Chapter 1
Three months after I broke up with Brandon, he bumped into me on a foreign street, just as I was vomiting.
Right there in the middle of the crowd, he stopped and booked me in for a procedure that afternoon, like it was no big deal.
He said, "Amy, I can take care of everything else for you. But this kid? Just like you, not worth my time. I don't want it."
Everyone in Haburg knew I was all ambition, no skills. Just a second-rate wannabe like me, trying to reel in Brandon Malone, someone totally out of my league.
When Brandon opened the car door for me, I laid a hand on my little belly and looked him right in the eye, flashing a teasing smile.
"You sure it's yours?" I shot back, challenge in my voice.
*****
Brandon leaned against the car door, cigarette dangling from his lips.
His smoldering eyes scanned me from head to toe, clearly noticing how much fuller I'd gotten since three months ago. He smirked.
"You, really?" he sneered.
Brandon obviously thought there was no way I'd ever hook up with someone else. After all, I had loved him so much.
Three months ago, I proposed to Brandon.
The cheap ring I picked out for him couldn't even compare to the fancy watch he'd grab without thinking.
The place I chose was a manor he never even bothered to look at.
Even the sincerity I offered with both hands meant nothing in Brandon's eyes.
Brandon smirked at me, giving me that smug, condescending look.
He said, "Amy, plenty of people have tried to get with me. But you? You're the first to be this bold about it."
Brandon disappeared so fast, his black trench coat seemed to leave a shadow trailing behind, cold and sharp.
His friends looked me over like I was some rare creature they'd never seen before.
"Amy, you'd better grab your things and run while you still can," one of them taunted.
"Trust me, you couldn't survive Brandon's wrath."
When everyone was gone, I quietly wiped the tears from my eyes.
I boarded a flight overseas.
I knew Brandon would never say yes.
To him, I was no better than my mom, a woman who spent her whole life hustling, hoping to claw her way into the upper circle.
Second-rate, through and through.
But proposing to him wasn't about wanting to spend my life with him. It was just a reason, a way to escape him completely.
The chilly wind swirled with cigarette smoke, drifting right into my face.
I paused, uncertainty flickering in my eyes, and glanced up at Brandon.
"Put it out, will you? It's not good for the baby," I said.
For a moment, a flicker of annoyance crossed Brandon's chiseled features.
He absolutely hated it when anyone tried to boss him around.
His eyes grew colder, brimming with disdain as he looked at me.
Brandon scoffed. "Amy, you really care that much about the kid in your belly?"
I wrapped my sweater tightly around myself and smiled softly.
"That's because I'm totally crazy about my husband," I said, the warmth clear in my voice. "Because I really, really love my husband. So I really can't wait to meet this baby."
For a split second, Brandon's face darkened.
"Amy, you're disgusting," he snapped.
He thought I was talking about him. He must be out of his mind.
I knew exactly why Brandon was so repulsed by me.
After our parents got together, Brandon and I ended up in a blended family.
My mom had hooked up with his dad.
She brought me along to their place and tore apart what had once been a happy home.
Technically, he was my stepbrother. But that same stepbrother and I had been entangled, on and off, for years.
Anyone in Haburg who hung out with Brandon knew I was the one who'd stayed the longest, his most enduring sweetheart.
Brandon never hid how much he hated me, using the fact that we were step-siblings, lovers, the whole messed-up situation, just to punish me.
He did it all to show how much he resented his new stepmom, who just happened to be my real mom.
Brandon practically shoved me into his black Porsche.
Even the stuff inside hadn't changed a bit.
I could still remember how he'd always recline the seat.
He'd lift my ankles, force me to stare out the window, and cover my mouth so I couldn't make a sound.
That was just how things went, ever since the day I became his stepsister.
The car's headlights stayed off, shadows wrapping his face and making his expression even colder.
"You say the kid isn't mine? Care to explain that?" Brandon asked.
He added, "Three months ago, you were down on one knee telling me you loved me to death. Now look at you. How did your belly end up with somebody else's kid?"
In Brandon's book, there were only two ways to look at it.
Either I'd just been pretending every time I said I loved him, or the kid growing inside me was his, no doubt about it.
Based on everything Brandon thought he knew about me, he figured 99.99% that the kid was his.
Brandon never trusted me, not even once.
He fired up the engine, and the luxury ride peeled out, a black shadow disappearing down the street.
Brandon delivered his verdict, cold as ice. "This baby gotta go."
He continued, "Amy, you're already like a stray dog that everyone in Haburg despises. You really want this kid ending up as pathetic as you?"
Brandon really knew how to hit where it hurt.
I replied coolly, "But you know why everybody in Haburg treats me like some stray, just itching to kick me around? It's all thanks to you."
"On my eighteenth birthday, my big gift from you was a glass of spiked wine. You made me lose all dignity before everyone, forced to cling to you."
"When I turned twenty, you dragged me through the mud at the company's welcome party. You made sure everyone believed I only scored that internship by getting into your bed."
Now, I caught a glimpse of the message he'd just sent to his boys' group chat.
[Amy's got a baby bump, and she's still trying to say it's not mine. Who's gonna buy that?]
None of them would ever believe me. To them, I'm just that desperate girl.
Cheap, clingy, willing to toss away my pride for a shot at moving up.
Brandon didn't even bother to respond. The car sped faster and faster.
After Brandon sped us through another intersection, my phone suddenly started going off.
I picked it up and glanced at Brandon.
"My husband's calling me. Please. He doesn't know I'm with you." I whispered.
His hands froze on the steering wheel.