Pregnant by the Billionaire I’m Divorcing

Elena's POV

At one in the morning, rain hammered against the windows in Ravenport.

Elena had barely pushed herself upright when Damian caught her around the waist and dragged her back onto the bed. His teeth grazed the nape of her neck as he pulled her robe open.

His palm slid down her stomach. His fingers slipped between her slick folds and found the spot that made her knees weaken.

A moan caught in her throat.

She was still sore from earlier, but he was already hard again, the heated length of him pressing between her thighs in a slow, deliberate stroke.

A second later, he lifted her off the bed and carried her to the vanity. He turned her around and pressed her against the mirror. The cold glass met her burning skin, making her nipples tighten and her entire body shiver.

Damian stood behind her, one hand locked around her waist. The other parted her as the head of his cock pressed against her soaked entrance, teasing her without pushing inside.

Elena instinctively drew back.

"Do you want me to stop?" His voice was rough, his breath hot against her ear.

Three years. No interference in each other's lives. Walk away when the contract ended.

The terms flashed through her mind.

But when he started to pull away, she reached back and caught his arm. Then she pushed her hips toward him.

"Don't stop."

The last of Damian's restraint snapped.

He gripped her hips and drove into her in one hard thrust.

Fast. Hard. Deep.

Every stroke reached the place that made her lose control. Her nails scraped across the vanity, her knuckles turning white. Bottles rattled. The mirror fogged beneath her breath, and even the storm couldn't drown out her broken gasps.

Damian bent over her and bit down on her shoulder, his hips striking harder.

In the mirror, Elena saw her flushed face and unfocused eyes. The marks he had left across her collarbone stood out against her skin.

And for one reckless moment, three years didn't seem nearly long enough.

When it was over, Damian carried her back to bed. His arm remained possessively wrapped around her waist even after he fell asleep.

Elena carefully lifted it away and got up to retrieve her robe from the carpet.

The moment she stood, nausea rolled through her.

She caught the edge of the vanity and waited for the dizziness to pass before looking at herself in the mirror.

Her cheeks were still flushed. His kisses still marked her collarbone.

After two years of marriage, this side of Damian could still unsettle her.

To the outside world, he was the youngest head of the Hawthorne Group--powerful, precise, and unwilling to let anything disrupt his plans.

But he was also the man who pulled her into his arms whenever thunder frightened her. The man who remembered she never added sugar to her coffee.

He had never told her he loved her.

But to a woman who had grown up never knowing where she would sleep the next night, the order Damian brought into her life had once felt more intoxicating than any declaration of love.

Two years ago, Elena had been on the verge of losing her apartment. She couldn't afford the final year of medical school, and her father's gambling debts had swallowed what little she had left.

She had believed there was no way out.

Then Damian had solved her most urgent problems and placed a contract in front of her.

"I need a wife. For three years."

He had sounded as though he were negotiating an acquisition.

He needed a stable marriage to satisfy the Hawthorne family and the board. She needed a chance to survive. The terms were clear, the arrangement fair.

After three years, they would both be free.

Elena hadn't loved him then.

That had happened slowly.

She grew used to his reliability. If he promised to pick her up, he was never late. If he said he would handle a problem, it had disappeared by the following morning.

He arranged her driver, her doctors, and her residency schedule.

He rarely asked whether she wanted any of it.

And she never told him she didn't.

For most of her life, Elena had never understood that being protected and having someone make every decision for her were not the same thing.

She returned to bed.

As if he sensed her absence, Damian frowned without opening his eyes.

"Where did you go?"

"To get some water."

"Come back."

Two words, delivered like an order he expected her to obey.

Elena lay down beside him anyway.

Damian immediately pulled her back into his arms and soon fell asleep again.

Tomorrow was their second wedding anniversary.

Listening to the rain against the glass, Elena let herself wonder if they truly had to walk away when their third year ended.

The next morning, Elena nearly fainted in a hallway at St. Catherine's Medical Center.

She had come in for her residency rotation, but the smell of disinfectant sent her running for the restroom. After hearing her symptoms and asking about her last period, the attending physician ordered tests immediately.

Forty minutes later, a report was placed in front of her.

"Congratulations." The doctor smiled. "You're about six weeks pregnant. Your bloodwork looks normal, but you need plenty of rest and regular follow-up appointments."

Elena stared at the conclusion at the bottom of the page.

Six weeks pregnant.

Her hand slowly moved to her stomach. It was still flat. Nothing had changed on the outside.

And yet a tiny life had already been growing inside her for more than a month.

"Was the pregnancy planned?" the doctor asked.

Elena opened her mouth, but no answer came at first.

She and Damian had never discussed children. Their contract even stated that they wouldn't try for an heir during the marriage.

But all she could think about was the way he had held her last night.

"No," she said softly.

After a moment, she added, "But I want this baby."

The rain had stopped by the time she left the hospital.

Elena slipped the report into her bag. As she passed a baby boutique, she noticed a pair of impossibly tiny white socks in the window.

She didn't buy them.

She simply stood there for a while.

Today was their anniversary.

A baby wouldn't make Damian love her. But he took responsibility seriously. Maybe the child would make him reconsider their marriage.

The hope filled her with shame.

Their baby shouldn't become a bargaining chip she used to keep a man.

She only wanted to know whether Damian might change his mind for her--just once.

At seven that evening, Elena finished setting the table.

She placed the medical report inside a plain white envelope and laid it beside Damian's usual seat.

He came home on time.

After handing his dark overcoat to the butler, he glanced at the table but didn't sit down.

"I need to talk to you."

Elena's heart skipped. Her fingers were already touching the envelope.

"Good." She forced a smile. "There's something I need to tell you too."

"Listen to me first."

Damian removed a document from his briefcase and set it in front of her.

The words on the first page stopped Elena's hand in midair.

Draft Divorce Agreement.

She stared at the title as every sound around her faded.

"You want a divorce?"

"Yes." Damian held her gaze. "Vanessa is back."

The last of Elena's hope died.

Vanessa Sinclair.

The woman Damian had truly loved before their marriage. The only reason never written into their contract, yet always there.

"Our original agreement still has a year left," Damian continued. "Since I'm ending it early, the compensation will be higher than we initially agreed. The apartment, cash settlement, and trust are all listed in the document. My lawyer will explain everything to you tomorrow."

His voice remained calm and precise.

He had already arranged her life after she left him.

Just as he had arranged it when he pulled her out of desperation two years ago.

The only difference was that back then, he had arranged for her to stay.

This time, he was arranging for her to leave.

Elena lowered her eyes to the agreement.

The words she had prepared lodged in her throat. Every one of them suddenly felt humiliating.

If she showed him the report now, would he stay?

Perhaps he would.

But it would be out of responsibility.

Not because he had chosen her.

"Elena?" Damian frowned. "You look pale."

He reached for her forehead.

The gesture was so familiar that her eyes stung. Elena turned her face away and closed her hand around the white envelope.

"I'm fine."

Damian studied her for two seconds. He clearly didn't believe her, but he didn't press. He only pushed the agreement closer.

"Read it first. If you disagree with any of the terms, speak to my lawyer."

He wasn't asking whether she wanted the divorce.

He had already decided.

Elena nodded slowly. "All right."

Damian's phone lit up.

Vanessa's name appeared on the screen.

He picked it up and headed toward his study without a moment's hesitation.

Only after the door closed did Elena open the envelope she had crushed in her hand.

The pregnancy report lay silently inside.