Page 32 of Triplet Babies for the Billionaire
“You think I’msleeping my way to the top?” I yell, unable to contain the rage bubbling up inside me. “You think I’mthatkind of woman? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Before she can respond, Miguel steps between us, his face hard with authority. “Enough,” he says, his voice booming in the small kitchen. “Both of you, out. Now. I don’t care what’s going on, but I’m not having this shit in my kitchen.” Neither of us says a word as Miguel gives us both a stern look. “Keep it up, and I’m calling Noah. You want to explain yourselves to him?”
The threat of Noah’s involvement makes us both fall silent. Neither of us wants him involved in this. We reluctantly turn and walk back to the bar, both seething with annoyance.
Back in the bar, I can feel the heat of Courtney’s eyes on me. She’s acting like nothing happened, like she didn’t just spread poison about me behind my back. I focus on the drinks in front of me, trying to drown out the tension, but then she leans in, her voice cold and low.
“You’d better leave Noah alone,” she says, her tone sharp. “If you don’t, I’ll tell him your little secret.”
I stop dead in my tracks, my hand shaking as I grab a bottle of gin. “What secret?” I ask, my voice rising with a mixture of anger and confusion.
Courtney watches me with an almost predatory look. “You really think you can hide this from me? You think Noah doesn’t have a right to know?”
I feel my stomach churn, the sick feeling growing stronger.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
Is she talking about what I think she is?
Is she trying to blackmail me?
I stand tall, trying to mask my fear. “You’re out of your mind, Courtney. Stay away from Noah,” I snap, my voice firm.
I take a breath, keeping my gaze steady on her. “And I see why Noah got tired of you. You’re just a bitter, jealous mess.”
Courtney’s face reddens, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she walks away, leaving me to focus on the drinks in front of me, my hands still shaking.
The shift finally ends. Thank God. It’s been a long, exhausting day, and I’m mentally and physically drained.
I’m not sure what to do with myself. I don’t feel like going home to Noah tonight, not with everything hanging over me. But I’m also anxious about seeing Amy—what if she starts asking about the way I’ve been feeling lately? She doesn’t know aboutthe nausea, the fatigue, the constant worry that something might be wrong.
I decide to walk home instead of taking the subway. It feels like the right choice, even if my feet ache. The quiet of the night is calming, and I need some time to clear my head. I need to be alone.
I breathe in the cool night air as I walk down the streets of Manhattan, the city alive with light and sound. The lights are so bright. It feels like the city never sleeps. The summer air is warm against my skin, and the smells from food carts wafts through the streets, mixing with the noise of cars and the chatter of late-night crowds.
But instead of making me feel hungry or relaxed, the smells only make me feel nauseous again. My stomach turns, and I clutch my abdomen, feeling the familiar churn. I start to panic.Am I pregnant?
I shake my head, trying to push the thought away. I can’t be. It’s just a stomach bug. That’s all it is. Right?
I glance down at the small drugstore ahead and briefly consider going inside to get a pregnancy test, but then I stop myself. I can’t face it right now. I can’t face the possibility of what that test might say.
I turn my head and start walking again.Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just stress.
But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s more than just a bug.
Chapter Eleven
Noah
The meeting room is abuzz with energy as I stand at the front, outlining the details of our next big move. The investors are all there, seated around a dark, polished wood table, their eyes fixed on the projected figures on the screen.
This is my world: presentations, numbers, power plays. I’ve spent years building this empire, and moments like this are what make it all feel worth it. The deal I’m about to close? It’s huge. A new set of beachfront hotels in the Bahamas. If we pull this off, it’ll be the jewel of our portfolio.
I present our projections, talking through logistics and expected ROI, while my sister chimes in with details on the branding strategy. The investors nod along, their pens scratching notes on paper, and I know they’re hooked.
The moment I manage to swing the deal, the room erupts into applause. Everyone is shaking hands, patting each other on the back. “This is a big win for all of us,” one of the investors says, his voice thick with satisfaction. “We’ll be celebrating tonight, right?”
We make plans to grab dinner later in the week to finalize the details. The deal is sealed, and the energy in the room is one of triumphant relief.
