Synopsis: Zara Parkinson has only one agenda for the night; Lose her virgin status. She meets a man named Marcello and he shows her just what it is she has been missing out on , her entire life. Two months later, she finds out she is pregnant. Marcello Andres is faced with an ultimatum; get married or get disinherited. A woman comes to him, claiming he is responsible for her pregnancy. With the threat looming over his head, will he make an opportunity out of this crisis? Excerpt: The man before me levels me with freezing stare. My limbs shake under his cold eyes. “ Miss Parkinson, is it? You said you’re pregnant?” “ Yes” “ And I’m responsible for it?” Had he not been listening to me the whole time? “ Yes” He smirks. “ That’s not possible, Miss Parkinson” “But, we met at the club downtown two months ago and we …slept together. It was my first time so I’m not mistaken.” He slams his palms down on the desk with a loud bang. “ You can go pin that thing you’re carrying on the rightful owner because that is not me. I had a vasectomy, Miss Parkinson”
View MoreZara’s POV Thankfully, the whole tabloid thing dies off in days. The company has been doing well , judging by how much Marcello has been cooped up in the office. And when he comes home, he barely sleeps, throwing himself into more work. I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit worried for his health. He’s riding the wave of the recent increase in revenue that he’s neglecting himself. What the man does may not be my business but he has done his best to make sure that I do not want for anything during my pregnancy journey. So, I’m going to try to re turn the favour. I ask Mr. Phillip to stop by the local mart, so I can pick up a few things I may need. Last time, he cooked me a Mexican rice dish that I very well remember the taste of but can’t for the life of me, seem to remember it’s name. I just remember that it was rich in protein and veggies. So, I stock my cart with a healthy serving of beef and every other vegetable that looks good. On my way to the counter to check out the items I picked,
Zara’s POV I wake up with a start, to the insistent blaring of my alarm. My eyes are still heavy , even thou I probably slept for ten whole hours. Sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a golden halo over my face. I sit up, hands outstretched above my head. My body feels heavy, largely owing to the increasing size of my belly. At six months, it feels like I have been pregnant forever and not to sound conceited or anything but I wish the babies could give me space to breathe; maybe come out already.My attention is drawn to my phone buzzing consistently on the pillow beside me. I must have fallen asleep while texting the girls last night. Something about the constant vibrations makes me anxious. I watch dazed for a moment as the notification bar moves with more messages. Sluggishly, I reach for the phone, my movements slowed by my still booting brain. Over 500 notifications on my social media and a few messages from the group chat with the girls. Emily’s message is the fir
Zara’s POV Mama doesn’t let us leave immediately, insisting that we stay for dinner. Hence, me hiding out in Carlotta’s room. Left for me, I would take a cab home , so I don’t have to face my ugly impulsive decisions . I know I have said this before but let me reiterate; Marcello is cancerous. One minute I was bawling my eyes out in Maria’s arms and the next, I let go of my morals in Marcello’s. This stupid, stupid pregnancy hormones. Carlotta is downstairs helping out with dinner and Marcello is well…being Marcello somewhere around the house. I hope he stays busy until we have to leave . If I face him now, I might simply die of mortification . I offered to help out also but Mama chased me out with a spatula. At a few minutes past 6 pm , Carlotta pops in to let me know that dinner’s ready. When I get to the dinning room, I see Mr. Hernandez already seated, reading a newspaper with his glasses perched atop his nose. He puts down the paper when he sights me and beams “ Mi Queri
Marcello's POV True to her words , Zara stormed out of the house with a duffel bag. I could only watch, stunned, as she walked past me with every determination in her. It was only after a few minutes, that I came to terms with what just happened. Thankfully, she had Uncle Phillip drive her. One less thing to worry about…I immediately thought of calling Mama to inform her that a very angry, pregnant woman was headed her way. Mama laughed when I explained the entire ordeal to her and then proceeded to scold me for letting my pregnant and very emotional wife out of my sight, without running after her to pacify her. She promised to take care of her and threatened that if I didn’t drag my behind home within the next hour, she would personally make sure that Zara die snot return home. I really cannot understand women . Hence, I am en route the family home and I didn’t forget to buy a lot of gifts to pacify Her Royal Majesty. I have heard men say things like ‘ happy wife, happy home’ b
