Pregnant

Wilson Rhys' raging voice boomed,"You are pregnant?"

Ivy could feel the change in the atmosphere. She could almost taste it. And the look in her father's dark eyes said it all— today would be the day she died.

When she texted him to book an appointment, (it did not matter that she was his daughter and that he was her father) Ivy had expected this reaction. She just had not expected the tension in the air to be this thick.

Ivy's grip around the hem of her flanked top tightened. Her throat suddenly closed and it got harder to breathe. She was suddenly dumb and could only lower her head.

"You slut, how dare you?!" Wilson thundered, causing Ivy to take a step back. "You… you whore! How could you let another man touch you? You are nothing but a disgrace!"

Ivy bit her lower lip. "I… I am sorry, dad."

"Sorry my foot!" The man was furious. His eyes had turned red from anger. "Did you even think about the engagement with the Reynolds before letting a bastard touch you!?"

Ivy shook her head, bringing her gaze to her father's. "I… I cannot marry Damien, dad. I I cannot!" She cried.

'If I marry Damien, then all my efforts, even getting pregnant, would be in vain. No! I cannot let that happen.'

"I do not love him!" Ivy added, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"You will marry him, and that is final!" Wilson yelled. His eyes held no sympathy as he said, "About that… that bastard inside you, I… I will think of a way to get rid—"

"You will do no such thing!" Ivy cut in, glaring at her father. The fear in her eyes was replaced by rage and defiance. "This is my baby and I will keep—" Ivy had barely finished speaking when her father slammed his hands on the desk and stood up.

"You listen to me, young woman," he snapped, pointing at her, "You will do as I say, do you hear me? That thing inside of you will be taken out. You will do as I say and go to the hospital tomorrow to have it removed!"

Ivy paled. Her hands subconsciously wrapped around her flat tummy; a motherly instinct to protect her little one.

"An abortion?" Ivy could not believe it. "You are asking me to have an… an abortion?"

"I'm not asking, I'm ordering," Wilson clarified with a stern expression.

Ivy took a step back, her face scrunching up in confusion. "Who are you?" She asked, tears rolling down her cheeks in quick succession. "How... how can you be so- so cruel? What kind of a monster are you? I… thought you were my father. How can you be so heartless?" Ivy broke into sobs.

Yet, Wilson remained unfazed. He declared, without batting an eye, "I have spoken and it is fin—"

"No! It is not final!" Ivy interrupted loudly, wiping the tears from her eyes. There was no use crying in front of him. "You have said what you wanted to but it is not final! None of it is. Now, I want you to listen to me too!

"I have had enough of you! You cannot continue to decide my life as if I am incapable of making my own decisions. I am a grown woman and from now on, I will do as I want!"

Ivy paused, took a deep breath, and went on, "I will no longer let you, or anyone for that matter, dictate my life! From now onwards, I will call the shots in my life. I will not listen to you, nor will I go into a marriage with some lunatic for the sake of your business. Also, the baby stays so, I expect you to deal with it!"

As soon as she finished speaking, Ivy turned around and stormed out of the room, letting the door close with a bang and leaving her father stupefied.

A thought crossing through his mind, Wilson dazedly slumped into his seat. 'Did Ivy just speak back to me?'

…

Ivy sprinted all the way to her room and locked the door. She fell face down on the bed and screamed into the pillow. Her emotions were in turmoil.

"Abortion?" She could not believe that her father would think of such a thing. Let alone order it. What kind of a father was he, that he would order his daughter to get an abortion just because of a business marriage?

Ivy sat on the bed, her legs folded and placed a pillow on them. She wiped her tears using the sleeves of her top. This talk was far from over. If there was anything she knew and was sure of, it was the fact that her father was not going to give up so easily— he never did. He would not let the matter rest until he made sure that he had gotten rid of that pregnancy and that she was married to Reynolds' son, Roman, and that was something Ivy was not going to allow happen.

Ivy bit her fingers— an act that had become a habit over the years. Her body still quivered from the fear of what her father might do. She did not have much time until he would come up with an evil plan. She had to act fast before her father did something that would hurt her and the baby. It did not even matter if she might end up dying, her father would do everything in his power to be obeyed.

But… What was she going to do?

