When my arch-nemesis mocked me for being single since birth, I got so mad I pinched red marks on my own neck. "See this? My boyfriend gave me these." He let out a cold scoff. "You? What man would ever want you?" Later, as I stood crying outside the OB-GYN clinic, my nemesis suddenly appeared, his face as dark as a storm cloud: "Who is the bastard? I’m going to beat him to death. "Stop crying. You and the baby—I’m taking you both." 1 When I opened my eyes in the morning, I realized I was lying in bed with a man. Completely naked. But that wasn't the scariest part. The scariest part was that the man was none other than my arch-nemesis, Grayson. Everyone in Manhattan's high society knew that the bad blood between us was deeper than the ocean and wider than the sky. Last night, we were drinking at a club and lost a dice game, which meant we were forced to kiss as a penalty. After the kiss, Grayson leaned lazily back against the leather sofa, a wicked smirk on his face: "A little inexperienced there, Miss Maya. Was that your first kiss?" Furious, I secretly pinched a few red marks onto my neck and deliberately showed them off to him: "See this? My boyfriend gave me these~ "My man is... absolutely incredible in bed! He kisses ten thousand times better than you do." Grayson's expression instantly darkened. He stared coldly at the "hickey" on my neck, his eyes unreadable. Then he scoffed, "Maya, please. You? What man would ever want you?" I didn't know if he was just pissed that he lost the game to me, but for someone who rarely drank, he got completely blackout drunk that night. I offered to drive him home, intending to snap some embarrassing photos of him wasted to use as blackmail. Instead, my plan completely backfired, and I ended up getting thoroughly railed by him all night long. Dammit! I bit my lip in frustration, trying to wriggle out of Grayson's deep sleep embrace. The second I moved, he subconsciously tightened his arms around me, burying his handsome face into the crook of my neck and nuzzling me: "Mia... be a good girl... let me stay inside a little longer..." Mia? Oh, real classy. We're literally still connected, and he’s mumbling the name of his high school crush! What a scumbag! It took every ounce of strength I had to escape that bed. The moment my feet hit the floor, my legs were so weak I almost dropped to my knees. The bedroom was an absolute disaster zone. There were suspicious wet spots on the sofa and even out on the balcony. Flashes of last night flickered through my mind. Grayson grabbing my ankles, gripping my waist, lifting me up... he even ripped my expensive tights to shreds. I wanted to slap myself. Why didn't I fight back?! But when my eyes drifted back to the bed, my hand stopped in mid-air. That physique. Those muscles. That size. Honestly, who could have resisted? I’d just treat it as a free night with a premium escort. A very well-endowed one. 2 There’s an unwritten rule among us wealthy heiresses: keep your hookups a secret. Show some skin if you want, but never show the face. If word got out that I slept with Grayson, I’d never be able to show my face in New York again. Enduring the soreness, I swiftly destroyed all the evidence, scrubbing every corner of the room until there wasn't a single trace I had been there. At one point, Grayson almost woke up, so I had to sell my soul and give him a few kisses and touches to coax him back to sleep. After sneaking out of his penthouse, I sat down at a nearby bodega, just about to breathe a sigh of relief. My phone suddenly rang. It was Grayson. He had clearly just woken up, his deep, magnetic voice slightly raspy: "Maya, where are you?" The moment he spoke, my brain involuntarily flashed back to him biting my ear last night, telling me to relax. My face burned fiercely. I stammered, "Wh-what do you want?" "Did you bring me home last night?" "Um, yeah. I... I was just on the way, and I wanted to see you make a fool of yourself while drunk." Grayson didn't snap back at me like he usually did. Instead, he asked in a low voice, "Did you sleep at my place last night?" I smoothly lied, "...Yeah, I had a headache from the drinks, so I crashed in your guest room. I left first thing this morning." "You didn't sleep in my bed?" "...No." I gripped my phone guiltily. "In your dreams! Who would want to sleep in your bed?!" "..." Grayson fell silent. Just then, a frat boy walked into the bodega and bumped into my shoulder, making me let out a surprised yelp. Grayson's voice suddenly turned freezing cold: "Are you with a guy?" I immediately played along: "Oh, yeah, with my boyfriend! We're about to go have some fun. Now spit it out, what did you call me for?" Grayson's voice was completely devoid of emotion: "Nothing. Must have been a dream. I'm hanging up." What kind of dream? A... wet dream?! Good. Great. It was for the best if he thought that. I knew he wouldn't figure it out. After all, I had ten years of experience cleaning up the crime scenes of my dad's affairs. Just to be safe, after hanging up, I went on Instagram and posted a heavily cropped photo of me posing intimately with some faceless, muscular male model. I captioned it with three red lip emojis. Turns out, my little performance worked perfectly. For the next month, everything was peaceful. Grayson didn't suspect a thing, and he didn't reach out to me even once. I completely let my guard down. I threw a massive party, ready to let loose and have a good time. But before I could even swallow my first sip of champagne, I hurled it right back up. 3 The moment I got the lab results, my brain completely short-circuited. I was pregnant. Was Grayson a damn sniper in his past life? How did he hit a bullseye on the first shot?! Thinking about the doctor asking me if I wanted to keep the baby, my head pounded. I just wanted to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head, and escape reality. But the universe had other plans. I was still sitting on a chair in the OB-GYN waiting room when my mother called. "Maya! Mrs. Henderson just called me. She said she saw you at the women's clinic. Are you pregnant?!" A sudden wave of grievance hit me. I desperately wanted someone to confide in, my voice choking up: "Mom, listen to me... I think I actually want to keep it—" But before I could even finish, my