Chapter 2

Those two little lines sent the whole Blackwood family into a total frenzy.

Within minutes, I was escorted to the sofa like I was the Queen of England. They propped my feet up on three designer pillows and draped a custom blanket over my legs.

The coffee table was suddenly covered in exotic fruits flown in from around the globe.

Margaret sat beside me, clutching my hands, her eyes swimming with tears. "Harper, my dear girl. You are a blessing upon this family."

I was no longer a baby-making machine to her. Now, she looked at me like I was a miracle worker. Actually, it was like pure worship.

I felt a little awkward and forced a smile. "Margaret, please don't get too excited. It's still early."

"How can I not be excited?" she exclaimed, slapping her thigh. "I've dreamed of this day. The Blackwood men are notorious for being 'one and done' every generation. It's like pulling teeth to get an heir around here.

"When Lucian was born, his grandfather cried for three days straight."

She wiped away another tear. "Harper, from this day forward, you are the hero of this family. Whatever you want, just say the word."

And with that, she pulled a black credit card from her pocket and pressed it into my palm. "No limit. Spend whatever you want."

I gripped the card, my palms sweating.

This was what it felt like to be "Queen for a Day" just because I was pregnant.

Lucian arrived later that afternoon. He looked winded, as if he had run all the way from his office. He stopped dead in the living room, taking in the scene where I was sitting in the middle of the sofa like a pampered queen.

Margaret turned on him the second she saw him, her eyebrows shooting up. "You finally show up. Look at your wife. She's carrying our heir, and you're out there playing CEO all day."

Lucian frowned, his gaze shifting to me. It was a calculating, searching look. I simply waved the black card at him and gave him a "mission accomplished" smirk.

His frown deepened.

Margaret pushed him toward the sofa and forced him to sit next to me. "From now on, the company comes second. Your primary job is taking care of Harper. If she loses so much as a single hair, you'll answer to me."

Lucian looked thoroughly put out, but faced with his mother's ferocious glare, he wisely said nothing.

That night, as I lay in bed, my phone buzzed with a bank notification.

Ten million dollars landed in my bank account at 6:30 sharp.

Just like that, Margaret wired over a literal fortune without a second thought.

I hugged my phone and rolled around on the silk sheets.

I was having this baby. Hell, I would birth a whole soccer team if the bonus kept up like this.

*****

From the moment the Blackwood family found out I was pregnant, I went from "nobody" to "royalty" overnight.

I used to mind my manners around Margaret. Now, I was treated like a national treasure. The whole family coddled me like I was made of glass.

Margaret had essentially become my personal bodyguard and manager.

If I slept ten minutes past my alarm, she would have a doctor on the phone asking if I was "dehydrated."

If I reached for a spicy pickle during dinner, she would have the kitchen remove it, worried about heartburn.

If I walked slightly too fast, she would sprint from across the room to steady me, mumbling about "protecting the precious baby."

Even Lucian, my husband in name only, was under strict orders.

"Until that baby is born, you are not to lay a finger on her," Margaret had commanded. "What if you stress her out? What if you hurt my grandchild?"

And just like that, Lucian was banished to the guest wing.

We had barely talked as it was, but now we grew even more distant. If we happened to bump into each other in the hall, he looked at me with a complex expression. It was almost as if he pitied me.

He probably thought his mother was driving me insane.

Honestly, I didn't mind. Being waited on hand and foot while getting paid obscene amounts of money was a pretty sweet gig.

The only real downside was the morning sickness. It was brutal. I couldn't keep anything down, and I felt like a wilted flower.

Margaret was in a panic, hiring world-class chefs to rotate through our kitchen. They made everything. But the smell of "gourmet" food made me want to gag.

One night, starving and unable to sleep, I snuck down to the kitchen. I dug through the back of a hidden pantry shelf and pulled out a crinkled bag of extra-spicy Flamin' Hot Cheetos.

I had stashed them in my luggage before moving in, fearing I wouldn't survive the "fine dining" lifestyle.

I ripped the bag open. That familiar, artificial, spicy scent hit my nose. I took a deep breath. It felt so damn good.

I huddled in a corner of the kitchen, devouring them like a stray cat. I was practically in tears of joy. Then, the lights flickered on.

Lucian was standing in the doorway in silk pajamas, looking absolutely bewildered. Meanwhile, I had a Cheeto stuck in my mouth and red stains all over my face. I looked like a total disaster.

This was mortifying.

I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

Time froze for three seconds. Lucian's lip twitched, and the bewilderment in his eyes curdled into pure judgment.

"What are you eating?" he asked in shock.

I shoved the rest of the Cheetos into my mouth, swallowed hard, and wiped my face in a pathetic attempt to hide the evidence.

"Nothing. Just a snack. I was hungry," I replied, lying with a straight face.

Speechless, Lucian stared at the bag of Cheetos in my hand. The packaging practically glowed under the lights, looking loud and out of place. He had probably never seen "junk food" in his life.

"Are the chefs my mother hired not enough for you?" he asked.

"It's not that," I sighed, deciding to be honest. "I can't stomach the fancy stuff. I just need something with actual flavor."

His expression became even more unreadable. He clearly couldn't wrap his head around why a woman would choose cheap Cheetos over a Michelin-star meal in the middle of the night.

I was bracing myself for a lecture on prenatal health, just like the one his mother gave me. Instead, he just stared at me for a moment and walked over to the fridge to pull out a bottle of milk.

"For the spice," he said flatly, handing it to me.

I blinked, taking the bottle. "Thanks."

"If you're going to eat that stuff, don't hide like a thief," he muttered before turning and walking away.

As I watched him walk away, I glanced at the milk. Something felt off in a good way. The cold CEO might actually have a human side.