The Day His Secretary Broke His Heir - Chapter 1: Chapter 1

My stomach had been unsettled for weeks. Every meal ended the same way - rushing to the bathroom. Finally, I dragged myself to the clinic, bracing for bad news.
The doctor's words made my hands tremble. "Congratulations, Mrs. Blackwood. You're expecting."
Tears spilled down my cheeks. After seven years of marriage, our miracle had arrived.
Ethan always said, "When the time's right, our baby will come." His calm voice echoed in my memory as I stared at the ultrasound photo.
"You're three months along," the doctor continued. "Everything looks perfect, but avoid any physical strain."
three months.
No wonder my jeans stopped fitting. With my irregular cycles and recent cravings, I'd blamed stress and midnight snacks.
I practically floated home, immediately preparing Ethan's favorite dishes. This news deserved to be delivered in person.
The Blackwood Enterprises lobby gleamed under crystal chandeliers. I adjusted the silk scarf around my neck, lunchbox warm in my hands.
Just as I reached for Ethan's office door, sharp heels clicked behind me.
"Stop right there."
The woman's voice could frost glass. She blocked my path, designer perfume overwhelming the hallway.
I held up the meal. "I'm bringing lunch to Mr. Blackwood."
Her manicured fingers snatched the container. "The catering staff uses the service elevator."
"I'm not-"
"Victoria Sterling." She jabbed a French-tipped nail at her platinum nameplate. "Chief of Staff. And you are?"
Before I could answer, her eyes raked over my simple dress. "Another gold-digging secretary? How original."
The lunchbox crashed to the floor. Hot broth splattered my ankles as she yanked me into a conference room.
The slap came without warning. My cheek exploded in pain as I stumbled against the table.
"Pathetic." Victoria's stiletto connected with my ribs. "You think homemade meals impress billionaires?"
I curled around my stomach, shielding our child as she upended the remaining food over me. Greasy chicken slid down my hair, oil stinging my eyes.
"Disgusting." She wiped her hands on a monogrammed handkerchief. "Ethan Blackwood marries heiresses, not kitchen help."
Choking on oil and tears, I barely heard the knock.
"Victoria? Why is this door locked?"
Ethan's voice.
Her smile turned venomous. "Run along, little mouse. Unless you want him to see you like this?"
The door handle turned.