Chapter 3 I'm pregnant

• Aril' POV
• The silence felt heavy, like the air before a storm, but I had already made up my mind, I couldn't back down now.
• My fists were clenched so tight that my nails dug into my palms, but I refused to show weakness. Not this time.
• My father chuckled from across the room, eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. “Still the same reckless little girl,” he sneered. “Bold and naive. You really think you’re ready to play this game?”
• The scorn in his voice made my stomach turn.
• He folded his arms, as if savoring the moment, before dropping the real bomb. “You should know the Reid family heir is crippled. Can’t perform. And the doctors say he won’t live long either. This isn’t a love match, Aril—it’s a business deal. They’ve made it clear you’ll be signing a prenup. You’ll get nothing, even after he dies.”
• I froze.
• Of course. If this was such a ‘great opportunity,’ it would’ve gone to Sienn long ago. My stepsister would’ve been first in line. I knew it. I always knew it. My father had no intention of sacrificing his precious little princess to the Reids. No—he saved that honor for me.
• Because he’s desperate to climb. The Reids are one of the most powerful families in the country, and he’d sell his soul for that connection. But not Sienn’s. Never hers. He needed someone disposable.
• Me.
• And after finding out his dear brother tried to assault me, did he defend me? Protect me? No. He tried to turn it into leverage for a better deal.
• I looked straight at him, hate burning in my chest. I couldn’t afford to lose this. Mom’s assets were still in his hands. I had to play smart now.
• My father is the textbook phoenix man—he schemed his way into my mother’s life, turned her family business into his own empire, then cheated without shame. He threw her out while she was pregnant and abandoned us overseas like we were trash.
• But I’ve waited eight years for this moment. Eight years of exile. Eight years of planning.
• Now, the chance for revenge is finally here.
• “I have a condition,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I want to return to our country with Mom. And you need to give back everything that belonged to her.”
• “Aril, you can’t be serious about this,” Mom said, her voice breaking with tears, she probably thought my decision was rash, I knew it was, but how long could we continue to live like this?
• We already lost Atlas. I wouldn't lose her as well.
• “Marriage isn’t something you joke about, just don't make any decision because you're worried about me,” She spoke again, but Dad stepped forward quickly, his eyes lighting up like he’d just solved a problem. “Fine. If you agree to marry, I’ll let you both return to the country.”
• The relief on his face made my stomach turn. He was that desperate to get rid of me.
• “What about Mom’s assets?” I looked straight at him, with the same coldness he always regarded us. “She brought money when she married you. Since you’re divorced now, you should give it back.”
• His face twisted into a scornful look, the same expression he’d worn the day he threw us out. “It seems your mother didn’t teach you any manners all these years. You’ll get the belongings after the wedding.”
• “Get ready,” he said, already heading for the door. “We leave tomorrow.”
• After he left, Mom grabbed my hand with both of hers. Her skin felt paper-thin and cold against mine as she made me sit down next to her on the hospital bed.
• "Aril," her voice trembled, panic rising fast in her eyes. "You can’t marry a man like that. Crippled? Impotent? And dying? How could you even consider it? No! I won’t let you throw your life away like this!”
• She was shaking now, her frail body trembling with the effort of holding herself together.
• “This isn’t just some deal, Aril. This is your life! You deserve better than being handed over like a bargaining chip to a man who can't even—” her voice broke with rage and heartbreak.
• “I know, Mom,” I interrupted gently, my voice low. “But think about it. Because he’s disabled and... unable to perform, he won’t be able to force me to do anything I don’t want.”
• She stared at me, stunned.
• “And since he’s not expected to live long, I won’t be trapped forever. This isn't love, but it’s freedom. We’ll get our country back. We’ll get your assets back. It’s a clean trade—and once he’s gone, I’ll be free again. No harm done.”
• Her mouth opened like she wanted to argue again, but I reached for the lunchbox and opened it, forcing a casual tone. “Besides, he’s your best friend’s son, right? At least we know he has decent blood.”
• Mom didn’t speak, but the fire in her eyes dimmed slightly. She was still torn, still scared for me—but I could see she was losing the fight.
• Before she could object again, I gently changed the subject.
• “Come on, eat something. You’ve barely touched food all day. You won’t have the strength to get better if you don’t eat.”
• In the end, my mother couldn't persuade me to change my mind, and we returned to our country the next day.
• My father looked down on us, mother and daughter, and didn't let us enter the gates of the Monroe family. Instead, he arranged for us to rent a house nearby, and on the day of the wedding, I had to return on my own.
• This suited me just fine. If I went back, my mother would have to face the third party who ruined her marriage. It was better to stay here in peace.
• I held the spoon and fork in my hand, looking at the ordinary food on the table, but I had no appetite. In fact, I even felt a bit nauseous.
• "Are you feeling unwell?" my mother asked with concern.
• I didn't want her to worry, so I lied and said the plane ride had made me lose my appetite.
• I put down the spoon and fork and went into the room, closing the door behind me.
• Leaning against the door, the nausea only grew worse instead of going away.
• Although I had never been pregnant before, I had seen my mother during her pregnancy.
• She had been nauseous, unable to eat, and I was feeling the same way now.
• It had been over a month since that night, and my period was ten days late.
• I didn't dare to continue thinking about it. That night had already been humiliating enough, and I kept remembering the mocking expression of the middle-aged woman that night.
• If it hadn’t been for my mother and brother, I would never have sold myself.
• I started to tremble.
• But when I arrived at the hospital, the doctor's words hit me like a bolt from the blue.
• "You're pregnant. Six weeks.”