Blurred Lines 1: CHASE novel Chapter 2

‘I’m pregnant.’

‘Are you sure it’s mine?’

‘Are you calling me a liar? Babies happen when you have sex, Kyle. And we did more than just have sex. We fucked!’

‘You sound so sure I am the father. I don’t remember a fucking thing about that night!’ I gathered through my blurry sight. It was Kyle’s response to the image of a pregnancy test result.

It’s ironic how parallel lines could light up the future I had built with Kyle in flames and turn it to ash.

I couldn’t breathe. There seemed to be an oxygen shortage inside the room. My chest caved as questions filled my head. ‘What the hell is happening? Kyle? My Kyle. My fiance got another woman pregnant?’

Reaching the end of the thread that started more than a month ago, I finally had the guts to look at the display profile on the chat.

A strangled sob escaped my lips. I covered my mouth, my hand touching my wet cheeks.

It was Katerina Simone.

My fiance was the father of her child. Behind closed doors, she told Georgia and me what kind of service she’d require from us.

‘I am pregnant,’ Katerina said. ‘And I don’t want the public to know about my pregnancy until after my wedding.’

At LBPR, we live for these kinds of stories. You’d be surprised at the cost people would pay to maintain their perfect image.

‘Their names are worth more than their fortune,’ that’s what Chairman Lewis used to say.

In this case, Katerina has more than an image to protect. She chose me with intent. It’s not because of my excellent work at keeping Gia Marquez’s secret relationship with a governor. By coming to me, she made a statement to Kyle.

“Babe,” Kyle’s sleep-laced voice snapped me out of my trance.

I lifted my gaze to him, not even bothering to wipe my tears.

He opened the bedside lamp, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. It took him about five seconds to take in my appearance.

“Why are you crying?” His eyes landed on my hand, clutching his phone. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on with you and Katerina?” I’d like to give myself a pat on the back for not stuttering.

A tag of war was happening inside my head. One part believed that he would never do this to me. And the other tells me to wake the fuck up; the evidence was ready to bite me in the face.

He sat on the edge of the bed and took his phone, brows creasing as he scanned what was on display.

I clenched my fist. The sadness in my chest was slowly morphing into anger. A black hole was quickly sucking the future I dreamt of building with him. The kids, the waking up together and coming home to each other every night… This was the man I was supposed to marry.

‘How did this happen to us?’