My best friend and I both ended up with unplanned pregnancies at the exact same time. She was carrying the child of an Oscar-winning actor, and I had the baby of a high-stakes New York tycoon. Since neither of them seemed particularly thrilled about the idea of fatherhood, my best friend suggested: "What if we just keep the kids and lose the dads?" I didn't hesitate: "Deal. Wherever you go, I go." So, we vanished. We fled the country with our baby bumps and started a dream life together abroad. Two years later, her toddler went viral on TikTok because he was a dead ringer for the famous actor. The camera panned just enough to catch me and my daughter in the background. That night, my bar was surrounded by men in black suits. Just as I reached for my phone to call 911, my hands were pinned behind my back and bound with a leather belt. The man gripped my waist, his voice a low, dangerous snarl in my ear: "Go ahead, call them. Guess how many times I can break you before the cops even pull into the lot?" 1 Heartbroken and fed up with men, my best friend, Mia, dragged me to a high-end club to blow off some steam. She was just about to reach out and touch the abs of a gorgeous male model when Ethan Sterling, the Oscar-winning heartthrob, appeared at the entrance. Ethan, hidden under a baseball cap, stormed over and pointed at the model, who admittedly shared his brooding good looks. "Who is this, Mia? Am I that easy to replace?" Mia flicked a glance at him and stood up with a cold smirk. "Why not? You treated me like a stand-in for your ex-girlfriend, Sophie, for a year. Why can't I find a better version of you?" "Besides," she added, "your family’s 'precious' heirloom watch is currently sitting on someone else’s wrist." Ethan went silent, his face pale. "I told you," he stammered, "I didn't give her that watch." Mia: "Great. Then go get it back." Silence stretched between them like a freezing river, making the thumping club music feel even more jarring. Ethan hesitated for a long time before sighing. "I'm sorry. I can't." Even though she expected that answer, Mia’s face crumpled for a split second. She grabbed her bag, signaled for me to call her, and stormed out in her stilettos. Ethan nodded to me and chased after her. Knowing how easily Ethan usually sweet-talked her back, I shouted after them: "Mia! Don't go soft! This is a dealbreaker! Dump him for real this time!" My throat was dry from yelling. Suddenly, a long-fingered hand offered me a slice of watermelon. I looked at the hand, thinking, Wow, this model is smooth. I turned with a smile: "Hey handsome, what's your name?" The smile froze. Standing behind me wasn't a model, but Caleb Vance. Cold features, a sharp jawline, and eyes that looked like they were carved from ice. I stumbled back, but he caught my wrist. Caleb leaned in, a dark smirk playing on his lips: "You like 'handsome' guys, huh?" "Fine. Let's go home. I've got plenty for you to look at." 2 That night, Caleb Vance pinned me against the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse until dawn. The view overlooked the city skyline—prime real estate where every square inch cost a fortune. If it wasn't for Caleb, I wouldn't even have clearance to enter the lobby. But I wasn't his girlfriend. I was his "pet." His high-end distraction. In my first year as a struggling actress, I met a director who tried to force himself on me. Caleb appeared and ended the situation with a single sentence. He was a titan of industry; I was a nobody. He never made a grand romantic gesture, but he protected me and provided for me. With a face that put Hollywood stars to shame, it was hard not to fall for him. But I knew my place. A "pet" is meant to be replaced. I knew this would never last. "Distracted again?" As if punishing my lack of focus, Caleb’s grip tightened. "What are you thinking about? Your 'handsome' models?" I let out a sharp gasp, my nails digging into his arm as I shook my head, biting my lip. My response clearly didn't satisfy him. He flipped me around. "Even if you weren't, you're going to feel this." Much later, as the storm subsided, Caleb carried me to the bath and held me in his arms. "I heard your sister, Seraphina, is back in the country?" I asked softly. "Mhm." Caleb was close with his sister; she was the real power behind the Vance family's domestic affairs. More importantly, she had brought someone back with her—the woman Caleb was supposed to marry in a high-society merger. "Can I meet her?" I tested. Caleb’s eyes snapped open. He studied me with a cold, searching gaze before looking away. "There's no need." Of course. A secret mistress doesn't meet the family. I hid my disappointment and forced a smile. "Okay." That night, Mia never called. It wasn't until noon the next day that I got a text. 【Don't worry. We're done for good.】 3 A month later, both Mia and I realized our periods were late. We went to the clinic together. When the ultrasound results came back with "PREGNANCY CONFIRMED" in bold letters, we both stared in dead silence. Mia snatched my results and hissed, "We agreed to get the career boost and then bail! How did you let this happen?" "We were careful!" I argued. Then, thinking of that night by the window, I lowered my voice. "But... things got intense. Maybe it failed." Mia rolled her eyes. I snatched her results back. "You're one to talk! You don't even have a guy right now! Who's the father?" Mia blinked, looking guilty. She muttered under her breath, "Ethan’s." "Who?" I asked, doing my best 'confused face.' She took a breath and yelled into my ear: "MY EX! ETHAN! STERLING!" My ears were ringing. "I heard you! You don't have to scream!" Mia was already broken up, and Ethan had his "first love," Sophie, looming in the background. And