Chapter 22: Business Trip

Sophie lowered her eyes and nodded, the small movement draining what little strength she had left.

The living room fell into suffocating silence.

Samuel shot to his feet, shock and fury battling across his features. He snatched the report from Mireille's hands, reading it over and over as if he could scorch a hole through it. "Sophie, what the hell happened? Who did this?"

The Sophie he knew was disciplined, careful. How could she suddenly be pregnant?

Sophie's shoulders trembled faintly. She didn't answer.

Samuel's anger flared hotter when she stayed silent. He slammed the report onto the table, his voice shaking. "Which bastard was it? Tell me. I'll make him pay. He has to take responsibility."

Sophie finally looked up. Her bloodshot eyes were filled with bitter exhaustion and self-mockery. "Responsibility? You mean go tell him I'm pregnant and force him to marry me? Or let him throw money at me to make it go away?"

Her voice was soft, but it cut like a blade straight into Samuel and Mireille's hearts.

"He won't want this baby." Her mouth curved into something harsher than a smile. "To him, this child is just a problem. One he can solve with a check."

She wouldn't beg. She wouldn't let her child be labeled a "mistake" from the moment it was born.

"That doesn't mean he gets off the hook!" Samuel paced, agitated. "He can't just walk away!"

"Samuel." Sophie cut him off, her gaze suddenly calm, steady. "You're forgetting something. I was the one who got left behind before."

That stopped him cold.

"I won't let my child go through what I did." Sophie placed a hand over her still-flat stomach, her expression tender and resolute. "I'm not going to beg him for anything. I won't use this baby as leverage. The baby has me. That's enough."

She knew what abandonment felt like. She would never do that to her own child.

Even if the road ahead was lined with thorns, she would walk it alone. She would have this baby and raise it herself.

Mireille's eyes brimmed with tears. She gripped Sophie's cold hand, her voice thick but firm. "Okay. We won't ask him for anything. Sophie, don't be scared. You've got us."

Samuel stood there, looking at her fragile, stubborn frame, his chest aching so much he could hardly breathe.

The anger inside him slowly gave way to something heavier—responsibility.

He stepped forward and crouched in front of her, meeting her eyes. His voice was serious, unwavering. "Sophie, whatever you decide, we're with you. Starting today, I'm this kid's godfather. Mireille's the godmother. Raising a baby costs money. Don't carry it all yourself. We're here."

Sophie looked at the two people who genuinely cared for her, and the tension she'd held all day finally broke. Tears slid down her face in silence.

She knew the road ahead would be hard. But at least now, she wasn't alone.

Across the city, in the Carter Group's executive office, Aiden set a document on Sebastian's desk for signature. He mentioned casually, "Mr. Carter, Sophie took a sick day today. I heard from the executive office that Rhea made her go to the hospital this morning. Apparently, she looked really pale."

Sebastian's pen paused mid-signature, leaving a faint ink blot on the page.

He thought of the gala night—Sophie in his arms, burning hot and weightless, fragile as glass.

How long had it been? And she was sick again?

An irritation he couldn't name crawled under his skin.

He hated this lack of control. Hated that his mood could be swayed by a subordinate.

"Noted," he said flatly, sliding the signed document back. His tone gave nothing away.

Aiden took the hint and left. The office fell silent again.

But Sebastian couldn't focus on the reports in front of him. He leaned back in his chair, his long fingers drumming absently on the desk.

Emma's accusation echoed in his mind again.

Ridiculous.

He valued talent, that was all. Sophie was the most capable assistant he'd ever had. He didn't want a key employee sidelined by health issues. It was purely professional.

After an internal debate, Sebastian picked up his phone.

He opened Sophie's chat, his finger hovering over the screen. Finally, he typed a few words and sent them, his tone strictly business.

Sophie had spent the night curled up on the couch, knees pulled to her chest. She'd only drifted off near dawn.

Her friends' departure had brought some comfort, but it left behind a deeper sense of confusion and helplessness.

Her phone buzzed, jolting her awake.

When she saw Sebastian's name on the screen, her heart lurched.

The message was brief: [How are you feeling?]

Sophie's mind went blank. A guilty panic gripped her chest.

Why was he asking this now? Did he know something?

The thought surfaced, and she immediately pushed it down. She forced herself to stay calm.

He'd probably just heard she'd taken a sick day. This was routine concern from a boss. Nothing more.

She took a deep breath, typing and deleting several times before settling on the safest response: [Mr. Carter, thank you for asking. Just my stomach acting up again. Nothing serious.]

After hitting send, she stared at the screen, palms slick with sweat.

Sebastian read her reply, his frown deepening.

Stomach issues again. This woman's body was like glass—one crack of pressure and it shattered.

He tried to convince himself he didn't care. But every time her pale, exhausted face surfaced in his mind, that nameless irritation churned harder in his chest.

He needed her at her best. The upcoming project depended on her.

Yes. It was about work.

That's what he told himself as he typed a second message, his tone commanding: [Take care of yourself. Tomorrow we're going to City A for business. I'll pick you up at seven.]

Sophie replied: [Understood, Mr. Carter.]

The next morning, just before seven, a sleek black Bentley pulled up in front of Sophie's apartment building.

Sophie hadn't slept. Early pregnancy symptoms had left her face even paler than before.

She'd applied light makeup to hide the exhaustion, but the shadows under her eyes still showed.

When she saw who was in the driver's seat, she froze.

"Mr. Carter?"

Sebastian was driving. Aiden wasn't with him.

"Get in." His tone was as cold as ever, as if personally picking up a subordinate was the most natural thing in the world.

Sophie swallowed her confusion and opened the door, sliding into the passenger seat.