Unexpected proposal

IZZY.

I stared at my bank account balance.

My gut churned. The figures were a cold, unforgiving red. I was so broke, it wasn’t even funny.

Two days. It had been two days since the nursing home informed me that I needed to pay fifty thousand dollars for Winnie's surgery.

And I was no further along on finding a solution than I was that night.

Instead, I was underpaid. Overworked. Cheated on. Pregnant.

And now, I was going to lose the one person I had in my life.

Could things get any worse?

Literally on cue, Hannah's sharp heels clicked on the office floor, each stomp getting louder.

I sighed. Here we go.

Hannah was beside my desk, arms crossed, lips pursed into that classic smirk. "Did you finish the projections report?"

Shit.

I shut my eyes for a brief moment. I had completely forgotten.

I sighed and looked up. "I— I haven't had a chance to do it yet. I've been juggling a lot—“

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Hannah interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Just do it. I've been waiting, and your slowness is messing up my schedule."

My annoyance sparked.

I tightened my fists. "Then why don't you do it?"

The words were out before I could rein them in.

Hannah froze. Her impeccably shaped brows shot up. "What?"

My pulse accelerated, but I raised my chin. "I said, do it yourself. It's your project, Hannah. Not mine."

Some of the people in the surrounding cubicles had begun eavesdropping. Someone even snickered.

Hannah's face darkened."Are you giving me lip?"

I pursed my lips. "It's the least I can do since you're so good at stealing other people's ideas."

A few more chuckles rang through the office.

Hannah's cheeks burned. She took a step forward, looming over my desk, her hands set on the surface.

"You little—"

A sudden commotion erupted behind me.

People gasped. Whispered.

Hannah's head snapped toward the door, and her jaw dropped.

Her voice became high-pitched, almost shrill. "Is that Roshan Armento?"

What?

I blinked, startled. I looked towards the entrance—

And my breath hitched.

It was him.

Blue Eyes.

Or, should I say—Roshan Armento.

The billionaire. How did I not know I was sleeping with fucking Roshan Armento?

Roshan strode into the office like he owned the world, his tall, authoritative strides commanding attention.

As he passed, people froze. Some whispered. Others simply stared.

He didn't look at anyone.

Not at Hannah, who fluffed her hair and wore her most dazzling smile.

Not at the managers who subtly straightened their ties.

His piercing blue gaze was directed at one person.

Me.

Izzy.

He stood in front of my desk, hands easily in his pockets, his presence dominating the room.

The air grew thicker.

Hannah swallowed, her voice sugary sweet.

"Mr. Armento," she started, "it's such an honor to—"

"Izzy."

Roshan's voice was low, smooth. Intimate.

Hannah stiffened.

I swallowed. "Yes?"

He nodded, still watching me. "Can I steal your lunch break?"

Silence.

Then—

Hannah gave a choked laugh. "Well, technically, it's not break yet, so—“

Roshan did not even look at her.

Hannah's face flushed.

I paused, heat rising up the back of my neck from the attention. "Uh… yeah?"

Roshan extended a hand.

I paused for a brief moment before taking it.

The second his fingers wrapped around mine, I felt a shiver.

I stood.

And, with all eyes on us, he walked me out.

People gawked.

Some gossiped.

Hannah? Fuming.

We stepped into the elevator. The doors slid shut.

Only then did I let out a breath.

My voice was hushed. “What are you doing here? And… how do you know my name?”

Roshan smirked, eyes glinting. “Patience.”

My stomach tightened.

Did he… know?

Did he know I was pregnant?

Before I had a chance to ask, the elevator dinged.

He took me outside, the office buzzing behind us. Each step, every look, every whisper trailed behind us.

Roshan moved with purpose, and before I knew it, we were entering a small café.

He led me to my usual table and gestured to a chair.

I sat, my mind spinning. He took one across me.

Our orders were placed, but I could barely focus.

I was restless.

Why was he here?

How did he find me? Did he want me to abort the baby? Would I want to?

Finally, Roshan leaned back, resting his elbow on the table. “Go ahead,” he said smoothly. “Ask your questions.”

I leaned forward. “What are you doing here?”

Roshan studied me for a long moment.

Then—

“I need to marry you.”

I blinked. Then I laughed. But he was serious. My laughter died.

My heart kicked up.

“Wait…what?”

Roshan’s voice was calm and certain. “I need to marry you, Isabella.”

My throat dried. I stared at him, trying to process. “Are you… being serious?”

His blue eyes didn’t waver.“Dead serious.” He leaned forward, voice lower as he repeated.

“I need to marry you. And I need to do it in two weeks.”

My mind blanked. Two weeks?

Two.

Weeks?

I was pregnant with his baby, and now he was saying he needed to marry me?

I sat there, staring at the father of my secret child, who just casually dropped a bombshell.

All I could tell myself was—

My life should be a fucking sitcom.