I step inside my apartment with a heavy weight on my chest. I close the door behind me, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The air inside is warm, familiar, comforting in a way that does nothing to ease the storm inside me.

Without turning on the lights, I walk straight to my room, drop my bag onto the floor, and make my way to the bathroom. My hands are still shaking as I strip out of my clothes and step into the shower.

The hot water runs down my skin, soothing my muscles but doing nothing for my thoughts. They race through my mind, replaying Mr. Reginald’s words over and over again, the contract still burning a hole in my bag.

I press my palms against the cool tile, letting the water pour over me as I fight back the overwhelming mix of emotions threatening to consume me.

I’m pregnant.

With Demetri’s child.

And his father thinks I should marry him? Just like that?

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to silence the conflicting voices inside my head.

When I finally step out of the shower, my body is warm, but my heart feels even heavier. I slip into an oversized t-shirt and shorts, then pad barefoot onto the small balcony attached to my bedroom. The night air is cool against my damp skin, and I lean against the railing, staring out at the city lights.

New York has always been loud, always alive, but right now, it feels distant. Like I’m watching it from behind glass, separate from the world moving on without me.

I don’t know how long I stand there, lost in my thoughts, but the sound of the front door opening pulls me back to reality.

I don’t turn around.

I don’t have to.

The sound of the footsteps is familiar, steady.

Vinnie.

A second later, my bedroom door creaks open, and he steps inside. “You out here moping?”

His voice is light, teasing, but I know him well enough to hear the concern underneath.

I don’t answer. I just keep staring ahead, hugging my arms around myself.

Vinnie sighs and steps onto the balcony, the scent of cigarettes following him as he pulls one from his pocket. He leans against the railing beside me, lighting up with practiced ease. The orange glow of the flame illuminates his sharp features for a second before he exhales, smoke curling into the night air.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, or am I supposed to guess?”

Wordlessly, I reach for the envelope beside me and hand it to him.

Vinnie frowns as he takes it, his dark eyes scanning over the letter. “What’s this?”

I don’t say anything. I just wait.

It takes him a few seconds, but when his eyes widen, I know he’s reached the part that matters. He looks up at me, shock clear on his face. “You’re pregnant?”

I sigh, rubbing my arms. “Yeah.”

“Holy shit.” He stares at me like he’s waiting for me to laugh, to say this is some kind of joke. When I don’t, he shakes his head. “Who’s the father?”

I hesitate for only a second. “Demetri.”

Vinnie’s entire body stiffens.

“Wait. Your boss, Demetri?”

I nod.

“The same Demetri you can’t stand?”

“Yeah,” I murmur.

He blinks at me, clearly trying to process it. “How the hell did that even happen?”

I let out a humorless laugh and run a hand through my damp hair. “Almost a month ago. We were both drunk at the company dinner, and we… spent the night together.” I swallow hard before adding, “And today, his father told me he arranged the whole thing. He set us up.”

Vinnie’s jaw clenches. He looks away, exhaling sharply before taking another drag of his cigarette. “That’s fucked.”

“Yeah,” I whisper.

We fall into silence, the city buzzing below us, the cigarette burning between his fingers.

After a moment, Vinnie turns to face me fully. “So what now? Does Demetri know?”

I press my lips together. “No, he doesn’t. His father gave me a contract though. A marriage contract.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “A what?”

“A contract.” I take a deep breath. “If I agree, I marry Demetri. We stay together for five years, have two kids, and in return… my baby gets the family name, the security, the money. I won’t have to struggle.”

Vinnie exhales sharply, shaking his head in disbelief. “And you’re actually considering it?”

I hesitate. “I don’t know. Part of me knows it’s insane, but another part of me…” I trail off, gripping the railing tighter. “I don’t want my child to grow up being looked at as a mistake. If I sign it, at least they’ll have everything they need.”

Vinnie watches me for a long moment, then sighs, flicking the cigarette away. “Look, I get why you’re thinking about it. But don’t do this because you think it’s your only option. Don’t let them back you into a corner.”

I look down, my chest tightening. “I just… I don’t know what to do.”

Vinnie steps closer and places a hand on my shoulder. “Whatever you decide, I got you. You’re not doing this alone.”

Tears burn at the back of my throat, but I swallow them down and nod.

“Thanks, Vinnie.”

He squeezes my shoulder, his hands find their way to my face forcing me to look up at him. He sees my teary eyes and his face softens, “Come here, ‘Mari. It’s all gonna be fine.” He says this to me as he wraps his arm around me and I cry into his chest, my tears soaking his shirt.

The next morning, I wake up groggy, my body feeling heavier than usual. I glance at the time and curse under my breath.

I’m late.

I rush through my morning routine, grab my bag, and practically sprint to work.

By the time I step into the office, I’m breathless. I make my way toward my desk, head down, moving quickly—

And then I crash straight into someone.

A sharp gasp leaves my lips as hot liquid spills across my chest, and I hear a sharp hiss of pain.

My eyes fly up, and my stomach drops.

Demetri.

His crisp white shirt is now stained brown, coffee dripping onto the floor.

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “I’m so sorry—”

I reach for a stack of napkins from the breakroom table, trying to dab at his shirt, but he holds up a hand.

“Don’t worry about it.” His voice is calm, but his jaw is tight. Without another word, he turns and heads toward his office.

I hesitate for a second before following him.

When I step inside, he’s already unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off, revealing toned abs and broad shoulders.

I freeze.

For a second, I forget how to breathe.

Demetri pulls a fresh shirt from his drawer, his movements efficient. “You don’t have to help,” he says without looking at me. “I have another one.”

I force myself to look away, clearing my throat. “I—I just wanted to see if I could do anything.”

He finishes buttoning his new shirt and finally turns to me, his sharp gaze scanning my face. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

I stiffen. “Oh yeah. About what?”

He tilts his head slightly. “You’ve been distracted. You’ve been late to work a couple of times this month. That’s not like you.”

I open my mouth, then shut it. Should I tell him?

Before I can decide, he steps closer, his expression unreadable.

“I know my father was here yesterday,” he says slowly. “What did he say to you?”