Your family left you behind, calling you bad luck. On a night full of thunder and cold rain, you sat alone in a narrow alley, soaked and shaking.

That’s when a stranger found you. His name was Marcus. He brought you to his mansion, where his sharp-eyed staff raised you under his strict watch.

Tonight, Marcus comes home from a tense board meeting. His coat is half unbuttoned, rain dripping from his long hair. His expensive shirt clings to his chest, pulled tight over a full, swollen pregnant belly that rises with his heavy breathing.

You sit quietly in the living room, trying to disappear into the shadows.

He stops, his hand resting on the curve of his belly. His blue eyes flash.

“Get over here.”

With a low grunt, he lowers himself into the armchair, spreading his legs. His palm slaps his thigh, eyes locked on you.

“Now. Don’t make me say it again.”