His City-Wide Hunt for His Pregnant Runaway Wife

The day my biological parents, the titans of industry who had lost me at birth, finally found me, I was already pregnant.

And I had absolutely no idea who the father of the child in my belly was.

They were instantly consumed by a furious shame, declaring that the bastard child had to be aborted. The Dawson family name would not be tarnished by such a scandal.

Hearing this, a wild, ecstatic joy surged through me.

So my family was that powerful.

Powerful enough to casually dismiss the bloodline of the undisputed king of New York's elite, Alexander Sterling himself.

This was this was perfect.

01

"Monica, hurry and get your sister a glass of water."

"And remember, from now on, you two are sisters. You must be as close as can be, treat each other well, and never let any discord between you become a source of gossip for outsiders."

My mother clutched my hand tightly, her voice heavy with meaning as she instructed the young woman beside methe one who had been raised in my place.

Monica immediately agreed, her face a perfect mask of obedience. My father and brother watched the scene of sisterly affection unfold, nodding in satisfaction.

She padded over to the refrigerator, poured a glass of ice water, and carefully presented it to me.

"Here you are, sister."

The moment my fingertips brushed against the frigid glass, I recoiled as if burned, a flash of embarrassment on my face.

"I'm sorry, Monica I'm pregnant. I can't drink anything cold right now."

The smile on Monica's face froze. Her eyes darted to my stomach with a strange, calculating look.

In an instant, the air in the opulent living room seemed to die.

My mother's hand, which had been holding mine with such warmth, snatched away as if she'd touched a viper.

A hollow sense of loss I couldn't quite name began to spread from the pit of my stomach.

02

"You're married?"

"No."

"Do you have a boyfriend, then?"

"No."

"You only just graduated from high school."

"Yes."

"Then who," my mothers voice was dangerously low, "is the father?"

"I I don't know."

03

After that interrogation, a long, suffocating silence descended.

The atmosphere was so heavy with judgment it made me shrink in on myself. Gone was the warmth and passion theyd shown when they first found me. Now, the gazes of my father, my mother, and my brother were like daggers, pinning me to the velvet couch.

Only Monica seemed at ease, sitting quietly to the side, idly examining her own perfectly manicured nails. I found myself mesmerized by the simple, graceful movement. After a moment, I subconsciously began to mimic her, twisting my own fingers together.

The small act calmed my nerves.

I was so focused, I didn't notice the storm clouds gathering on my family's faces, their expressions turning darker by the second.

Finally, my father broke the silence.

His face was a mask of cold fury. "What in God's name is that supposed to mean?"

04

My mind instantly conjured his image.

Aloof and cool, a man of few words but overwhelming intensity

I only knew his first name was Alexander. I had no idea what his last name was.

Our meeting, as he put it, was a complete accident.

But in my eyes, it was the perfect, clich, romantic encounter between a bartender and a billionaire. I'd been working a shift at a high-end club in Miami when he, exquisitely handsome and dead drunk, had collapsed into my arms. His hands had begun to wander, lighting fires everywhere they touched.

I hadn't been able to resist. I'd dragged him into the nearest private restroom.

I assumed after that one night we would go our separate ways.

But he became a ghost.

He started appearing again and again. On my walk home from work. Inside my tiny apartment. In places I never expected. Each time, he would leave his wild, possessive marks all over my body.

At first, I was lost in the thrill of it.

But soon, I grew afraid. I started trying to avoid him, to hide from him. But he always found me, effortlessly.

He would grip my chin, his eyes burning into mine. "Why do you run?"

"Aren't you tired of me yet?" Id whisper, trembling.

He would just laugh, a cold, humorless sound, before pinning me beneath him once more.

Thankfully, after a couple of weeks, he finally disappeared. I celebrated for days.

I wasn't an idiot. I had seen his Rolls-Royce, his Bentley, and a garage full of supercars whose names I didn't even know. One of them, I think, was a Bugatti. His whole demeanor, the quiet confidence that radiated from him, screamed of a world of wealth and power I couldn't even imagine.

A man like that was never meant for someone like me. I had been lucky enough to enjoy his beautiful body for a short time. I was content with that. He'd never given me a dime, so what else was there to do?

But then I found out I was pregnant.

I'll admit, for a fleeting moment, I considered keeping the baby. Boy or girl, I knew my child would be beautiful. How could it not be, with a father that handsome?

But I quickly crushed that ridiculous fantasy. This child couldn't be born.

The grandmother who had raised me was gone. How could a single mother with no family and a baby in tow ever hope to find a good husband? My life was just beginning; I didn't want to make it a struggle.

But the thought of his commanding presence, his chilling intensity, his raw, primal nature it terrified me. What if he found out I'd gotten rid of his child without his permission? The consequences were unimaginable.

I was trapped.

Finally, mustering every ounce of courage I possessed, I sent him a text.

I'm pregnant.

Since I couldn't decide, I would leave the choice to him. Whatever he decided, the blame wouldn't be on me.

Three days passed. He never replied.

I cursed him a thousand times in my head. What a classic, heartless bastard. In a fit of anger, I blocked his number and all his social media accounts. A part of me regretted it, but it felt good to have the last word.

Just as I was steeling myself to go to the clinic alone, my millionaire parents found me.

They told me I was their long-lost daughter.

It felt like a miracle. I imagined a new life, a better life.

Which brought me to the scene in the living room.

I had never intended to hide the pregnancy. When I saw the Mercedes they picked me up in, the magnificent mansion they called home, I knew the Dawsons had to be wealthy. If Alexander ever came looking for me after the abortion, I figured my new powerful family could protect me.