She wondered if she should run away but she could not think of a place to hide. Neither was she sure if she had the courage to.

Ivy sat on the bed, thought after thought of how to save herself and the baby traveled through her mind. While she sat there, she did not know that a plan was being made, somewhere in the mansion.

***

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, a dusty black car with a cracked windshield stopped in front of a bar. The car was small and inconspicuous among the fleet of cars on the road.

A handsome young man stepped out of the car. He had long black hair that fell a few inches below his fair neck, and a pair of almond-shaped hazel coloured eyes that scanned the area.

The man was tall, a little above 6ft, and with a muscular build. He had tapered black brows on an oval face that held no emotions, causing him to look almost like a statue.

The man was insanely handsome and would have easily passed for a celebrity or an idol if only he wasn't dressed so shabbily. His shirt, a red polo shirt with the image of a whale on it, seemed to have been used for a very long time; most of the color around the neck and back had been washed off. His black pants were fine but they seemed a little oversized for him and his shoes, a pair of white sneakers, were the only good things on him.

With hurried but organized steps, the young man walked into the bar. Since it was still a few hours before opening time, only the bartender and a few workers were in the place, doing their best to prepare for the opening.

Killian approached the bar counter.

As soon as he heard the voice, the bartender who was cleaning the cups turned to him with a frown. "How may I help you today, again?"

"I'm sorry for pestering you," Killian apologized but still asked, "Do you still have no idea about that woman?"

The bartender exhaled wearily. He dropped the cup he had been cleaning and placed the rag on the table before looking at the young man with a raised brow.

"How many times do I have to say it to you?" He frowned. "I have not seen her. Why can't you understand something as simple as that?" His voice was slightly raised, attracting the attention of a few workers who immediately came to stand behind Killian.

"Hey, Mimo, is this young lad causing you any trouble?" One asked, tapping Killian's shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

The bartender hissed. "He is not worth it."

The men who had gathered around laughed, taking turns to hit Killian on his arms and back.

"Dude has quite a good body, don't you think Reno?" Another man asked, squeezing Killian's biceps with a rigid laugh.

The man who had first spoken laughed and nodded. "Yea, he does. Pity, he's poor."

They laughed before the one called Reno turned to Killian. "Hey, boy, do you want a job? You look like you could use one," he mocked, lifting his hands to reach for Killian's head when he felt something tight wrapping around his wrist.

Reno lifted his eyes to see that it was Killian's hand that had wrapped around his wrist, and by now, the young man's hazel coloured eyes were glaring at him.

Killian, who had already run out of patience, shook his head and warned, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Reno was stunned for a second before breaking into a loud cackle. He turned to the others, pointing at Killian with his free hand.

"Hey, the boy speaks!" They laughed, finding the young man a source of pleasure. Reno turned to Killian and dared, "What if I do?"

Killian's lips curled slightly, it was the first expression that they had seen on his face since he walked into that bar and it sent shivers down their spines but they were too stubborn to back off.

"Then, I'll just show what I can do, too…" Killian drawled, letting go of Reno's wrist and pulling out a white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hands.

"Oh, yeah?" Reno smiled, folding up his sleeves and getting ready to stir up some trouble. "I'd like to see what you can do," he added, pushing Killian.

When Killian did not react and simply smiled, Reno's ego began to burn. He lifted his hands and pushed the young man again, with both hands.

"What is it— too scared to react? Hmm?" Reno teased as the others cheered. "Are you all bark and no bite, puppy?"

Killian glanced at Reno from underneath his lashes and clicked his tongue. "This puppy doesn't bark, he doesn't bite either… he only feasts on the flesh of his prey."

Reno smacked his lips. "Another threat?" He laughed. "Well, how about I give you something to feast on?"

Saying this, Reno balled his fist and swung it in the air, sending it towards Killian's face but it stopped mid flight, a second away from hitting Killian's face.

Reno's fist in his palm, Killian tilted his head to the side and smirked. "Thank you," he whispered as Reno's scream tore the silence in the bar.

With a thud, Reno fell to his knees, screaming as the others stared at him in unexpected surprise. His right wrist had been twisted out of place in the blink of an eye.

Killian looked around. "Who's next?"