Chapter 2
Chelsea's eyes lingered on my stomach, and she gave me a creepy, unsettling smile.
"No," I blurted out, frantically shaking my head.
"It's a rumor. How could I possibly be pregnant?" I added.
As I spoke, I shifted to the side, worried she'd suddenly fling her cup at me.
Chelsea seemed to read my mind and gracefully set her cup down.
Then she pulled a medical report out of her bag.
When I saw my name on the report, my face turned ashen.
She was clearly ready for this. After decades as a wealthy matriarch, she was sharp.
All those drama series I had binged? Totally useless against her.
I said, "I can leave Stuart.
"I promise I'll never show up in front of you again."
I pleaded, hoping she'd suddenly show some mercy and spare my child.
"You can't leave." Chelsea seemed stunned for a second, her voice rising slightly.
Realizing she had let her guard down, she faked a cough and quickly straightened up, regaining her composure.
Chelsea said, "You're the first one who has stayed by Stuart's side for so long.
"I know he doesn't want to marry you, and I know you're heartbroken."
Chelsea paused. For a moment, I caught a hint of compassion in her eyes.
She continued, "But your kid needs a father.
"Stuart will forget about her eventually.
"Can you wait for him a little longer?"
Looking at her, with that earnest look in her eyes, I suddenly felt dazed.
Chelsea gave me the impression that she knew a lot, yet was also clueless about many things.
The only reason I got to be Stuart's kept woman was that I looked a lot like his first love, the girl who left for overseas.
I was well aware of that.
Stuart would never marry me, and I had known that from the very beginning.
But here was the thing about Stuart. He had a low sperm count.
Was I really the only one who knew about this?
Otherwise, why was Chelsea so sure the child I carried was a Hatcher?
Even Stuart thought it couldn't possibly be his.
Anyway, at least the baby was safe.
After that, Chelsea kept talking to me, saying all sorts of things.
Most of it was her trying to reassure me.
She was trying to convince me not to leave.
Chelsea even said she'd give me 15 million dollars as long as I had the baby.
She promised my kid would only ever call me "Mom."
Obviously, my kid would only ever have me as their mom.
But I didn't say anything. I went along with it, agreeing to whatever she said.
After a long time, I finally saw Chelsea off.
I glanced at the time. It was already nine p.m.
I figured I'd take a bath, grab a late-night snack, and then crash.
Half an hour later, I stepped out of the bathroom, humming to myself.
But I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw someone sitting on my bed.
I took a deep breath, patting my chest, trying to keep my heart from leaping out.
Scaring someone could give them a heart attack.
Did Stuart have no clue?
"What did you say to my mom?" Stuart asked.
Under the dim light, Stuart's sharp features looked even more shadowy and intimidating.
I cleared my throat nervously, not understanding why Stuart, absent for half a month, suddenly returned.
Was it because of Chelsea?
"I-I didn't say anything," I stammered.
Stuart let out a sneer and stood up from the bed.
His tall frame loomed over me, making the room feel even smaller.
"Nothing? Then how is she so sure the baby in your belly is her grandchild?" he retorted.
His gaze suddenly dropped to my belly.
Instinctively, I took a step back, my hand protectively covering my stomach.
"What, afraid I'll kill him?" Stuart sneered, bending down, his hazel eyes locking onto mine.
That cold, empty smile sent chills down my spine.
"No," I said, forcing myself to hold his gaze. "You wouldn't hurt him."
Stuart suddenly broke into a chilling laugh.
He said, "Of course I'm not going to kill him right now.
"After all, I still don't know which bastard had the guts to get my woman pregnant."
Stuart shot me a deep, piercing look, his tone suddenly turning icy.
"Once he's no longer useful, I've got a hundred ways to erase him from existence," he said.
Hearing that, I was both terrified and pissed off.
I had heard of sons killing fathers. But a father wanting to kill his son? This was my first time.
What an eye-opener.
"Have you ever thought that maybe this baby is actually yours?" I asked, testing the waters.
If I saw even the slightest hint that he wanted this child, I'd tell him in a heartbeat.
This was our child.
Stuart said, "Eloise."