My Undercover Lover’s Secret Seed - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading My Undercover Lover’s Secret Seed, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of My Undercover Lover’s Secret Seed.
I had to make a choice—and fast. This baby was my ticket to security. Keeping Lucas in the picture was too dangerous.
Even after I shut the door behind me, my palms stayed slick with sweat. I slumped against it, gasping for air. If I'd stopped to really think, maybe I would've noticed the red flags in his behavior.
But I was too exhausted, too scattered, to care.
After that night, he vanished.
Days later, curiosity got the better of me. I asked the property manager about him. When I found out he hadn't been around, a sharp pang of loneliness hit me.
Then Sunday came, and my husband walked through the door.
That evening, after dinner, his hands were all over me—sliding under my skirt, fingers brushing the lace of my underwear.
I caught his wrist just in time.
"Honey, what's the matter?" he breathed, hovering above me.
Terrified he'd hurt the baby, I shoved him onto the mattress and curled into his chest instead.
"I'm pregnant," I whispered, cheeks burning. "We have to be gentle."
His reaction knocked the air out of me. A full minute of dead silence. Then—
He sat up like a bolt of lightning.
I blinked, bewildered, as he grabbed his clothes.
"Honey…?"
"Whose kid is it?" His voice was ice.
My stomach lurched. I forced a shaky laugh. "What? It's yours. Don't you remember that night we—"
"Really?" He snatched a cigarette from the nightstand, lighting it with a sharp flick. Smoke curled between us, masking his face.
A low, humorless laugh cut through the haze.
"What's that supposed to mean?" My skin prickled with dread. I yanked my robe tighter.
"I had a vasectomy, Emily." My name dripped from his lips like poison.
"So, who's the father?"
My blood turned to frost. My whole body shook.
"Why?"
Why the vasectomy? Why tell me now?
He stood, his stare glacial.
"Get rid of it, and we'll forget this ever happened."
"Keep it, and you know exactly what I'll do."
The threat hung in the air, his eyes black with fury. The door crashed shut behind him, the sound like a gunshot.
Alone, I crumpled onto the bed, hollow.
Time lost meaning. At some point, the mattress dipped. A hard body pressed against me, hot breath searing my ear. A rough palm flattened over my stomach.
I thrashed away, shrieking, "Get out!"
But his fingers dug in. "I'm sorry, Emily…"
The room tilted—then everything went black.
Even after I shut the door behind me, my palms stayed slick with sweat. I slumped against it, gasping for air. If I'd stopped to really think, maybe I would've noticed the red flags in his behavior.
But I was too exhausted, too scattered, to care.
After that night, he vanished.
Days later, curiosity got the better of me. I asked the property manager about him. When I found out he hadn't been around, a sharp pang of loneliness hit me.
Then Sunday came, and my husband walked through the door.
That evening, after dinner, his hands were all over me—sliding under my skirt, fingers brushing the lace of my underwear.
I caught his wrist just in time.
"Honey, what's the matter?" he breathed, hovering above me.
Terrified he'd hurt the baby, I shoved him onto the mattress and curled into his chest instead.
"I'm pregnant," I whispered, cheeks burning. "We have to be gentle."
His reaction knocked the air out of me. A full minute of dead silence. Then—
He sat up like a bolt of lightning.
I blinked, bewildered, as he grabbed his clothes.
"Honey…?"
"Whose kid is it?" His voice was ice.
My stomach lurched. I forced a shaky laugh. "What? It's yours. Don't you remember that night we—"
"Really?" He snatched a cigarette from the nightstand, lighting it with a sharp flick. Smoke curled between us, masking his face.
A low, humorless laugh cut through the haze.
"What's that supposed to mean?" My skin prickled with dread. I yanked my robe tighter.
"I had a vasectomy, Emily." My name dripped from his lips like poison.
"So, who's the father?"
My blood turned to frost. My whole body shook.
"Why?"
Why the vasectomy? Why tell me now?
He stood, his stare glacial.
"Get rid of it, and we'll forget this ever happened."
"Keep it, and you know exactly what I'll do."
The threat hung in the air, his eyes black with fury. The door crashed shut behind him, the sound like a gunshot.
Alone, I crumpled onto the bed, hollow.
Time lost meaning. At some point, the mattress dipped. A hard body pressed against me, hot breath searing my ear. A rough palm flattened over my stomach.
I thrashed away, shrieking, "Get out!"
But his fingers dug in. "I'm sorry, Emily…"
The room tilted—then everything went black.
End of My Undercover Lover’s Secret Seed Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to My Undercover Lover’s Secret Seed book page.