📖 The Story Continues
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Pregnant and Spoiled by the Billionaire – Episode 11
Amelia heard the disgust in Leo’s question and wished she could take back her clumsy request. She had not meant to turn the morning into a negotiation. “I really hate to ask you this,” she said, forcing herself to continue, “but I need some money for my dorm fees.”
Leo barely heard the explanation. Jason’s voice from the bar replayed in his mind: I paid five thousand dollars for you, and I’m going to get what I want. Leo had assumed Bethany sold Amelia without her knowledge, but now suspicion poisoned that certainty. Had Amelia approached him for the same reason?
The thought felt like betrayal because he had allowed the night to matter. He had told her he wanted her from the first moment they met, believed the desire in her eyes, and imagined that morning might begin something neither of them had planned. One request for money made every memory look different.
Amelia saw his expression close and hurried to explain. “I promise I’ll pay you back.” She wanted to tell him about her father, the empty account, and the overdue notice, but humiliation tangled the details in her throat. Admitting the amount seemed simpler.
“How much?” Leo asked. His voice was colder than it had been when he confronted Jason Wallis. He expected her answer to reveal the price she had placed on their night, and he despised himself for waiting to hear it.
“Three grand,” Amelia said. The words were quiet, separated by nervous hesitation. Leo, accustomed to conversations where figures were measured in millions, heard something else entirely. In his anger, the difference between three grand and three million disappeared.
“Three million?” he repeated. Amelia opened her mouth in confusion, but he had already turned away. “You’ve got some nerve.” The accusation struck harder than the insults in the café because it came from the man who had treated her as though she was worth protecting.
Leo crossed to the dresser and took out a black bank card. If money was what she wanted, he would give her enough to expose the full ugliness of the transaction and end it immediately. Anger was easier to bear than admitting how badly he had misjudged her—or how much that possibility hurt.
He held the card out without meeting her eyes. “This card has ten million dollars on it. The PIN is six zeroes.” Amelia stared at it, certain she had misunderstood. No one offered ten million dollars to cover a three-thousand-dollar dorm bill.
“Take it and get lost,” Leo said. The final words made his meaning clear. He believed she had slept with him for access to his fortune, exactly the kind of woman he had spent years avoiding. The connection in his office, the rescue, and every tender moment afterward had been reduced to a price.
“What?” Shame became anger so fierce that Amelia forgot her fear of being homeless. “You think I slept with you for money?” She wanted to throw every detail of her life at him until he understood how wrong he was, but pride demanded something cleaner than pleading.
Leo extended the card again. “Are you going to take it or not?” His face remained impassive, yet the hand holding the card was rigid. Some part of him wanted her to refuse and prove his suspicion wrong. He had simply made the refusal almost impossible to give.
Amelia looked at the black card, then remembered her father’s voice after stealing her savings. I needed that, she had begged. I have nothing left. Do you want me to get kicked out and end up on the streets? His answer had told her to use her youth and beauty, as though survival required selling herself.
Now Leo was looking at her as if she had followed that advice. The injustice burned away every trace of hesitation. Amelia snatched the card from his hand—not because she intended to spend ten million dollars, but because she refused to let his contempt be the final word between them.
“I’ll pay you back, Leo Preston,” she declared. She gathered her clothes and left the bedroom before tears could weaken the promise. Leo watched the door close, anger battling the immediate impulse to follow her and demand the explanation neither of them had managed to give.
Amelia used only what she needed to keep her dorm room, recording the exact three-thousand-dollar amount as a debt. She cut Bethany out of her life and buried herself in work, determined to repay Leo before she ever saw him again. Pride became the wall holding back memories of how safe she had felt in his arms.
Weeks passed, but the night refused to disappear. Nausea arrived first, followed by exhaustion and a missed period she blamed on stress. When a second month began without one, Amelia bought a test and stared at the result until fear drove her to the campus clinic.
The same examination room from eight weeks after their first meeting closed around her. She sat on the edge of the table while the doctor reviewed the results, each passing second tightening the knot in her chest. Amelia already knew, but knowledge did not prepare her to hear the truth spoken aloud.
“Congratulations,” the doctor said with a warm smile. “You’re eight weeks pregnant.” Amelia’s hand moved instinctively to her abdomen. The timeline allowed no uncertainty, no other possibility, and no easy way to separate the child from the man who believed the worst of her.
“I’m pregnant with Leo Preston’s baby?” she whispered. Their last conversation had ended with ten million dollars, a slammed door, and a promise driven by wounded pride. Now Amelia carried the heir to an empire inside her—and she had no idea whether telling Leo would heal the misunderstanding or destroy what remained between them.
