Page 30 of Pregnant and Stolen by the Tycoon

For his child.

He clenched his gut against the next shockwave that surged at those three words. But even more shocking? The fact that, watching her walking into the bathroom to perform the test, he’d felt a punch of dismay at the possibility of the result being negative.

Nine weeks ago he’d dismissed her request for a child as insane because the notion of fathering a child had been anathema to him. A deliberately abstract occurrence he’d been certain he wouldn’t mind if it never came to pass.

Waking up the morning after their night together to find her gone, he’d convinced himself that it was for the best, too. Hell, he’d been saved the firm but awkward disentangling from clinging expectations.

That flash of disgruntlement that had lingered far longer than he’d wanted it to? It’d weirdly been allayed when, replaying their night together in the shower, he’d been jolted by the possibility that the protection had failed beneath the vigour of their coming together. He’d remained in that shower far longer than usual, alternately shocked and alarmed by the thought that he was in no hurry to chase after Genie Merchant to verify.

Even the primal urge to ensure she made the choice he preferred had disappeared at the certainty that if she was pregnant, she would keep the child.

His child.

He’d been in no hurry becausethathad meant he’d see her again, one way or another. If only to verify that their night together had left no consequence.

It was that very unsettling notion that refused to dissipate, urging strongly that theirs was unfinished business, aside from the algorithm contract, that had conversely kept him away until the very last moment.

Had he known subconsciously that this life-changing event was on the horizon?

He shook his head. What did it matter now? The only material thing going forward was that he was going to be a father. With the crushing weight of history a jagged spear in his chest.

Would he fail his child just as his parents had done? Would he at some point in the future lose his way so badly that he wouldn’t care whether his child was harmed by another so long as it benefittedhim?

It might seem unthinkable to himnowbut what of the future when he didn’t know how his twisted childhood would manifest itself?

His lungs constricted again with deep apprehension but he pulled himself past it.

It wouldn’t happen. Not if he took the steps he was planning.

For a start, it was even more imperative now that the future stability of Cardosia was ensured. Disabling his uncle’s hold on his homeland was one way of ensuring his flesh and blood had a future home and legacy. Something to be proud of if all else failed. One thing that wouldn’t make Seve a failure in his child’s eyes.

Glancing at the door one last time, he rose and went in the opposite direction, towards the plane’s conference room. As much as he would like Genie’s cooperation in all this, he was prepared for there to be a little turbulence before the path smoothed out.

He was used to adversity. And between the baby growing in the womb of the woman in his cabin and his determination to save Cardosia, he would have a battle on his hands.

Accepting that, he opened his laptop and brought up the latest weekly report on his uncle’s activities.

The very first page darkened his mood.

Between last week and this, Lorenzo Valente had brokered two more deals that would strip essential resources from Cardosia’s ecosystem. Even worse, Seve knew every cent of that deal would be funnelled into his uncle’s private bank account in Luxembourg.

By the time he reached the end of the twenty-three-page document, fury blazed through his bloodstream.

Snatching up the phone, he punched in the far too well-used numbers. The moment it was answered, he barked, ‘Have you seen the latest report?’

‘We have, sir. We’re attempting to stall the deals he’s making but we won’t be able to do so for ever. He’s the head of state.’

His fingers tightened around the phone. ‘Dios mio.Try harder! This is unacceptable.’

He’d been used as a pawn as a child and, even as a successful man, Seve knew Lorenzo still flaunted his name about in order to secure deals for himself. His wily uncle continued to pillage his homeland ceaselessly.

No more.

The team he’d put together to monitor his uncle’s activities—and to stall his intentions to bleed Cardosia dry—comprised scientists, economists and a few key figures serving in his uncle’s government.

The oldest of them was the one who bore the misnomer of a conscientious politician—Alfredo Santiago. He cleared his throat and Seve pinched the bridge of his nose because he knew what was coming. Alfredo never failed to bring it up at least once in their every interaction.

‘You know what you need to do, son. The window of opportunity is fast closing.’

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