The CEO's Baby Said No

The day I found out I was pregnant, the woman Ronan Blackwood still worshipedhis Mythcame back to New York.
I didn't need a formal dismissal. I made an appointment at the clinic myself, scheduling the earliest slot for a termination.
I was about to swallow the first pill when a tiny, panicked voice echoed in my head.
[Mom, new plan! Dont do it!]
I froze, the pill suspended between my thumb and forefinger.
[My dad is the pathetic Runner-Up! The heroine never ends up with him, plus he has low motilityIm his one and only shot at a legacy! You have to keep me. Push me out, and Ill put you on the yacht to the billionaires life!]
I stood there for a long moment, the sheer audacity of the internal dialogue battling the reality of my predicament. Then, I turned and tossed the tablets straight into the waste bin.
1
Ive read a truckload of spicy romance novels, so my ability to suspend disbelief is incredibly high. I didnt question The Nuggets pronouncements; I believed him.
I ducked into my car, the excitement bubbling up. Okay, Nugget, I whispered, "So, should I tell your dad Im pregnant now?
[No! He doesn't know he's the Runner-Up. Right now, hes focused on chasing The Myth. If he knows I exist, he'll do anything to prevent my birth!]
I chewed on that. Then what about your grandmother?
Ronan Blackwood was clearly blinded by love, but Mrs. Eleanor Blackwood, the family matriarch, wouldnt be so foolish. She would surely cherish an heir, no matter the vessel.
[Not yet, Mom! Dont tell Grandma either!]
[Grandma hates gold diggers and social climbers. If she sees you as nothing more than a desperate mistress, she might hate-the-whole-situation and not even care about an unborn baby!]
"So, what's my play?"
[You need to get out of Manhattan ASAP. Raise me somewhere safe, and thenwhen I'm bigwe let them know I exist. Dad is destined to be a lifelong bachelor if The Myth won't have him. Grandma will have no choice but to accept her only grandchild!]
"But wouldn't that make you a bastard?"
[Mom, youre overthinking it. My dad's such a hopeless romantiche'll never marry anyone but Gen Laurent. I'll just be a non-marital child. You give him the only heir he can ever have. The Blackwood dynasty will owe you for eighteen generations!]
I got it. The whole situation was suddenly, gloriously, transactional.
"Understood. I'm going back to the penthouse to give your dad my two weeks notice."
2
According to The Nugget, we were trapped in a plot from a best-selling novel.
The heroine was Genevieve Laurentold money, effortless charm. The hero was Leo MaxwellManhattans golden boy.
Ronan Blackwood was the tragic, groveling Runner-Up.
Gen had adored Ronan since childhood, following him around like a shadow. Ronan, in his youthful arrogance, couldn't see her love, treating her only like a little sister before rejecting her clumsy declaration.
Heartbroken, Gen had fled the country, only to return seven years later.
In the span of their separation, Ronan had realized the terrifying truth: he loved her, desperately.
So began his relentless pursuit.
But Gens heart was too bruised, and Leo Maxwells puppy-dog charm and unrelenting attention proved irresistible.
She chose the hero. Ronan, heartbroken but devoted, became her silent, lifelong guardian.
It was the ultimate Runner-Up tragedy. If he wasn't the father of my child, I'd probably be hitting the 'Like' button on his misery.
I returned to the penthouse, and Ronan was already home.
He was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, a plume of smoke curling around him as he contemplated the Manhattan skyline. He looked heavya man burdened.
My usual reflex was to go hug him, but the Runner-Up label stopped me cold. I suppressed the impulse and addressed him formally. Mr. Blackwood.
Ronan snapped out of his reverie. He walked over, stubbed out his cigarette in the crystal tray, and turned to me. His voice was as flat and cold as his gaze.
"There's something I need to discuss with you."
My heart stuttered. Here we go. The dismissal. The severance package talk.
[Mom, don't panic. Totally expected.]
I took a deep breath and gave him the practiced, empty smile. "What is it?"
Ronan sat down, looking up at me. "How long have we been doing this?"
My stomach plummeted. He was easing into the goodbye.
