom's got this."

Chapter 7

When I walked back into the house holding the plastic drugstore bag, the living room was completely empty. For a split second, I thought he had actually left. I was practically ready to throw a party when the utility closet door swung open, and Tristan stepped out.

My heart completely stalled in my chest.

Just as I was calculating whether I should drop to my knees and beg for my life, he did a slow sweep of the room and offered a deadpan review. "The place is clean."

I forced my mouth into a stiff line. "I have a lot of free time. I scrub it every day."

Did he seriously march into my storage closet to do a white-glove inspection? What an absolute psycho!

A faint trace of awkwardness seemed to flash across his features. He didn't offer any further critique, just extended his large hand toward me. "Give it here."

"Right." I quickly shoved the plastic bag into his palm.

Tristan slid his feet into the guest slippers and walked straight to the bathroom with the bag. He moved with the absolute authority of a man walking through his own damn house. Well, considering his wire transfer funded this entire property, he technically had the right to treat it like his territory.

Honestly? I was judging him so hard right now. He was supposed to be completely obsessed with chasing his golden girl, Genevieve, yet here he was, crashing at his former secret lover's house.

With zero boundaries like this, no wonder he was doomed to be the tragic backup guy. Serves him right!

The shower stopped quickly. I had just finished smoothing out the sheets in the guest room when he stepped out, wearing absolutely nothing but a single towel slung low on his hips, beads of water still trailing down his heavily muscled torso. He crossed his thick arms and leaned against the doorframe, his gaze heavy and dangerously predatory as it locked onto me.

"You want me to sleep in the guest room?"

My brain short-circuited. I nodded without a single second of hesitation. "Yeah!"

What else was supposed to happen? It wasn't like he was going to sleep in my bed. If he was trying to win over the golden girl, he needed to keep his hands to himself. Basic fidelity was the bare minimum.

Tristan's dark eyes instantly dropped a few degrees in temperature. His facial expression barely shifted, but the sudden, suffocating drop in air pressure told me everything. He was pissed.

It took my sluggish brain a solid three seconds to process why he was mad. He didn't just lack boundaries; the bastard actually expected to sleep with me tonight!

The level of sheer disrespect was staggering. No wonder Genevieve rejected him. Thank God she didn't pick him!

I stammered, taking a defensive step back. "Tristan, our arrangement is over. This isn't appropriate."

Thank God Ezra was asleep in my mind, or I would have literally died of embarrassment.

"Not appropriate, or are you hiding something from me?"

My hand instinctively jerked toward my stomach before I quickly ripped it away, forcing out a dry, awkward laugh. "I'm not hiding anything. I just don't think it's a good idea."

Tristan's jawline instantly snapped tight, his gaze turning dark and ruthlessly dangerous. He stepped forward, closing the distance with the fluid, deliberate strides of an apex predator backing me into a corner.

"Do you realize that every single time you lie, your breathing gives you away?"

My heart flatlined.

Did he figure it out?! A cold sweat broke out across the back of my neck. I kept scrambling backward in pure panic until the back of my knees slammed hard against the nightstand. I was entirely trapped.

Tristan slapped both hands flat against the wall on either side of my head, trapping me inside the cage of his massive arms. The sheer, crushing pressure of his physical dominance instantly sucked all the oxygen out of the room.

"Already found yourself a new sugar daddy this quickly? Can't handle a single month without someone paying your bills?"

My head snapped up. I stared at him in complete, utter disbelief.

Chapter 8