CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CAROLINE
A soft knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts — thoughts that had been spinning endlessly since Nathaniel kissed me and walked out as if the earth hadn't just shifted. The door opened quietly, and a man in a lab coat stepped in.
He looked around the room before asking,
"Madam, please, where is Mr. Nathaniel?"
"He stepped out," I replied, trying to sound calm.
He nodded, took a seat in the visitor's chair, and started checking something on his tablet.
I turned back to my own chaos of thoughts.
Nothing was going as I had planned. Something was wrong — off-balance — as though the ground beneath me was rearranging itself.
Should I just pick up my bag and leave?
I had no solid evidence to give Lovett. No recording. No proof. Just a kiss that left me more confused than before.
Maybe I should give him a week — let him process this, then return for the inevitable rejection. Or better still, I could call him later, get him talking, and record everything. That would be smarter, safer.
Decision made, I began to rise from the chair.
But before I could move, the door opened again.
Nathaniel stepped in, calm and commanding, his presence filling the room. When he saw the man, his lips curved into a faint smile.
"Dr. Nicolas, thank you for coming on such short notice," he said, rubbing his palms together as though warming up for something serious.
"It's alright, sir," the doctor replied, his gaze flickering briefly to me.
I looked away quickly.
He called for a doctor, not security. So… he wasn't angry, just curious — confirming if my words were true.
A test. That was all this was to him: a test of truth, not trust.
Then his voice drew me out again.
"Please, Dr. Nicolas, how fast can you perform a pregnancy test?"
The doctor's attention shifted from him to me, studying me with a mix of professionalism and curiosity.
"As fast as it takes to get to my office and back, sir," he said softly, still watching me.
I looked from one man to the other.
He didn't believe me.
Of course, he didn't. To him, I was probably another woman desperate to tie him down.
Fine. Let him finish his little charade.
I was about to look away when Nathaniel snapped his fingers sharply, pulling my attention back.
He stood near his glass shelf, holding a small disposable cup — the kind used for water or wine.
"Please, miss, can you use this?" he asked, tone clipped and formal.
I glared at him. If looks could kill, he would have dropped where he stood.
"If you call me Miss again, I swear I will—"
I stopped myself, then added bitterly,
"You didn't call me Miss the night you took me in the car park, under the open sky, while the whole world could see."
He laughed, the sound rich but slightly uneasy.
"I didn't see you complaining either. All I heard was your—"
He stopped mid-sentence, embarrassed. I couldn't help a tiny smirk.
The doctor coughed awkwardly and handed me the cup. I raised it slightly.
"Where exactly am I supposed to get this done since you need confirmation?"
Nathaniel recovered quickly, too quickly.
"This way, please," he said, leading me toward a door at the far end of the office.
The restroom was immaculate — polished marble, scented candles, even fresh towels.
But I didn't have the luxury of being impressed. My chest was tight with irritation and something I refused to name.
I finished quickly, came out, and found the two men speaking in low tones. The moment I cleared my throat, Nathaniel straightened up and adjusted his tie, as if I had caught him off guard.
I handed the cup to the doctor, who took it wordlessly and left the room.
---
NATHANIEL
By the time I left the floor, my thoughts were a storm. My PA trailed behind me, asking,
"Sir, should I call Mercy for you?"
I stopped. Mercy? Why her?
Then it hit me. My PA must have assumed that Mercy — the only one I ever called when I was tense — was my woman.
I turned slowly to face her.
"No, dear. I don't need Mercy. My wife is here."
Her jaw fell open, and I almost laughed. I walked into my office and shut the door behind me, my chest tight with a laughter that wasn't joy.
"I love her," I muttered, half-crazy, half-sane.
What was wrong with me?
She was pregnant — maybe.
Helpless, maybe.
And yet, I couldn't turn away.
Even if it turned out she wasn't carrying my child, I still couldn't let her leave like this. I would protect her. I didn't even know why anymore.
Mat was right. I was sick.
When I returned to the private floor, the air felt heavy.
The doctor was already there, and Caroline sat perfectly still — poised but burning from the inside.
"Dr. Nicolas, thank you again for coming so fast," I said.
He nodded.
"How soon can you run the test?"
"As fast as it takes to get to my office and back, sir," he answered, eyes darting between us.
For a moment, I wanted to defend her. Tell him to stop staring at her like that.
Instead, I reached for the glass cup, keeping my voice neutral.
"Please, Miss, could you use this?"
Her glare could melt glass.
"If you ever call me Miss again—" She stopped, her voice trembling with anger. "You didn't call me that the night you took me in the car park, with the whole world watching."
Her words landed like stones. I laughed — a weak, defensive sound.
"I didn't hear you complaining that night," I said before I could stop myself, then instantly regretted it. The doctor's raised brow was enough to sober me.
She took the cup, walked away, and I let out a long, silent breath.
"Sir," Dr. Nicolas said quietly, "what result do you want me to write?"
I turned slowly to him. "Excuse me?"
He looked uneasy. "If you need me to, I can… bend it. I can make the report read whatever you want."
For a moment, I stared at him.
How long had the world worked this way — truth being for sale in sterile cups and printed charts?
"No," I said finally, shaking my head. "I want the truth. No lies. If she's pregnant, I'll deal with it. If not…"
My voice trailed off.
