"Congratulations, you're pregnant."
Kathy blinked.
The words echoed in her head long after the doctor had moved on to explaining prenatal care and next steps.
She barely remembered how she walked out of the hospital building, her heels clicking too loudly on the pavement as the envelope with her results felt like it weighed a thousand bricks in her bag.
Pregnant.
She was pregnant.
With a stranger's child.
And not just any stranger. A man whose name she didn't even know, whose face she could barely remember, whose bed she'd woken up in after a drunken blur of champagne and heartbreak.
Oh, and one more thing: she might actually be married to him. Her finger absently brushed against the gold band still on her ring finger.
This wasn't how her life was supposed to go. Her career at the fashion house was already walking on eggshells thanks to missed targets and competitive sabotage.
She had rent to pay, an endless list of responsibilities, a promotion she'd nearly bled for, dangling just out of reach.
And now, a baby?
She wasn't ready for this. Not emotionally. Not financially. Not in this world where power and reputation mattered more than anything. A single, confused, career-hanging-by-a-thread woman couldn't just show up pregnant and survive the scandal.
Her fingers gripped the strap of her bag tighter as she turned a corner and spotted a quiet café across the street. She didn't care about the time or if she was supposed to be at work. Right now, she needed to sit. Breathe. Process.
A child. A whole baby was forming inside her.
She crossed the street and pushed into the little café. It smelled like cinnamon and fresh coffee beans, and for a moment, the warmth hugged her like safety. She chose a quiet table near the window, away from the door.
Sliding into the chair, Kathy exhaled shakily and rested her forehead against her hand.
This couldn't be happening.
She fished out the envelope and stared at it. Her fingers trembled as she shoved it back inside her bag. If she didn't look at it, maybe it wouldn't be real.
She glanced at the gold band still clinging to her finger. The reminder of her humiliating, drunken mistake. Of the faceless man who had vanished the morning after like smoke.
Kathy closed her eyes.
"Your coffee, ma'am. And congratulations."
Her eyes opened quickly. "What?" she mumbled, confused. One, she didn't order coffee, two, congratulations for what?
The young waitress grinned awkwardly as if reading her thoughts and gestured to her hand. "Your wedding ring, it's beautiful. Congratulations." She said.
She gave a weak laugh. "Oh… no, it's not…" she started to explain, the words stumbling out of her mouth just as she has done several times.
"Still wearing the ring, I see." A smooth, velvety voice interrupted her.
She looked up, startled, as a man slid into the seat across from her without invitation, as if he owned the place.
Her eyes scanned him quickly. Tall, clean-cut jawline, dark brown hair that was just tousled enough to be artful, and sharp, knowing eyes that looked at her like they'd seen too much.
He was dressed in a fitted charcoal suit, like he'd just stepped out of an exclusive boardroom, or a magazine cover.
There was something familiar about him. A flicker of memory, the scent of cologne, a smirk glimpsed through champagne haze. He looked familiar. Terribly familiar.
But she couldn't quite place him. Kathy had enough on her plates already and didn't have the energy to deal with anyone.
"I'm sorry… Who are you?" She asked, eyeing him.
He arched his brow and mumbled something under his breath as he reached into his coat and slid a folded document without saying a word, across the table toward her.
She had a feeling that this was not going to end well. Her eyes dropped to the document and she picked it up, opening it slowly. This had better be something worth her time, Kathy thought.
Her breath caught as she scanned through it.
Annulment papers.
She looked back up. His smirk deepened, and in a flash, recognition hit her.
"Shit," Kathy breathed, dragging her fingers through her hair. "You're him. From the cruise. The stranger I… married."
He smiled slightly. "Yes. And I would love it if you signed the papers." He told her, pulling a pen from his suit and placing it next to her.
Kathy blinked down at the papers.
"It's a notarized annulment," he said smoothly, as if she had missed the point and couldn't read.
"In case you missed the fine print, we got married that night. You're still wearing the evidence. I waited a month to track this down properly. The basis of our marriage, well, was… unconventional. And as it stands, I can't be married to you." He finished.
She stared at him. So calm. So… matter-of-fact. Like their insane, drunken union was just a business inconvenience to clean up.
This is the man I'm pregnant for? This casually arrogant, devastatingly attractive stranger was the father of her child, Kathy thought.
Her thoughts were spiraling. She could feel her throat tighten as he looked at her. He wanted to undo this. To walk away. And maybe he should.
She scoffed. Who was she kidding?
They had made the decision to get married when they were drunk, no vows, no flowers, no romance. Just two heartbroken strangers leaning over a bar, toasting to their mutual disasters, and making the dumbest decision of their lives.
