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The Billionaire's Asset: Carrying His Heir

Chapter 7 No.7

Word Count: 666    |    Released on: 30/01/2026

gone to the one place she thought might be safe, a small studio she

n't work. The li

, saw her from the lobby. "Ms. Paul? I'm sorry. The un

blood running cold. "Tha

" George said, looking uncomfortable. "Some big corpo

her moves; he had cut them off

been messengered to her that morning-feeling heavy in her bag. It

an unknown number. Sh

Rivera was the sharpest divorce and trust attorney in the country. Sh

era? How

my services to oversee the execution of your pre-nuptial agreement. He wanted me to inform you that any a

ly. He was Corbin's weapon

" she said, he

nt to answer, but the call was a vide

all laughed from the interior of

ell," Au

Kendall said. "He's turning it into a storage uni

a hun

in wanted it, but he wanted it on his terms. Her threat about a "stressful pre

omputer and searched for clinics in Queens. Not for an abortion. For a consultation. She needed a

nic on 34th Avenue. One that

tation," she said into t

tom, Corbin watched the red dot o

Marcus, said from the front seat. "She just ca

around the tablet unti

able facility?

ly legal, sir

uld risk her life-and his heir-in a chop shop rather than accept

t clinic is part of our real estate portfolio, isn't i

le. "Yes, sir. We acquired t

iately. Cite health code violations. Have our se

s,

he red dot move

he ordere

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The Billionaire's Asset: Carrying His Heir
The Billionaire's Asset: Carrying His Heir
“I stood in the marble bathroom of the Pierre Hotel, staring at the two pink lines that signaled the end of my life as I knew it. The dates didn't match my sterile, arranged engagement to a business heir; they matched a blizzard in Davos and a man whose name I had tried to scrub from my memory. I thought I'd hidden the test deep in the trash, but my stepsister Kendall was a viper who had been watching. Moments later, in the middle of a high-stakes gala, she stood on stage and projected a giant image of my positive pregnancy test onto a screen for all of New York's elite to see. The fallout was instantaneous and brutal. My fiancé, Preston, didn't ask for an explanation; he simply announced to the room that our merger was terminated because I was a "fraudulent asset." My stepfather, Senator Hansen, didn't offer a hand as I was swarmed by reporters; instead, he had security drag me out into a freezing rainstorm, hissing that I was a liability who had tanked his campaign. Barefoot and soaking wet on the sidewalk, I watched his black town car splash gutter water over me as I realized my bank cards were frozen and my apartment was already being sold from under me. I huddled in the rain, feeling the strange, protective heat in my abdomen, realizing my own family had orchestrated a public execution of my character. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me destitute and destroyed. "Who is the father?" the reporters screamed, their flashes blinding me as I collapsed on the wet concrete. I had been discarded like trash by the people who were supposed to love me, left with nothing but the secret growing inside me and a flash drive that could burn the city to the ground. But I had one nuclear option left. When a black Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb, I didn't beg for a ride. I held up the drive containing the evidence of Corbin Heath's illegal offshore accounts-the cold-blooded billionaire who was the true father of my child. "I want sanctuary, my father's freedom, and my assets unfrozen," I told him, shivering but resolute. Corbin looked at me with eyes like cold steel and offered a deal that felt more like a hostile takeover than a rescue. He would protect me, but only if I signed a contract that made me his wife and gave him total control over my life and his heir. I had escaped the wolves only to sell my soul to the devil, and as the car door clicked shut, I realized the war for my survival had only just begun.”