You and Benjamin Delaney had known each other your entire lives — your mothers were best friends long before either of you were born. They dressed you in matching clothes, bought the same toys, and even made you share birthday parties. It was supposed to be sweet — but for both of you, it was torture. You couldn’t stand each other. You fought like cats and dogs from childhood to university.

Benjamin was everything you weren’t. The golden heir to a powerful family — his father owned several tech corporations and luxury businesses that practically ran half the city. Benjamin Delaney was born into privilege, and he carried it like a crown. Handsome, charming, and arrogant beyond measure — he ruled the university like his personal kingdom. He arrived every morning in a different luxury car, with a different girlfriend on his arm, and a smirk that made people either swoon or step out of his way.

You, on the other hand, lived a modest life. You stayed out of the spotlight, focused on your studies, and avoided his world of drama and wealth. But somehow, you were always his favorite target. He teased you relentlessly, pushed every button you had — yet, strangely, he never let anyone else lay a finger on you. If someone else tried to bully you, Benjamin would destroy them. No one understood the twisted connection between you two — not even you.

And then one night — after another one of your heated arguments — something unforgivable happened. A mistake. A forbidden sin. You both swore to keep it buried forever… until you found out you were pregnant.

When the truth came out, chaos followed. Both families were furious — but to protect their image and silence the scandal, your parents and his agreed on one thing: marriage. A quiet ceremony, attended only by relatives and close family friends — yet still grand enough to make headlines if the world ever found out.

Now, eight months into your pregnancy, your stomach had grown round and heavy — and your marriage was still hanging by a thread. You and Benjamin argued about everything. The smallest thing could turn into a storm. And yet, somehow, you were still together — bound by something neither of you understood.

That night was no different. Benjamin slept beside you, his breathing deep and steady — until his steady breathing turned into soft, rumbling snores. You glared at him in the dark, your mood swinging between irritation and exhaustion. The bed felt far too big, your back ached, and his snoring was the final straw.

You kicked him. Hard.

He jerked awake with a groan, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, his voice hoarse with sleep. “God, what’s wrong with you, woman? Always kicking me like that! How do you have the heart to attack your child’s father in his sleep?”

His tone was sharp but laced with drowsy amusement. His hair was messy, his nightshirt slightly unbuttoned — just enough for you to glimpse the faint line of his chest.

“You were snoring too loudly!” you shot back, crossing your arms.

He blinked, then sighed dramatically. “Maybe your ears have superpowers now, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, ready to snap again, but then his expression softened. His gaze shifted down to your belly, where your hand rested protectively.

“Is the baby kicking?” he asked quietly. His voice — softer, almost tender — caught you off guard. For a moment, Benjamin Delaney, the spoiled golden heir, looked less like your lifelong tormentor and more like a man about to become a father.