mother sharply cut me off: "Get rid of it immediately! "I've already found a suitable match for you to marry. You're going to come home, get the marriage certificate, and help us secure that Upper East Side real estate deal. We need to stabilize your father's attitude towards us..." I froze. It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. My heart, and my entire body, went instantly numb. "Mom... you didn't even ask how I'm doing, or who the father is, and you just want me to abort it?" "It doesn't matter whose it is! Your illegitimate half-brother is climbing the ranks at the company! That mistress's brat is trying to steal our inheritance!" "Mom, is that all you care about? Am I just a tool for you to fight for dad's favor?" "Don't act crazy with me! If you were a boy, do you think I'd have to fight so hard? It's my own fault my womb was useless and gave me a daughter, but I've never mistreated you! I'm just asking you to marry someone, how can you speak to your mother this way?!" "Just asking me to marry someone? Mom, do you ever consider my feelings?!" My hand shook violently as I gripped the phone. "Just like how every time you need money, you force me to go catch dad cheating, pretend I'm on his side, clean up his messes, and use it to extort hush money out of him! "Mom, you might be willing to endure this twisted, toxic marriage, but I am not!" My mother was silent for a second, then said coldly: "I don't care what nonsense you're spewing. Maya, I am giving you one week to abort that child and come home to get married. Otherwise, don't ever call me your mother again, and don't expect a single cent from this family!" The line went dead with a cold beep. I couldn't hold back the burning in my eyes anymore. Like a complete loser, I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. I didn't even care that my phone had dropped to the floor. Through my broken sobs, a pair of polished, designer dress shoes appeared between the gaps of my tear-soaked fingers. "So this is what the great Maya looks like when she cries. Pretty ugly." A deep, magnetic voice laced with amusement rang out above me. I snapped my head up, locking eyes with Grayson's narrowed, calculating gaze. Wh-what was he doing here?! Realizing my makeup was probably ruined, I aggressively wiped my tears away and turned my face to the side. "Mind your own business!" Grayson kept one hand casually in his tailored slacks, not moving an inch, a smirk playing on his lips: "Where's that muscle-head boyfriend you flexed on Instagram? Didn't accompany you to your appointment? Did you get dumped? "Crying all alone outside an OB-GYN clinic... people might get the wrong idea." I shot up from the chair. "Don't talk nonsense! I am not pregnant! I'm not here because I'm pregnant!" The very next second, a nurse walked out into the hall and called out: "Miss Maya? Are you still booking the abortion procedure? If you don't book now, we won't have any openings left today." Me: "..." Grayson clearly hadn't expected it to be real. His eyes snapped toward me, his gaze instantly turning razor-sharp. "Maya, how far along are you?" As he spoke, he caught sight of the lab report I had left on the chair. He immediately bent down to grab it... 4 My heart almost stopped! I lunged forward, snatching the report right before his fingers could graze it, and hid it behind my back. That was way too close! If Grayson found out the baby was his, he would absolutely drag me into the operating room himself. "Grayson, what the hell are you doing?! A woman's uterus is... private! You can't just read my files! "You want to know? Fine! I am pregnant... 9 weeks along! So what? Are you here to mock me for getting knocked up out of wedlock?" I stuck my neck out and glared at him. Loud, proud, and completely full of shit. The elite acting skills I had honed from years of deceiving my father were really paying off. Grayson stared at me for a good ten seconds, apparently not finding any flaws in my performance. When he heard "9 weeks," his expression grew visibly colder. Obviously, the timeline didn't line up with the night I took him home. He asked abruptly, "The kid belongs to that muscle guy?" I mumbled guiltily, "...Yeah." "He doesn't know?" "...Wh-why would he need to know?" I forced a completely indifferent look onto my face. "Call him," Grayson demanded, his face devoid of emotion. "Tell him to get down here. Now." "..." How was I supposed to summon a man who didn't exist?! I braced myself and lied: "He blocked me." "Blocked you?" Grayson repeated the words slowly, his voice carrying the heavy, oppressive weight of a coming storm. "Maya, you're usually so arrogant, always barking so loud. But now you let some trash guy use you and dump you, and you just sit here crying like a coward?" He was sneering, interrogating me, acting like he was furiously angry. Wait a minute, what right did he have to be angry?! Even if we were childhood rivals, mocking me in a moment like this was just cruel. I bit my lip in frustration and fired back: "Who said I got dumped?! I dumped him!" Grayson sneered, "Oh? Then why are you crying?" "I... I'm crying tears of joy, okay?!" Grayson fell silent. I thought he had finished enjoying the show and would finally leave. But after a moment of silence, he spoke again: "What are you going to do about the baby?" I blurted out without thinking: "I'm keeping it." Honestly, when I was arguing with my mother on the phone earlier, breaking down and crying, a part of me wasn't surprised at all. I had a strong premonition it would happen. If I didn't abort the baby and go home to be her pawn, my mother would truly discard me, because I would be completely useless to her. People who have never been loved are always terrifyingly rational. This baby... might be the only real family I'll ever have. "Keeping it?" Grayson let out a harsh scoff, his tone dripping with venom: "Maya, you are so obsessed with that naked muscle freak that you'd ruin your life to keep his bastard child? "Since when were you such a pathetic, love-struck simp?" See? He just wanted to watch me make a joke of myself. What a bastard! I didn't want him to see me vulnerable and defeated anymore. I looked away, stood up, and walked right past him.
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