I was Caleb’s secret plaything while his fiancée was moving into town. Neither of these powerful men would want these children. Mia grabbed my hand. "What if... we just keep the kids and lose the dads?" I thought about it. Caleb had been generous over the years. With my savings and acting checks, I could afford a house in Australia. "A villa. Two moms. Two kids. A dog and a cat." It sounded like the perfect retirement plan. 4 We moved fast. Mia was already living separately from Ethan, so she was easy to spirit away. I was the problem. I spent weeks trying to find the right moment to end things with Caleb. Then, one night, he came home wasted. When I opened the door, my heart stopped. Caleb was leaning heavily on a beautiful woman. I recognized her from the tabloids—Caleb’s intended fiancée, Isabella Howe. "Hi, you must be Skylar? Caleb’s a bit drunk, I brought him home." She looked at me with a kind, composed smile. Unlike the "jealous fiancée" trope I expected, she seemed to know exactly who I was. I forced a smile and helped her get him onto the sofa. Isabella didn't leave. She looked around the penthouse and smiled. "Could I have a glass of water?" I walked to the kitchen island in silence. Her casual voice drifted from the living room. "I heard you’ve been taking care of Caleb while I was abroad. Thank you." "I’ve seen your work. It's hard for a woman to make it in Hollywood without a legacy. Seraphina and I actually admire you." "She mentioned she wanted to meet you at the family gala next month. Did Caleb tell you?" The glass in my hand nearly slipped. I turned to meet Isabella’s eyes. There was no mockery in them. No arrogance. Just the effortless confidence of a woman who actually belonged in Caleb’s world. A confidence I could never have. The weight in my chest finally settled. I knew it was time. That night, while Caleb was passed out, I packed. I left all the jewelry and luxury gifts behind. I only took a braided cord bracelet Caleb and I had bought from a street vendor once—a cheap thing for "good luck." I thought about saying goodbye to his face, but maybe silence was better. On the gray silk sheets, Caleb’s face was as breathtaking as the day I met him. He always thought he pursued me, but he never knew I fell for him at first sight. I felt a wave of bitterness. I sent one last text: 【I’m gone. Don’t come looking for me. Goodbye.】 I blocked his number and walked out. 5 Fast forward three years. We were living in a coastal town in Australia. We both had healthy toddlers. Mia’s son, Leo, and my daughter, Penny. When the kids turned three, Mia started a "Mommy Blogger" account, though she never showed her own face. I opened a small, trendy bar by the beach. Life was perfect. We had money, peace, and I had plenty of handsome surfers to look at. Then, a comment appeared on one of Mia’s videos. 【Is it just me, or does 'Leo' look exactly like Ethan Sterling?】 Ethan had posted childhood photos online years ago. Within hours, the internet had side-by-side comparisons. It wasn't just a resemblance. It was a clone. "Leo" blew up overnight. People started tagging Ethan everywhere. Someone asked Mia: 【Who’s the dad?】 Mia snarked back: 【No dad. Parthenogenesis.】 When people started accusing her of being a "homewrecker" with a "secret love child," she fired back: 【If you knew who the father was, you'd realize I'm the one who got unlucky.】 Seconds later, an account verified as Ethan Sterling replied. 【Are you sure about that, Mia?】 Mia panicked, deleted everything, and set her account to private. That night, she came to my bar, terrified Ethan would find her and sue for custody. I told her to breathe. "The internet is huge. Even if he sees the video, he can't find us in a country this big." To distract her, I promised to take her and the kids on a trip the next day. 6 We were at a famous landmark when a "Man on the Street" interviewer stopped us. Because of the viral drama, we declined and hurried away, but we couldn't stop them from posting the footage. The video showed Leo clearly, and it caught me and Penny too. The internet exploded. 【Holy crap, in high-def, that kid is definitely Ethan's.】 【Is that an actress in the background? She looks like Skylar Stone, the girl who vanished three years ago!】 Seeing the walls closing in, I talked to Mia. "Let's move again. The bar isn't doing great anyway. I’m ready to close it." Mia nodded. "I’m with you. Wherever you go, I go." Mia deleted her accounts. I posted a "Bar for Sale" ad. That same day, a buyer contacted me and asked to meet that night. I waited until closing time, but the buyer never showed. A weird sixth sense kicked in. Suddenly, the front door was kicked open. A dozen bodyguards in black suits flooded the bar. "Who are you looking for?" I demanded, my heart racing. No one answered. I bolted for the back exit. I ran out the door and slammed right into a solid chest. The scent of cedarwood hit me—a scent I knew by heart. I stumbled back and tried to dial 911. My wrist was snatched, and the phone hit the ground, its screen glowing in the dark. My hands were bound behind my back with a belt. He pulled me into his chest. A familiar, deep voice whispered in my ear: "Sky... have you been well?" The greeting was normal, but the tone was as cold as a grave. "Caleb, we broke up," I gasped. "This is Australia. You can't do this." "Break up?" He let out a dark laugh. "Did I agree to that?" "And as for what I can do... well, you're about to find out." The phone on the ground was answered by a dispatcher. Caleb picked it up and held it to my ear, his voice a low, arrogant chuckle. "Go ahead. Give them the address." "Guess how many times I can break you before the cops arrive?"
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