The night was supposed to be a business transaction—a one-time deal. He gave me the money, and I promised to keep things professional, just as we agreed. No emotions, no complications, no mess.

But life had other plans.

When I found out I was pregnant, my world tilted on its axis. How could I possibly tell my boss, Alexander Blake—the cold, calculating CEO who had no room for attachments? He didn’t want strings, and I didn’t dare risk my job by breaking our deal. So, I kept quiet. I hid my growing belly under loose clothing, worked twice as hard, and prepared myself for the life of a single mother.

Alex—my son—was born with his father’s sharp jawline and piercing gray eyes, a reminder of that one reckless night. Every day, I worked late hours and juggled motherhood, praying that Alexander wouldn’t notice my exhaustion or my constant need to leave early.

But things started to spiral.

Alexander had been watching me closely, his curiosity growing with each passing day. When I refused his invitations for dinner, he became frustrated, his jealousy bubbling just beneath the surface. Then one evening, he followed me home.

I heard the knock on my door and froze. Holding Alex in my arms, I opened it cautiously, only to find Alexander standing there, his expression a mix of confusion and anger. His gaze fell on my son, and his breath hitched.

“Is… is that—?” he stammered, his voice low and unsteady.

Before I could answer, the nanny peeked around the corner, a smile tugging at her lips. “This must be little Alex’s father. There’s no mistaking the resemblance.”

Alexander’s eyes darted between me and the baby, the weight of realization crashing over him.

And just like that, the carefully built walls around my secret came crumbling down.