05

I glanced nervously at my father's stony face, preparing to tell them everything.

"Dad, I only know his first name is Alexander."

She doesn't even know his full name?

The disgust in their eyes was a physical blow. I hung my head in shame, my hands twisting in my lap.

My mother took a deep, steadying breath. "What do you want to do?"

I looked up, my voice urgent. "I want to get rid of it."

The tension in the room instantly evaporated. My father, mother, and brother all let out a collective, relieved sigh.

"But" I began hesitantly.

My brother, Mark, cut in impatiently. "But what?"

"He's he's a very scary person," I stammered. "I'm afraid"

Mark cut me off with a scornful laugh. "You grew up in some backwater town. What kind of 'scary' person could you possibly have met there?"

My mother added proudly, "You've just returned, so you don't understand our family's standing. Here in New York, aside from a few of the old-money dynasties, there's no one we need to fear. As long as we have the Sterlings on our side, we're untouchable."

"Sterling wait, his last name couldn't be" she started, then glanced at me and laughed at her own foolishness. A girl from the sticks and the heir to the Sterling empire? The idea was absurd.

I felt their disdain, but it didn't sting as much as it should have. I was used to it. Growing up, besides my grandmother, no one had ever looked out for me. No one respected me. As long as this new family, for the sake of their reputation, didn't openly abuse me and gave me some spending money, it was already a thousand times better than my old life.

Finally, my father made the decision. "In three days, Mark will take you to the clinic."

"You carry our family's blood. To be found pregnant out of wedlock right after we bring you home if word got out, it would be an utter disgrace."

I nodded. "Can't we go tomorrow?"

My father turned away, refusing to even look at me. "We have a major family event in the coming days. You'll be attending. You'll understand when you get there."

"Okay, Dad."

A little flutter of excitement went through me. Three more days wouldn't make a difference.

06

"Mark, how many cars do we have?" I asked, stroking the sleek lines of the sports car in the driveway, my eyes wide with wonder.

My brother preened under my admiration. "This one's mine. A Porsche 718. Cool, right?"

"Mom doesn't like to drive. Dad has a Maybach, and Monica drives a Porsche Panamera. All together, they're worth a few million."

I put on my most impressed face. "Wow, we're so rich!"

Mark was pleased. "You know, you've been behaving yourself these past couple of days. If it weren't for" His eyes flickered down to my stomach, and his voice went cold. "Look, when Monica gets tired of her car and wants a new one, I'll have her give you her old one. You're my sister, after all. Can't have you embarrassing me when you go out."

My heart leaped. "Thank you, Mark! You're the best!"

But deep down, a seed of unease was planted.

I remembered Alexander's garage. It seemed infinitely more impressive than my entire family's collection combined.

Stop it.

Don't think about that deadbeat.

Once this baby is gone and I've recovered, I just need to be quiet, stay out of the way, and be grateful for the scraps they throw me. It's better than anything I had before.

As for Alexander he was a world away in Miami. What were the chances he'd ever find me here in New York? Even if his family was richer than mine, what could he do from so far away?

07

Three days later.

I was dressed in one of Monica's old gowns, riding in her white Panamera, on our way to the five-star hotel owned by our family.

Monica was breathtaking. A vibrant red couture gown, flawless makeupshe was the center of attention everywhere she went. I, standing beside her, was nothing more than a plain, forgettable shadow.

"Honestly, sister, you shouldn't even be here," she said, her voice a low murmur. "I'm worried you'll get nervous and make a fool of yourself. That would be a huge embarrassment for our family."

"But the news that the Dawsons found their real daughter is already out, so you have to make an appearance."

"Just remember," she instructed, "all you have to do is smile and say as little as possible. The less you say, the fewer mistakes you'll make. Understand?"

I nodded eagerly. "Don't worry, Monica. I'll do exactly as you say."

Monica gave me a small, dismissive smile. She was quite pleased with the situation. She had been preparing all sorts of schemes to deal with me, the so-called 'true heiress,' but it turned out I had done all the work for her. Showing up pregnant by some nameless man had already destroyed my reputation with our parents. She didn't have to lift a finger.

Yesterday, our parents had assured her that I wouldn't see a single penny of the Dawson fortune. They would support me for a few years to save face, then marry me off to a suitable business partner with a modest dowry. My return was actually a benefit to her. There was no need to be cruel.

What was my name again? Oh, right. Nina.

Monica continued to brief me on party etiquette, and I listened intently, trying to memorize every detail.

08

It wasn't until we arrived that I understood the magnitude of the event.

It was the engagement party for the heirs of the two most powerful families in New York. The kind of event that would dominate the society pages for weeks. And it was being held at our hotel. No wonder my father had postponed my trip to the clinic. The entire family had been working around the clock to prepare.

As the car pulled up, I stared at the grand, imposing building and sighed.

Nina, Nina, you really have the worst luck. To be born into all this and still manage to get lost. I told myself. Now, what wasn't yours to begin with, you can't have. Just save up some money, find a nice, normal guy to marry, and build a quiet life. That's your path.

With that thought, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. I consciously lowered my gaze and walked half a step behind Monica.

Seeing this, Monica's red lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Sister, I'll wire you fifty thousand dollars later. After your procedure tomorrow, buy yourself something nice to help you recover."

"I also have a small apartment in the city. You can have it," she added generously. "It can be overwhelming at home. If you need some peace and quiet, you can move in anytime."

A genuine, surprised smile bloomed on my face. "Monica, you're so good to me! It's a deal!"

She seemed even more pleased with my easy compliance.