It wasn't love. It wasn't even logic. It was whiskey and champagne and a twisted sense of revenge against the people who had hurt them.
There was no fairy tale behind the ring on her finger, Just a slurred suggestion, a laugh, and a drunken dare taken too far. They had probably stumbled into the nearest chapel onboard or found some half-sober officiant with the authority and a witness who thought it was cute.
And now here she was, married. Legally married. To a man she barely remembered. And to complicate things, she was pregnant for him.
He didn't know about the pregnancy yet. And maybe that was for the best.
She glanced down at her bag. The envelope inside burned. Should she tell him?
No. He didn't want her. Or a child. That much was clear.
He didn't deserve to know. Not when he was trying to wash his hands off her with a neat little signature. Not when she didn't even know if she could keep the baby herself.
Kathy sighed loudly. "You shouldn't have waited a month to get this. I would've signed it that morning," she said coolly, though her hands were trembling under the table. "Instead of you running off."
His expression didn't change. "Fair point. But it's not too late now." He muttered as he tapped the paper. "Go ahead, Sign it then."
She narrowed her eyes. "You want the ring back too?" she asked.
He arched a brow, then smirked. "No, keep it. Consider it compensation for the stress."
Kathy frowned. She had tried to pull it off her finger, but it got stuck and couldn't come off. She remembered vividly the day after. Rushing to a jeweler to remove the ring, only to be told it was far too expensive to cut. She'd kept it, intending to return it. If she ever found him.
"No. I'll give it back. If I can get it off."
He leaned forward slightly, amused. "Ouch. It's stuck? I knew we didn't get your size." He said casually.
She opened her mouth to respond…
Then glass shattered.
Gunshots rang through the air.
Screams erupted in the café.
The window beside them exploded.
Kathy screamed as the table splintered and her chair tipped. Before she could move, the man lunged across the table, grabbed her, and shoved her to the floor behind the booth. Her heart was in her throat.
He covered her with his body, shielding her. Coffee spilled across the floor beside them as people ducked and ran. Chaos erupted around them. Screams. More gunfire. Footsteps.
Men in black suits swarmed the room like shadows, weapons drawn.
"Your Highness, the car is upfront! We need to move now!" one of the men barked, urgency sharp in his voice as he ducked behind a column, weapon still drawn.
Your… what?
Kathy's ears were still ringing from the sound of gunfire, but her mind hadn't caught up yet.
Your Highness?
The words echoed in her head like a broken record.
He's a prince?
The man who'd just pulled her down to shield her body with his? The man who showed up with annulment papers, who'd married her in a haze of alcohol and bad decisions… that man?
She turned to him in disbelief. "What the hell…!"
"She comes too," he said sharply, grabbing her hand as he stood. His tone left no room for argument.
Kathy yanked her hand back. "I'm not going anywhere!" she snapped, stumbling to her feet.
Her adrenaline was through the roof, chest heaving as her brain scrambled to process the last ten minutes of her life.
Pregnant? Check.
Getting shot at? Check.
Very possibly still married to said prince? Triple check.
Nope. No thank you. Not happening.
One of the men, clearly a bodyguard, moved toward her. "Ma'am, we don't have time. It's not safe here."
She backed up a step, raising both hands. "Yeah, I got that memo when bullets started flying. Still not going."
He looked at her, eyes locking with hers. "Kathy… I'm sorry. But we don't have time for this. We have to go!" he said in an exasperated voice.
She blinked at him, heart still racing. "You think I'm just going to follow some stranger who shows up, says 'Oops, I'm a prince,' and then drags me off after a shooting? I don't even know your real name!"
The same bodyguard who had spoken earlier leaned in and whispered something urgently into Zane's ear.
He nodded, then turned back to her with a sigh. "My name is Prince Zane Luca Moretti of… well, it doesn't matter right now, and whether you like it or not, you're my wife." He said.
"Excuse me?" she hissed.
"I can't leave you behind," he said to her.
"What? No. I'm not going anywhere with you!"
He stepped in, so close she could see the faint cut on his cheek from the flying glass. "I'm trying to keep you alive. I know this is insane. I know none of it makes sense. But if you step out of this building alone right now, they will kill you. You're in danger now because of me." He explained.
Her breath caught. "That makes it worse!" she snapped.
"Your Highness," one of the guards hissed, "they're closing in."
Zane met Kathy's wide, panicked eyes. "We'll talk later. For now, You're coming with me. It's not a request."
His voice had changed. It wasn't the flirty, smirking stranger from the bar. It wasn't even the cold man who pushed annulment papers across the café table.
It was something else entirely. A command. A plea. A warning.
And before she could argue again, he took her hand and pulled her with him, striding quickly toward the exit.