Three Friends-With-Benefits Begged Me Back After My Pregnancy

Before the arranged marriage, my parents warned me to cut off any messy relationships.

I was just about to send the breakup texts when all three of them beat me to it.

On the same night, in bed.

Ryan dropped every ounce of his usual cool, pinning me against the headboard and going harder than he ever had before.

"One last time. Forget about me. My fiancée can never find out about this."

Janus, silver-framed glasses still on, counted every glance I'd ever stolen at another man and punished me for each one.

"Anna, she's back. Don't come looking for me at my place anymore."

And then there was the last one.

Adam was tied to the head of the bed, jaw clenched, swallowing his pride through gritted teeth.

"Anna, consider the money I owe you paid in full. After tonight, stop bothering me."

One wild night, and I could barely walk the next morning.

My parents asked, "All cleaned up?"

I nodded.

They gave me a thumbs-up.

I was the eldest daughter of the Vance family.

The arranged marriage was with the young heir of the city's biggest corporation.

Word in our circle was that this guy was a cold, untouchable type — never seen at clubs, never spotted with a woman, and he supposedly despised women with a messy romantic history.

Well, that was awkward. I didn't exactly have a romantic history — more like a sexual one. Romance? Total blank page.

I was about to ask for my future husband's name when a sharp pain tore through my stomach.

Could it be that I went too hard last night and actually broke something?

My parents rushed me to the hospital. But instead of an injury report, the doctor handed us an ultrasound.

The doctor gave me a stern look. "Miss, you didn't know you were pregnant? And you've been drinking?"

My parents smacked their foreheads in unison and turned to stare at me, slow and accusatory.

I scratched my cheek, cringing. "Sorry. Purely accidental."

The arranged marriage was called off.

To protect my reputation, my parents told everyone I was going abroad to study. I flew to California, had the baby, and named him Noah.

Having a kid changes you overnight, I swear.

I looked at the little guy bobbing his head around, eyes squeezed shut, making a wish.

"I wish to stay with Mommy forever."

My heart melted.

But everyone kept saying a child without a father would grow up missing something. And it was true — Noah had always been timid, rarely smiled.

So I tested the waters.

"Noah, what if Mommy found you a daddy someday? How would you feel about that?"

His face went cold instantly, and those bright little eyes turned dark.

"No. I only want Mommy."

A chill ran through me. I pulled him into my arms immediately.

A few days ago, my parents called. They wanted me to bring Noah home.

I figured we'd been hiding out long enough. Time to go back and let Noah feel his grandparents' love.

But the second we landed, I spotted a familiar figure outside the airport.

Adam leaned against a Bentley, looking effortlessly smug, the corner of his mouth curled up.

Then he noticed the child holding my hand, and his face went ice-cold.