Chapter 2
Olivia
Two months.
I stared at the pregnancy test in the CVS bathroom, my hands shaking like I had Parkinson's.
Two pink lines.
Clear as day, mocking me.
"This can't be happening... we only did it once..." My voice echoed in the cramped space, barely a whisper.
The damn fluorescent light was giving me a headache, and the smell of disinfectant made me want to puke.
Actually, I was already nauseous. Three days of morning sickness, and I'd been stupid enough to think it was just a seasonal bug.
"Miss, you okay in there? It's been ten minutes." An impatient store clerk knocked on the door.
"I'm fine... be right out." I tried to sound normal, but anyone could hear the tremor in my voice.
I looked at myself in the mirror—pale as a ghost, dark circles under my eyes, looking like death warmed over.
For two months, I thought I'd moved on from that bastard's shadow.
I was wrong.
Dead wrong.
"Damn you, Mike... you ruined my life." I glared at my reflection, tears streaming down my face despite myself.
And I didn't even know his real name. A fake name, a fake business card, a thousand bucks for "services rendered"—I was just a disposable toy to him.
And now I was carrying his child.
I burst out of the bathroom, nearly knocking over an elderly woman waiting outside. Everyone in the store was staring at me like I was some kind of freak show.
I had to get out of there.
Two PM, and I dragged myself into Velvet Bar.
Tony, the owner, was in his office with a half-empty pack of cigarettes on his desk, smoke thick as fog. When he saw me, something uncomfortable flickered across his face.
"Olivia, have a seat. We need to talk."
My stomach dropped. Tony never "talked" to employees unless he was firing them.
"Sorry, Olivia, but we've had some serious customer complaints about your service." He wouldn't even look me in the eye. "I'm gonna have to let you go."
The world went silent.
"What complaints?" I fought to stay calm, but my voice was shaking. "I've never—"
"Here's a month's pay." Tony slid an envelope across the desk, still avoiding eye contact. "Don't bother coming in today."
I felt like my blood was flowing backward. Pregnant, and now unemployed.
I gripped the edge of the desk so hard my knuckles went white.
"Who complained?" I stared him down. "Give me specifics, Tony."
"I can't reveal customer information." He lit a cigarette with trembling hands. "Sorry, Olivia."
That's when my phone rang. Mr. Brown, my landlord.
"Miss Smith, someone's offering double rent for your apartment." His voice was cold as ice. "You've got 24 hours to move out."
My world collapsed.
"But I have six months left on my lease!" I was practically screaming.
"There's an owner's priority clause in the contract. Non-negotiable. You need to be out by tomorrow night."
The line went dead.
I looked at Tony, who was suddenly very interested in some paperwork on his desk.
"Pretty convenient timing, don't you think?" I laughed bitterly. "Losing my job and apartment on the same day?"
Tony looked up, and I saw fear in his eyes that I'd never seen before. "Olivia, don't read into it. It's just... coincidence."
Like hell it was.
Eleven PM, Brooklyn.
Rain was coming down like God was trying to wash the world clean. I stood outside my apartment building with my beat-up suitcase, soaked to the bone.
The flickering streetlight seemed to mock my misery.
I had nowhere to go.
All I had was the money Tony gave me and that thousand dollars the bastard had left behind—I'd never been able to bring myself to spend it, and now I was glad.
But how long would that last in New York?
I pulled out that crumpled fake business card, watching "Mike Johnson" blur in the rain.
I remembered calling that number two months ago and hearing "The number you have dialed is not in service."
Even my last hope was fake.
I crushed the card in my fist, nails digging into my palm. That bastard couldn't even be bothered to give me a real way to contact him. I was just a one-night stand to him.
"Bastard!" I tore the card into pieces and threw them into the rainy night. "You destroyed everything!"
The pieces scattered in the wind, just like my shattered life.
Rain mixed with tears on my face—I couldn't tell which was more bitter.
"What am I supposed to do... the baby... what am I supposed to do..." I crouched down, hugging my knees like a child abandoned by the world.
"Miss, it's not safe out here this late. Want me to call you a cab?" A kind stranger stopped to ask.
I looked up to see a guy in his fifties with sympathetic eyes.
"No money..." I shook my head, my voice hoarse as sandpaper. "I've got nothing left."
He sighed, pressed a twenty into my hand, and hurried away.
Twenty dollars.
Just when I thought I'd be sleeping on the street tonight, a black Rolls-Royce slowly pulled up in front of me.
Rain streaked down the windows, but I could still make out a figure inside.
The window rolled down, revealing a familiar profile.
My heart nearly stopped.
It couldn't be...