He Bought the Baby, Not the Girl

June's POV

To save my mother's life and pay for her experimental cancer treatment, I had to take a night shift at an exclusive private club.

That night, Elias Sinclair had been drugged. He grabbed my wrist, his eyes wild and burning, and whispered, 'Don't go.

Two months later, a constant, sickening wave of nausea confirmed my worst fear: I was pregnant.

The Sinclair family didn’t waste any time. Within days, a contract was shoved in my face. The house and millions of dollars would be mine, but the child would belong to them. The price? I could never see my baby again.

I signed the paper, took the money, and fled the country, thinking our paths would never cross again.

Five years later, I returned to Koren City, wanting nothing more than to quietly care for my ailing mother.

But the one man I swore to avoid blocked my path, smelling of whiskey and dark intent.

"Are you avoiding me, June?"

The stench of the chicken coop was suffocating today.

I bent down to pick up the third egg, but my stomach violently rolled. I had to grip the wooden railing just to stay upright.

"Damn it."

I turned my head away, waiting for the nausea to pass. The wind outside was freezing, but a cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

I tried to convince myself it was just the smell.

At noon, my mom, Margaret, pushed a plate of fried eggs toward me.

The moment my fork punctured the yolk, my throat tightened. I rushed to the sink and dry-heaved, but nothing came up.

Margaret set her cup down, her voice barely a whisper. "June, you’re pregnant."

I pressed my hand against my stomach. It was still flat, yet it felt like a ticking bomb.

"Yes."

She closed her eyes. "Who is the father?"

I couldn't answer.

Months ago, the hospital had called to tell me my mother's cancer had relapsed. The only hope was a clinical trial in Houston. Insurance covered nothing. The medical bills loomed over us like an insurmountable wall.

I worked extra hours on campus, but it was a drop in the bucket. Desperate, I took a job at the VIP club.

That night, I was sent to Elias Sinclair’s private suite to deliver a bottle of whiskey.

Someone had drugged him. His tailored suit was disheveled, his eyes wild and dangerous. Sensing the danger, I set the bottle down and turned to escape, but he caught me by the wrist.

I struggled, pulling back with everything I had, trying to pry his hand off me. But his grip was iron. I couldn't break free.

He pulled me flush against his chest, pinned me to the sofa, and took me in a haze of drug-fueled heat.

I woke up the next morning to find Elias already dressed, his cold, untouchable mask back in place.

Without a word, he wrote a check and slid it across the nightstand.

"One million dollars," he said, his voice flat and icy. "Take it, and keep your mouth shut about last night."

I swallowed my pride and took the paper, thinking of my mother's medical bills.

"Don't worry," I said, meeting his cold gaze. "I don't want anyone to know either.

The day the check cleared, I paid the hospital deposit. In all the chaos, I forgot to buy the morning-after pill. I also forgot that my period was weeks late.

By the time I confirmed the pregnancy, the baby already had a heartbeat.

"What do you plan to do?" Margaret had asked me.

"Keep it."

"Do you know what that means?"

"Yes."

I knew how high the Sinclairs' pedestal was. I knew Elias would never marry me. But every time the ultrasound technician played the heartbeat, that tiny, rapid sound broke me. I couldn't let go.

As the weeks passed, I bound my stomach tight with cloth, continuing to attend lectures, work, and take exams.

During my final exam, my vision suddenly went black. I heard someone scream my name, followed by the clatter of a falling chair. Then, darkness.

When I woke up, Margaret was sitting by my hospital bed. An IV was taped to the back of my hand.

"Mrs. Sinclair was here," Margaret said quietly. "They're coming to fetch you tomorrow."

"I'm not going."

A warm, polished voice drifted from the doorway. "June, you can reject me, but you can't reject the medical care this child needs."

Vivienne Sinclair walked in, with Elias standing right behind her.

His gaze flicked to my slightly rounded stomach for a fraction of a second before turning cold and indifferent.

Vivienne sat on the edge of my bed. "You've lived with your mother your whole life?"

"Yes."

"I will arrange the best treatment for her. You will move into the Sinclair manor. We will handle your doctors and your university tuition. However, the moment the child is born, it belongs to the Sinclair family. You may return to your studies, and we will pay your way."

On the drive back, Elias kept his eyes closed the entire time.

The Sinclair manor was unnervingly quiet. As the maid led me upstairs, Elias was standing by his doorway.

"Your room is here."

That night, we were placed in the same suite. I slept in the small bedroom adjoining his.

As I passed his bed, I couldn't help but look at him.

"Stop staring," he said, his eyes still closed. "Go to sleep."

I retreated to my room, but with the door slightly ajar, the silence was fragile.

"Your breathing is too loud," his voice drifted in from the main room.

"Sorry."

I lay in the dark, unable to sleep. My mind drifted back to my childhood—to the memory of my father shoving Margaret, and the blood dripping down her temple.

By sunrise, Elias was gone. I couldn't find my bathroom, so I had to use his. When I went downstairs, someone was already waiting in the dining room.

She was stunning. Wearing a tailored white dress, she was chatting warmly with Vivienne.

Elias was standing right behind her.

The girl looked up at me and smiled beautifully. "You must be June."