Though Id always known my statushis companion, his keeperafter five years beside a man this extraordinary, it was impossible not to develop a flicker of genuine attachment.
I managed a strained laugh. "Almost five years. Another month and we would have hit the anniversary."
Ronan nodded thoughtfully. "It's been that long, then."
Too long, I thought bitterly. By the standards of men in his circle, he was practically a saint. Five years with one mistress? Most men traded us out every time the seasons changed. I should feel grateful.
After a moment of charged silence, he leaned forward, his voice meaningful.
"Ive been thinking. We cant maintain this kind of relationship forever. So, I was planning to..."
The sharp trill of his phone interrupted him.
Ronan looked down at the screen, and his expression softened instantly. The caller ID read: Gen Laurent. He stood and walked onto the terrace to take the call.
My throat tightened. A wave of familiar, miserable sadness crashed over me.
But then I thought of The Nugget and his billion-dollar legacy. My mood instantly stabilized.
3
Ronan kept his voice low, but his profilewhich Id always found devastatingly attractivewas etched with an unfamiliar, profound tenderness.
Three minutes later, he came back inside.
"Something's come up. I have an emergency. We'll pick this up when I get back."
I nodded, my face a mask of composure. "Of course."
He grabbed his bespoke coat and was gone, the elevator doors sliding shut on his hasty exit.
I had braced myself for this ending, yet the speed of his departure, his urgency to rush to The Myths side, still hurt.
The Nuggets voice cut through my emo moment:
[Mom, stop brooding. You need to get out of here before Dad realizes youre pregnant!]
[He may not be a criminal, but if he decides he doesn't want me, hes rich enough to have you forcibly terminated. Get out!]
A jolt of pure fear shot through me. The Nugget was right. Ronan didn't know he was a secondary character. He was too consumed by Gen Laurent. If I jeopardized that chase, I was finished.
I immediately started packing my essentials, throwing expensive jewelry and documents into a duffel bag, and driving out that very night. I was heading south.
Before I hit the turnpike, I sent Ronan a pre-written "breakup" text.
"Mr. Blackwood, I've left for Charlotte. Thank you for your support over the last five years. I wish you all the best."
He didn't reply. He probably saw no reason to.
I felt a small, familiar twinge of disappointment. Not because he hadn't begged me to stay, but because he hadn't even had the courtesy to send a severance deposit. Though he gives me more than enough, who ever complains about extra cash?
4
I got involved with Ronan for two very simple reasons: I was terrified of being poor, and he was breathtakingly handsome. I wasin a wordgreedy and shallow.
I was also pragmatic. Id always been preparing for this exit, so I hadnt wasted his money.
Three years ago, Id bought a beautifully furnished condo in downtown Charlotte, NC. Two years ago, I had it completely set up.
After calling a cleaning crew, I moved in.
To sever all ties, I bought a new phone and a new number.
I knew Ronan Blackwood could track me down easily if he wanted to. But he was busy fighting the hero for the heroine. He probably wouldn't spare a second thought for his former mistress.
Even though The Nugget assured me he would be healthy, I kept up with all my prenatal appointments.
The day I went in for the anatomy scan, I was preparing to hand my forms to the receptionist when I saw Ronan Blackwood stride purposefully toward the Ultrasound Center.
I froze, instantly spinning around, my back pressed against the wall.
[Mom, whats wrong?]
The Nugget always picked up on my emotional spikes.
I whispered, I just saw your dad.
[Dont panic! You have a mask on, and youre wearing that awful North Carolina tourist jacket. He won't recognize you. Just walk away, normally.]
He was right. I was wearing an oversize jacket and a baseball cap, none of which Ronan had ever seen me wear. I collected myself and started to move slowly toward the escalator.
I was almost there when a massive hand clamped down on my arm, yanking me back with startling force.
I stumbled, bracing myself against the cool marble of the wall, my body rigid with sudden terror.
Ronan's tall frame leaned in, enveloping me in his shadow. The sheer proximity was suffocating.
"What's the rush?"
"Did you really think a cheap mask would stop me from recognizing you?"
His tone was mocking, and my stomach dropped. I wanted to cry.
[Mom, stay calm! Do not break character!]