"I love that woman, Doctor."
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Then let's hope the truth helps both of you."
The restroom door opened. Caroline returned, calm and collected, as if her entire soul wasn't on the line. She handed the cup over without a word.
When the doctor left, silence filled the room.
I sat at my desk. She scrolled through her phone as if nothing existed outside that small screen.
"So," I said finally, "if you're pregnant, how far along are you?"
Her eyes shot up. "You can do that math, can't you?"
"Not exactly," I said with a faint smirk. "I could have, if I remembered the day we…"
I didn't finish.
Something small and hard flew at my face — her phone. It hit me before I could dodge.
"What was that for?" I yelled, rubbing my cheek.
She didn't answer. Instead, she stormed toward me, fists small but fierce. She hit my chest, my arms, my pride. Every word she muttered in anger burned hotter than the blows.
I caught her wrists gently, trying to still her shaking.
"Caroline—"
"Don't Caroline me!"
But she didn't pull away when I drew her closer.
The silence between us crackled with everything we hadn't said, everything that had been lost and found again.
silencing her with my mouth, I poured all my rage and passion into the one punishing kiss.
Caroline tried to push me away, but I had none of that.
I grabbed her ass, and she opened her mouth.
I used that opportunity to deepen the kiss.
I heard her moan, and I lost control. My hand travelled all over her body.
felt her grind against me, and I knew I had her.
I raised her skirt to pull her pants down.
She stepped out of the pants.
I raised her and settled her on my desk.
One of my hands strokes her breast while the other hand finds its way into her pants.
She held my hand, and I stopped to look at her.
"The doctor can come in, please stop." I straightened up and pushed the intercom. My PA voice came on.
"Hello, sir." Caro tried to stand, and I pushed her back gently, sending my hand back in her V. She mourned out.
"Can you please come to the pent office reception area? When the doctor comes, tell him to wait for me there with you, ok? Miss Caroline is having a private meeting with me."
"Ok, sir." the line went dead.
My head dropped to join my hand on her V, she became a mourning mess, and I couldn't wait for her to cum, so I stood up. "Please don't stop." she tried to hold me.
"No darling, I am not stopping." I tore at my belt before continuing with my pants trousers, releasing my junior. I adjusted and drove home.
I felt the sensation in the middle of my head and released a groan. I am home, on my God.
Blood rushed to my dick, and I closed my eyes to gain a bit of control.
God know I can never get tired of this sensation or this feeling,
I moved in and out slowly, enjoying the friction. She was so wet. She hadn't been this wet the last time; this was heaven.
I was afraid to move fast because I was scared to hurt the little one in there, but then she moved her hips faster, and I lost it.
I picked up speed, slamming in. She screamed out my name.
"Nat yes-s-s there, o my God oh my god," She screamed, using her hand to tear at her hair.
I withdrew and flipped her over quickly, exposing her big ass to me, then slammed back in.
"Oh my god, Nat!" she screamed again, and I picked up speed.
"O baby, you like this position?" I asked. She nodded her head vigorously.
"My god, oh my god, oh my god," she screamed,
I have not done this job well. Caroline is still screaming god, not my name. I made a mental note, adjusting. I drew my dick all out and slammed in with a force that mirrored my feelings. She screamed my name in total shock.
I repeated this action twice, watched her eyes roll back, and then picked up a fast pass again.
This time, she was screaming my name.
"Nat, I am coming. Nat, I am coming oooooh yeaaaaaaa" "Come for me baby." I found myself screaming back, then felt her wetness on my dick as I shoot out my load.
I noticed somewhere in my subconscious mind that it's only this woman who makes me cum the instant she does. It's just like I hang on just to please her, and once she cum, I am free to shoot my load into her. It will just kill me if I don't pour it all in.
Withdrawing is just an impossible task where this beautiful woman and her V is. She milked me dry.
I withdrew my fuck, and struggled to my seat, then sank in. then quickly stood up and walked to her to help her steady herself.
When she finally stopped trembling, I led her gently to the chair.
She sat, adjusted her dress, and looked away, her face unreadable.
"Caro, can we talk?" I asked.
She ignored me.
Fine. Two can play that game.
I pressed the intercom. "Is the doctor there?"
"Yes, sir," my PA replied.
"Send him in. And you can return to your desk."
I caught Caroline's eyes as I ended the call — the faintest trace of jealousy flickered there, gone before I could name it.
The doctor entered, holding a brown envelope. He looked between us and smiled faintly.
"The test is positive," he said, turning the paper toward me. "According to the HCG level, she's about nine weeks pregnant. Congratulations."
Nine weeks.
The words hit like thunder. I stood, phone in hand, pacing toward the door, but something stopped me.
Her eyes.
For a moment, I saw it — the quiet wish that I would leave and never return.
But no.
It would be a cold day in hell before I walked away from her or the child she carried.
I turned to her, my voice calm but firm.
"Dear, you'll hear from me very soon. Please, feel free to help yourself to anything here. My PA can get you whatever you need — food, drink, anything. Even if you want my entire company, one word and it's yours."
Her glare was sharp enough to cut glass.
I laughed softly, turned, and walked out, letting the door close behind me — with my resolve following in its wake.