News traveled faster than light at Matthew Group. By lunchtime, everyone knew. "Did you see her dress?" "I heard they're planning a spring wedding." "Finally! A woman worthy of the CEO."
Eunice kept her head down, staring at her spreadsheet. Every whisper felt like a needle. Worthy. That was the word. Vanessa was worthy—rich, beautiful, connected. Eunice was just the employee who got pregnant by accident.
She grabbed her water bottle and headed to the break room, needing to escape the suffocating air of the open-plan office.
She pushed the door open, hoping for solitude. Instead, she found her.
Vanessa was holding court. Three junior marketing assistants were gathered around her, laughing at something she said. Vanessa sat on the edge of the table, sipping the iced soy latte Eunice had fetched for her earlier.
The laughter stopped abruptly when Eunice walked in.
"Oh, look!" Vanessa beamed, her smile tight and predatory. "It's the little analyst. Eunice, was it?"
"Miss Vance," Eunice corrected quietly, walking to the water cooler.
"Right. Vance." Vanessa hopped off the table and sauntered over. The scent of expensive perfume—roses and musk—filled the small room. "You know, Hart was just telling me how hard you work. Late nights. Weekends. Dubai."
She paused, letting the implication hang in the air. The other girls exchanged looks.
"He relies on his team," Eunice said stiffly, filling her cup.
"Of course," Vanessa purred. "But you really should take better care of yourself. You look... puffy."
Eunice froze. Her hand went instinctively to her waist. She wasn't showing yet, not really, but her clothes felt tighter. Was it visible?
"I'm fine," Eunice said, turning to leave.
"Are you?" Vanessa stepped in front of her, blocking the exit. "You rejected the coffee I offered earlier. And now water? No soda? No energy drinks? For a workaholic, that's unusual."
Vanessa's eyes dropped to Eunice's stomach, then back up to her face. The look wasn't friendly anymore. It was calculating.
"You're not... sick, are you?" Vanessa asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Because Hart hates sick people. He thinks it's a sign of weakness."
"I am perfectly healthy," Eunice lied, gripping her cup so hard the plastic creaked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a report to finish."
"Wait." Vanessa reached out and tapped a fingernail against Eunice's chest. "Let me give you some advice, from one woman to another. Don't get ideas. Hart might play with his toys when he's bored, but he always comes home to the real thing."
Eunice felt the blood drain from her face. Toys. That's what she was. A toy. A distraction until the "real thing" came back.
"Is that a threat?" Eunice asked, her voice trembling with anger.
"It's a reality check," Vanessa smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "He's going to marry me, Eunice. It's been arranged since we were children. So whatever little crush you have... bury it. Before you get hurt."
The break room door swung open.
Hart Matthew stood there, filling the frame. He looked between the two women—Vanessa's sweet, innocent smile and Eunice's pale, furious face.
"Vanessa," Hart warned, his voice low. "I thought you were leaving."
"I was just saying goodbye to your lovely staff!" Vanessa chirped, breezing past him. She stopped at the door and looked back at Eunice. "Take care of that tummy ache, dear. Ginger ale helps."
She winked and left.
Hart turned to Eunice. He stepped into the room, the door clicking shut behind him. The other assistants quickly scrambled out, sensing the danger in the air, leaving them alone.
"What did she say to you?" Hart asked.
"Nothing," Eunice said, walking past him. She couldn't look at him. If she did, she would cry, and she refused to cry in front of him again.
Hart grabbed her arm. Not roughly, but firm enough to stop her.
"Eunice."
"She said you're getting married," Eunice blurted out, ripping her arm away. She finally looked up at him, her eyes burning. "She said it's been arranged since you were kids. Is it true?"
Hart stared at her. He didn't deny it immediately. He looked conflicted, trapped between duty and... something else.
"My grandmother wants the union," Hart admitted slowly. "It merges our families' assets. But I haven't agreed to it."
"But you haven't said no," Eunice whispered.
Hart was silent. In his world, you didn't just say 'no' to a billion-dollar merger. It was complicated.
"I see," Eunice said, her voice hollow. "Congratulations, sir. I'll be sure to have the quarterly reports ready for your honeymoon."
She walked out before he could see the first tear fall.