Six months into her marriage, Arabella Quinn-Vale glowed brighter than ever — not just from pregnancy, but from power.
QuinVale International had become a media darling, much like the couple running it. But not all the attention came with love.
Arabella leaned back in her office chair, her signature blush-pink suit hugging her growing belly. Her heels, still daringly high, clicked as she crossed her legs. The boardroom was empty, but her reflection in the glass wall made her smile — she still had it.
That morning, her face was on every cover.
"Barbie CEO or PR Baby Bump?"
"Arabella Quinn: Pregnancy or Power Play?"
"They never tire of underestimating me," she muttered, sliding a gold pen between her fingers.
The door opened. Cassian walked in, holding a tablet, his dark brows furrowed.
"You saw it?" he asked, placing the tablet in front of her.
She nodded. "They say the baby's a publicity stunt."
His jaw tensed, fingers curling around the back of her chair. "Do you want me to handle it?"
"No," she said, voice calm but clear. "Let me."
He studied her. "You sure?"
Arabella stood, her bump stretching the soft satin of her blouse. "Let's give them a reason to talk."
—
Later that evening, Arabella arrived at a press gala wearing a custom pink velvet gown. Her baby bump was proudly outlined beneath the crystal-studded fabric, her diamond heels peeking through every step.
Cameras flashed wildly. Reporters pushed forward.
"Arabella! Is it true you're stepping down?"
"Is the baby a distraction?"
"Did Cassian marry you out of obligation?"
She raised a single manicured hand, silencing them. "Since you're all wondering — yes, I'm pregnant. No, it's not a stunt. And no, I'm not stepping down."
Gasps and murmurs.
"I'm growing a child and a company at the same time. If that makes you uncomfortable, you're welcome to leave."
Cassian watched from the side, eyes shadowed with something like admiration — and something deeper. Pride? Possessiveness? Love?
Arabella returned to his side, brushing her hand along his arm. "Smile, husband. We're trending."
He leaned close to her ear. "You terrify them."
She smiled sweetly. "Good."
—
Back at the penthouse, Cassian poured them both juice — Arabella's on doctor's orders.
She held her glass with both hands. "Do you think I was too much?"
He shook his head. "No. You were... perfect."
There was silence between them, warm and comfortable. Until he spoke again.
"My father would've hated today. Said you were too loud. Too proud."
Arabella glanced at him. "And you?"
"I married you for it."
He touched her stomach, thumb brushing softly.
"I don't know how to be a father, Arabella."
She placed her hand over his. "You'll learn. We both will."
They stayed like that for a moment — the cold CEO and the Barbie in heels, surrounded by silence and soft light.
Then her phone buzzed. A private message. No name. Just a number.
"He's back in town. Be careful who you trust."
Arabella's breath caught. She froze.
Cassian noticed immediately. "What is it?"
She turned the phone toward him. He read it — and his expression turned to stone.
"Who sent that?"
"I don't know."
Cassian pulled out his own phone. "I'll find out."
Arabella placed her hand over his again. "Wait."
He looked at her, questioning.
She met his gaze steadily. "I think we need to tell the truth now. All of it. About my past. About yours. Before it explodes in our faces."
---