I forced a sickly laugh. I wasnt rushing. I finished my check-up and was heading home.
Ronan looked me up and down, his eyes finally landing on the requisition slip clutched in my hand. His voice was impossible to read. Sick?
I quickly hid the paper behind my back. Minor issues. Just a little hormonal imbalance.
Is that right? Let me see.
He reached for the paper.
Before I could figure out my next move, his assistant rushed up, face grim. "Mr. Blackwood, it's Genevieve. Acute appendicitis. The doctor says they need to operate immediately."
Ronans focus fractured. He bit out, Add my contact back, to me, then turned and followed his assistant away, disappearing into the crowd.
As soon as he was gone, I fled the hospital like a bat out of hell.
On the drive home, I asked The Nugget, "What did he mean, 'Add his contact back'? Is he coming for me?"
[I dont know, Mom. But it sounds likely.]
"So, do I add him or not?"
[You have to! If you don't, he'll start a proper investigation. Then my existence will be exposed immediately!]
"Ugh. Fine."
5
I had deleted Ronans number, but after five years, it was ingrained in my memory.
Once home, I added his number on a secure messaging app.
About an hour later, he accepted the request.
Ronan Blackwood: Send me your address.
I stared at the screen.
"Nugget, what does this mean? Hes definitely coming here, right?"
[Seems so.]
"What if he discovers the pregnancy? What if he already knows? Is it too late to run again?"
[Mom, don't panic. Running won't help. Hell find you eventually.]
"So, I'm just waiting for the guillotine?" The despair was overwhelming. "Nugget, don't worry. I won't let you leave this world alone."
[Mom! I told you, the waiting list for a good re-birth is a hundred years, and even then, I might not make it! We need to fight this!]
"You're right. We'll fight."
[And look, my dad hasn't acted on anything yet. He probably hasn't figured out I exist. Maybe he's just coming for a quick hookup.]
"He's shadowing his first love, the Myth. What could I possibly offer him now?"
[I don't know either! Just deal with it. When he shows up, we play it by ear.]
"Fine." Reluctantly, I typed out the address.
[Mom! Quick! Hide anything suspicious. Pregnancy tests, vitamins, the giant maternity pillow!]
"Right!"
I scrambled, shoving anything that could give away my secret into a storage closet.
Just as I sank onto the sofa to catch my breath, the doorbell rang.
I jumped up, forcing a bright, awkward smile as I opened the door. "Mr. Blackwood. Long time, no see."
Ronan's expression was unreadable, impassive. He gave a curt nod.
"I have business in Charlotte for a few days. I hate the hotels here. I'm borrowing a room."
I hesitated. It was true; Ronan despised anything less than a Presidential Suite, and he was notoriously picky. But I absolutely couldn't have him under my roof.
Ronan's eyes narrowed, his gaze intense. "Is that a problem?"
[Don't refuse! The more you push back, the more hell suspect something. Just say yes!]
I burst into a strained laugh. "A problem? Not at all! Please, Mr. Blackwood, come in!"
I stepped aside. Then I remembered: I had no men's slippers.
"I didn't expect the honor of your visit, Mr. Blackwood. I'm missing a few necessities. Please, have a seat, and Ill run out and grab some toiletries and slippers. Ill be quick."
He didn't object. "Go."
6
When I returned with a bag of travel-size essentials, Ronan wasn't in the living room.
A wave of relief washed over me. Did he leave?
Then, he emerged from the direction of my storage closet.
My heart stopped dead.
I was mentally calculating whether I should just drop to my knees and beg for mercy when Ronan calmly assessed the room. "The place is clean."
I managed a tight smile. "When you're unemployed, you clean every day."
He said nothing else, simply extending his hand toward me. "Give me the bag."
"Oh, right."
I handed him the plastic bag with the slippers and toothbrush. He put on the slippers and walked into the guest bathroom, all with the unhurried ease of a man who owned the place.
Seeing his intention to stay, I went to make the bed in the guest room.
Truthfully, I was disgusted. He was actively chasing the heroine, yet he thought it was acceptable to crash at his former mistress's place? That lack of boundaries was probably why he'd been relegated to the Runner-Up role. Serves him right.
