The porcelain was cold against my palms as another wave hit.
It was the third time this morning, my body wasn't letting me forget what that little pink line had confirmed.
I am carrying Augustus's baby.
I gripped the toilet seat harder, my knuckles white against the pristine white fixtures of Ever Holdings' executive washroom.
The irony wasn't lost on me, throwing up in his building, carrying his child, while he sat in his corner office completely oblivious.
My stomach finally settled enough for me to sit back on my heels. The marble floor was unforgiving, but I needed the solid coolness against my skin.
I pulled myself up to the sink, avoiding my reflection. My hands shook as I turned on the tap, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom.
In a few minutes, I'd have to walk back to my desk, pretend everything was normal, and somehow assist the father of my unborn child without falling apart.
I splashed cold water on my face and forced myself to look presentable.
The executive floor buzzed with its usual morning energy, but I kept my eyes down, avoiding the corner office where Augustus would already be reviewing reports.
Six weeks.
Six weeks since I'd crossed every line I'd sworn never to cross with him.
I slipped into my chair and opened my laptop, fingers trembling over the keyboard.
The pregnancy test results felt like they were burning a hole through my purse.
That night had been everything I'd fantasized about and everything I'd feared. Augustus, stripped of his suits and composure, had been tender in ways I never imagined possible.
His hands had mapped every inch of my skin, his body worshipping mine.
Best night of my life.
And the biggest mistake either of us had ever made.
We both knew it the moment morning came. The way he'd retreated behind his walls so fast it gave me whiplash.
The careful politeness in his voice when he'd driven me home. The way we'd both pretended it never happened.
I'd been avoiding him ever since, taking lunch at different times, keeping our interactions to emails and brief, professional exchanges.
Now I was carrying his child, and I couldn't even look him in the eye.
My phone buzzed with Augustus's calendar reminder—board meeting in five minutes.
Through the glass walls, I watched him straighten his tie, that familiar ritual before any important presentation.
My fingers hovered over my phone. Maybe a text would be easier.
We need to discuss something important.
No. Too ominous.
Can we meet after work? Personal matter.
Delete.
Augustus thrived on information, preparation. Ambushing him with a pregnancy announcement right before his quarterly presentation would be cruel.
But waiting felt impossible, the secret clawing at my chest every time he glanced my way.
My stomach lurched again, but this time it wasn't morning sickness. It was pure terror.
How do you tell someone who meticulously plans every aspect of his life that you're about to turn his world upside down?
Maybe after the meeting. Maybe over dinner. Maybe never.
I closed the text window and buried my face in my hands.
"Juliette, you look positively green."
Vanessa's voice cut through my panic.
I looked up to find Augustus's Chief of Staff standing beside my desk, her sharp bob perfectly styled, dark eyes glittering behind those minimalist glasses she wore like armor.
She'd been circling Augustus like a hawk for years, positioning herself as his indispensable right hand while nursing feelings so obvious they might as well be tattooed on her forehead.
"Late night?" Her tone dripped false concern.
"You really should pace yourself. Augustus needs his assistant to be... functional."
She turned away and headed to the boardroom meeting with a grin.
The way she said his name, like she owned it, like she had any claim to him at all.
Something inside me snapped.
I'd spent weeks tiptoeing around this secret, weeks of letting fear control me while Miss Perfect here made subtle digs about my competence.
Screw subtlety. Screw careful planning.
I was Juliette Harper, and if I was going to ruin Augustus Evans's perfectly ordered world, I was going to do it with style.
I pushed through the mahogany doors without knocking, my heels clicking against the polished marble.
The conference room fell silent, twenty suits turned toward me like a flock of startled ravens.
"Miss Harper—" Vanessa started, her eyes wide in surprise.
I swept past her, past the analysts clutching their tablets, past the lawyers with their briefcases, straight to the head of the table where Augustus sat.
"Ladies, gentlemen," I said, turning to face the room with my brightest socialite smile.
"I need the room."
Murmurs rippled through the group. A silver-haired director leaned forward.
"Ms. Harper, we're in the middle of—"
"I'm aware." My smile never wavered. "Now, everyone out."
The Harper name hung in the air like expensive perfume.
Without a word, chairs scraped back and papers rustled.
One by one, they filed out, shooting glances between Augustus and me. The heavy doors clicked shut.
Augustus leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, gaze fixed on me with the stillness of a man assessing a hostile takeover.
"Congratulations, Ms. Harper," he said smoothly, as if my interruption had been part of the agenda all along.
"You've just dismissed my board of directors. I hope whatever you have to say merits a multimillion-dollar delay."
"Let me guess," he said, voice flat as steel.
"Your stylist double-booked? Or perhaps daddy's threatening to cut your allowance again?"
I crossed my arms.
"Always so dramatic, Juliette. What earth-shattering crisis requires interrupting a board meeting this time?"
The condescension in his voice made my jaw clench. Always reducing me to daddy's spoiled daughter.
I slapped the sealed envelope onto the mahogany table. The pregnancy test followed—two pink lines stark against white plastic.
Augustus stared at the objects like they were foreign artifacts. His fingers remained steepled, but I caught the slight twitch in his left eye.
"What is this?"
"Use that Ivy League brain of yours" I planted my palms on the table, leaning forward. "What does it look like?"
His gaze flicked between the test and my face. The color drained from his cheeks, leaving him pale as winter marble.
"Juliette—"
"Congratulations, Mr. CEO, you're going to be a father."