CEO's Tears Over Pregnancy Test Discovery

Quincy mentioned there was trouble at work, so naturally, Lydia asked a few questions. But he didn't want to say much, leaving her no choice but to let it go. "Alright, just come home soon," she finally said.

After they hung up, there was a knock at the door, followed by the concerned voice of the housekeeper.

"Ma'am, I've made some chicken soup. Would you like some?"

Lydia opened the door and let her in to set the soup on the table. The housekeeper was about to leave, but she hesitated, as if she had something on her mind. "What is it, Mrs. Clinton?" Lydia asked.

Mrs. Clinton hesitated for a moment before replying, "A man called earlier. When I asked who he was, he hung up right away."

"Maybe he dialed the wrong number?"

"That's what I thought too. But he called several times," she said, looking at Lydia with uncertainty. "I thought he might be trying to reach someone."

Lydia's eyes flickered with unease. Quincy hadn't come home yet, and aside from Mrs. Clinton, she was the only one in the house.

Could someone be looking for her? But how would anyone know the house phone number?

Her mind briefly wandered to Eugene, and her expression darkened. Just thinking about him put her in a foul mood.

"If he calls again, don't answer. In fact, just unplug the phone," Lydia said coldly.

The house phone was an old-fashioned model, one that still required a cord. Unplugging it would stop the calls entirely. Mrs. Clinton nodded and quickly went downstairs, likely to disconnect the phone.

Lydia took a shower, and before long, she drifted off to sleep. In the middle of the night, she stirred, feeling a faint tickling sensation. When she opened her eyes, the soft light from earlier had given way to a sky as dark as ink.

Still half-asleep, Lydia became aware of a hand lightly brushing against her. The moment she fully woke up, the hand quickly pulled back, as if caught in the act.

She recognized Quincy's silhouette beside her and spoke in a groggy voice, "Quincy? Why didn't you wake me when you got home?"

"I saw you were sound asleep and didn't want to disturb you," Quincy replied softly. "I didn't think I'd end up waking you anyway."Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

Lydia adjusted her position, resting her head on his lap. Quincy gently helped her get more comfortable, and they sat quietly together for a while.

With the faint scent of Quincy's

presence surrounding her, Lydia felt an overwhelming sense of peace. After some time, she broke the silence. "How's the situation with the rumors online?"

"I've sent legal notices to a few influencers, and we've issued a statement explaining the photos were doctored."

"Do you think... people will believe it?" Lydia asked, hesitating and feeling a wave of anxiety.

Deep down, she knew the photos were real. Eugene wouldn't stoop to something as trivial as editing photos. He had orchestrated everything carefully, using public pressure to push her into a

corner. His goal had always been to trap her.

Suddenly, Quincy's hand reached out and gently pried open her clenched fist. It was only then that Lydia noticed the crescent-shaped imprints her nails had left on her palm.

She hadn't even realized how tightly she had been gripping her hands until now, and strangely, she hadn't felt any pain.

"Don't hurt yourself over this," Quincy said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. "I'm here."

The next day, Lydia returned to the office. The online rumors had quieted down, and the strange looks she used to get from her colleagues had mostly faded too. "Good morning, Miss Lydia!" a few employees greeted her with bright smiles.

"It's been a while since we've seen you in the office."

Lydia smiled back, responding warmly to each of them.