Ronans showers were always efficient. I had just smoothed the duvet when he emerged, a towel wrapped low around his waist.
He leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised.
"I'm sleeping in the guest room?"
My brain, already slow due to the pregnancy, lagged even further. I nodded instinctively. "Yes, of course!"
Where else would you sleep?
Ronan's gaze darkened.
His expression hadn't changed much, but I felt the shift in the airhe was annoyed. I realized why: he still assumed he could sleep with me. The entitlement of it made me even more certain Gen was smart to pick Leo.
While I scrambled for a diplomatic way to refuse him, he asked, his voice low and pointed, "Are you hiding something from me?"
I unconsciously clutched my belly, then quickly released it, forcing an awkward giggle. "No, why would I?"
Ronans face turned stormy. His sharp, intense eyes locked onto mine as he began to close the distance between us.
"You know you're a terrible liar, don't you?"
I backed away until the bed frame stopped me.
He braced his hands on the wall, caging me between his arms. The powerful oppression made it hard to breathe.
"Did you find a new patron already?"
I looked up, stunned by the sheer gall of the accusation.
7
A man who has possessed a woman inevitably develops a ridiculous, irrational sense of ownership over her, even after the relationship has ended.
Ronan was clearly being ruled by that toxic possessiveness.
I was genuinely offended.
I may be a materialist, but I wasn't that easy. No unattractive men. No old men. Definitely no diseased men.
The truth was, while everyone else saw me as his "kept woman," deep down, I'd always viewed him as a spectacularly good-looking gigolo I was paying for with my time.
After sleeping with a specimen like Ronan Blackwood, the average man simply couldn't compete.
I shot him a withering look. "Do you honestly think Im that reckless?"
The coldness in Ronans posture immediately evaporated. He pulled me into his arms, squeezing me tightly. His breathing grew heavy.
"Anya, baby, I want to"
I clamped my hand over his mouth before he could finish that thought.
"No!"
The Nugget was asleep, but what if he woke up? If he heard his dad say anything raunchy, I'd never live it down.
Ronan pulled my hand away, his cold gaze returning. "You are hiding something."
I was already low on wit, and the pregnancy hormones had made me slower. I couldnt think of a plausible excuse. Panic made me flounder.
"I'm not!" I blurted out the first idiotic thing that came to mind. "It's Aunt Flo is visiting!"
Ronan sneered. "Is that so? Let me check."
His hand moved to the waistband of my sweatpants.
I saw red. My fight-or-flight response kicked in, pure, primal terror. I reacted without thinking, swinging my arm and connecting a sharp slap across his face.
The second I did it, I regretted it instantly.
"II'm sorry."
Ronan stared at me, his face an ominous storm cloud. My fear intensified.
I was about to try a pathetic attempt at flirting my way out of it when he simply turned, went into the bathroom, retrieved his clothes, and walked out of the condo, slamming the front door behind him.
The heavy thud of the solid security door closing was the sound of my near-exhausted body slumping onto the sofa in relief.
The crisis was averted, but a familiar emptiness settled in my chest.
8
Ronan was truly furious, and he didn't try to contact me again. I was relieved, but the peace didnt last long.
Three days later, I received an anonymous text.
Anonymous: Ill give you five million dollars to get rid of the child.
I fought down a wave of nausea and replied, pretending ignorance.
Anya: What child?
Anonymous: Your cheap tricks might fool Ronan, but they don't fool me. Mrs. Blackwood despises gold-digging opportunists like you. I suggest you handle the situation immediately, or she will make you regret it.
The message sent a shiver of dread down my spine.
The Nugget woke up, his little voice filled with concern. [Mom, whats going on?]
Distraught, I read him the anonymous threat.
The Nugget was indignant. [Mom, don't listen to that liar! Grandma loves me! She would never hurt me!]
My sluggish, pregnancy-addled brain finally connected the dots.
"Nugget," I said slowly, "Didn't you tell me your grandmother wouldn't allow you to exist right now?"
The question silenced him. He fell into a long, terrifying silence that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
I had trusted him completely, and he had been lying.
Anger, disappointment, and a profound sense of cold betrayal washed over me.
"Why did you lie to me?"

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