I once pushed myself so hard chasing contracts that I drank until my stomach bled—
and they ended up removing a third of it.
That night, Olivia Hayes clung to me, tears streaming down her face.
“Ethan, you’ve suffered so much.”
“For the rest of my life, I will never betray you. If I ever do, may the world spit on me—may I die a wretched death.”
Back then, Mrs. Hayes grabbed my hand, eyes red.
“Son, you are the savior of the Hayes family. From now on, you are the one to lead. Hayes Group will be yours.”
But it only took the Hayes family a few years to stabilize—barely reaching the corporate mid-tier—before Mrs. Hayes’ gaze toward me changed.
Arrogance. Disdain.
Especially after Olivia’s older sister, Victoria Hayes, tied herself to the Drake family—
to Nathan Drake, one of the wealthiest heirs in Los Angeles.
Mrs. Hayes dropped all pretense.
She publicly claimed that I was the one climbing above my station.
She said if her second daughter weren’t so soft-hearted, she too could have married her way into a billionaire dynasty—
maybe even into one of the East Coast Four Elite Families.
She forgot everything.
She forgot how, if I hadn’t risked my life, slashing costs, fighting deals, saving Hayes Group from collapse…
they’d still be scavenging for scraps.
After I finished restructuring the Hayes assets, Olivia returned—alongside Nathan Drake.
She arrived to find me sitting on the windowsill, drinking alone,
a man hollowed out and exhausted.
She set down her suitcase and walked over, brows furrowed, throwing open the window.
“Your health is terrible—why are you still drinking? You’re a grown man. Stop acting like a child.”
Then she placed a hand on her lower stomach, and her next words hit me like a thunderbolt—
“I’m pregnant. Stop drinking—you’ll harm the baby.”
Pregnant.
After one month away.
How eager she was—
no hesitation at all.
My heart, strangely, turned calm.
Everything I needed to do next suddenly felt crystal clear.
I gave a soft laugh.
“Alright. No more drinking.”
I grabbed my clothes and headed to the bathroom.
I needed a shower—
needed to wash away the filth of what I’d become.
When I came out, Olivia was gone.
My phone vibrated—a message from five minutes earlier:
“Drake Enterprises’ anniversary gala is in two days. I have to attend.
Make sure you come Friday.
Don’t say anything stupid.
For now, we’ll say the baby is yours.
His true identity will be revealed when the time is right.”
Of course.
They cared about the baby’s reputation—
just not the day the truth would destroy mine.
Expressionless, I deleted the message
and called Attorney Collins.
“How much of the asset transfer is done?”
“Mr. Carter, we’ve completed about seventy percent.
A full transfer at once might draw attention—we need more time.”
“No rush. Keep going. Steadily.”
Friday came.
I arrived punctually at Moonridge Estate in Beverly Hills.
Olivia stood beside Nathan Drake at the main entrance—
a stunning red gown, practically glowing.
Anyone who didn’t know would assume it was their wedding.
I approached calmly to greet them.
Olivia’s voice was polite but cold:
“Go inside and sit.”
The tone of a woman who already saw herself as mistress of the house.
Inside, a few business partners came over:
“Mr. Carter, congratulations! We heard Mrs. Hayes is pregnant!”
“Hey, shouldn’t you be out there helping Mr. Drake welcome guests?
She’s the pregnant one—why make her do all the work?”
I smiled thinly.
“It’s fine. She likes being helpful.”
They stole glances at Olivia holding onto Nathan’s arm.
Awkward chuckles followed.
Soon, all the guests arrived.
Nathan Drake went on stage for his speech—
with Olivia Hayes proudly holding his arm.
As if she belonged there.