Zara’s POV One thing I didn’t expect that accompanied my recent bouts of morning sickness ,is the heightened appetite. Not just the appetite to eat good food, I have the most insane cravings these days; especially spicy food. Desi, Thai, Korean, Chinese , Japanese, you name them. And Marcello, bless his heart, has been a sweetheart, offering to buy me whatever I crave. Pretty sure the man has visited all the indigenous food places in New York in the span of one week but I am eating for three, so…This past week, I have gotten used to his tendency to call me random endearing names. At first, thinking about it gave me a major migraine but I’ve decided to just go along with the flow. Just as long as he keeps buying me spicy buffalo wings…I woke up this morning craving egg tarts and Julio has been MIA for a while now, only coming in one day out of five. Not gonna lie, I’m a bit worried about his absence but I’m not one to pry.It's Saturday and I know that Celine will be ordering a tot
ZaraDr. Meyers beams immediately she sees me and offers me a seat. “ Zara! I wasn’t expecting you today but it’s so good to see you” She looks at the Stony- gazed man beside me , “ you came with your husband too. This is great.”Marcello offers her a handshake in his usual professional manner and she accepts it. “ Marcello Andres” “ Sharon Meyers. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Andres.”“ Likewise”“ So, what brings you here today?”“ I woke up today with a really bad case of morning sickness. I’m worried because I no longer had that but I woke up today feeling like my stomach was twisting itself from the inside. Dr. Meyers hums in contemplation. “ Most women go through morning sickness until the end of the third trimester, so I wouldn’t be worried about that. However, what worries me is the pain you’re feeling . That’s not normal, especially at this stage. You’re nearing the end of the your second trimester and this is a critical time.”My heart thrums rapidly at her w
ZaraSomething smells awful. It’s a familiar smell but it something smells repulsive today. I rollover on to my right to ward off the smell but it seems to be me everywhere. My belly folds over life a turbulent tide on a beach, recoiling and rumbling in disagreement to the smell assaulting my senses. I feel the wave within trying to force itself out of my throat but I force it down, taking deep breaths. Only, that was a big mistake on my part. I jump out of the bed with a sense of urgency, almost tripping on the sheets wrapped around my ankles. The moment I kneel before the toilet, a torrent of vomit comes hurling out of my throat. Remnants of the rice Marcello made for dinner last night. My stomach twists uncomfortably with each bout of retching and it actually feels like my intestines are eating me from the inside out. I may have experienced bad morning sickness the first few weeks but they had ceased for a while. I guess I was wrong to be relaxed. I flush the toilet and rinse
Marcello’s POV The dinner ended on a good note and I’m just relieved to have gotten it out of the way. The only problem now is, I’ve been sporting a very painful boner all night. As I conversed with guests, I had to place both hands over the front of my pants, so as to not draw unwanted attention to myself. Zara Parkinson is a minx . After she whispered “ Dream on , babe”, my boner went from hard to raging. I did all I could to distract myself from thinking about her ass in the pants she wore tonight. The clothes weren’t tight or anything but I simply couldn’t take my eyes off the way she strutted away from the table. Immediately the last guest left, I bolted upstairs and ripped off all the clothes I had on and stepped into the shower. I stood under the cold spray for minutes but my mind didn’t seem to get the memo that we were trying not to go feral. Images of Zara sprawled out on my bed, her salacious moans, the way she moved and fuck! That bump. Never knew a pregnant belly coul
ZaraThe dress arrived at exactly an hour to the dinner but not exactly the way I expected it to. True to Viv’s words, I was totally blown away. Valerie was just making some finishing touches on my makeup when Emily, our housekeeper, walked in with a box. The inscription on the box read ‘ HN’ which is Viv’s brand name. I ripped through the ribbon holding the package together, barely able to contain my excitement. Only as I lifted the lid on the box, my excitement dropped several notches. A dead bird lay on the clothes, in a splatter of blood and gore. My name is written inside the box, in bright red. The bird is devoid of it's head, it's wings broken and entrails hanging out. . Whoever did this must have snapped it's neck and proceeded to slice it's gut open.I stand transfixed, cold sweat dripping down the back of my neck. . A realization hits me; it's a baby bird. My hands move instinctively to cradle my stomach. Fear of anyone ever harming my innocent child makes my stomach chu
ZaraThe city is as lively as ever. Couples pass me by, donned in red and white, a symbol of the festivity in the air.It's February 14th, also known as Valentine’s day worldwide. They say it is a day for lovers to celebrate love but I call bullshit.Love does not exist. Trust me, I’ve tried searching. Over the past ten years of my life, I have been in and out of relationships but my past partners only seemed to want one thing – sex.Apparently, finding a relationship without sex in this day and age is akin to what the pastor in my mum’s local church had used to describe rich men who wanted to make it to heaven; a camel passing through the eye of a needle.My first relationship had been in High school, with a boy named Carter. He was sweet at first, buying me coffee and walking me home after school. One day after he walked me home, he asked to come in. He had made a move then, trying to get under my clothes. I had fought him ferociously , holding tightly on to the material of my flowy...
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