PART 6 - "Boardroom Blowout"
There's something wild about the final week before a corporate holiday party.
People stop pretending.
Dress codes loosen.
Mouths get slick.
And secrets?
They slip through silk blouses and between clenched teeth like steam under pressure.
The air in the office was thick with it.
Ever since Marcus sent that damn text - I know your secret - I'd been on high alert. Not scared. Not even anxious. Just... aware.
Aware that someone was playing in my garden.
And I was ready to dig a grave.
Scene: Monday - 9:17 AM - Conference Room
I stepped into the weekly marketing meeting wearing a tailored emerald green jumpsuit that fit like it was stitched onto my curves. My belly still flat, but my breasts - whew - plump with promise, practically begging for a scandal.
Marcus sat across the room. Legs spread. Arms draped lazily over the chair. That same damn smirk playing on his lips. Devon was late.
Typical Monday.
"I'm surprised you're still here," Marcus said, loud enough for the room to catch the shade.
I didn't blink. "Why? Jealous I'm still wanted?"
He chuckled darkly. "Mmm. I just figured your... condition would slow you down."
Eyes turned.
Someone gasped.
He said it.
Out loud.
Scene: Devon walks in.
He pauses. Looks around. Everyone's stiff. Marcus is grinning. I'm deadly calm.
Devon's eyes meet mine.
"What did I miss?"
Before I could open my mouth, Marcus spoke.
"Just offering congratulations. Word is, she's pregnant."
Devon didn't move. Didn't blink. He walked - slow and steady - to Marcus, leaned down, voice low and lethal.
"You wanna repeat that?"
Marcus leaned back. Still cocky.
"I said, congratulations. On the... baby."
The room was dead silent.
Then Devon cracked his neck.
"Oh, so we're doing this here?"
Scene: Corporate Holiday Party - Friday Night
The whole office gathered in a swanky downtown loft. Champagne flowed. Fake laughs filled the air. Glitter dripped from the chandeliers like the lies people told themselves.
I wore a black satin gown with a plunging neckline. My baby bump just starting to round the silk, my heels dangerously high, my walk unapologetically powerful.
Devon stood beside me, dressed in a burgundy velvet suit, black turtleneck, and Cuban links that made women weak.
We were the damn moment.
Until Marcus showed up.
With Lisa. On his arm.
The room practically split in two.
One half gasped. The other stared.
Lisa looked smug. Marcus looked lit. Devon looked like a volcano wearing cologne.
Lisa clinked her glass loud enough to draw attention.
"We just wanted to say, no matter how messy things got, it's the holidays! No hard feelings. New beginnings!"
I raised my glass and smiled.
"To new beginnings," I said. "Let's toast to women who can't keep men and the men who try to stir pots they can't handle."
Marcus laughed, but it was forced.
Devon leaned in, his voice ice-cold.
"You brought her here to make a point?"
Marcus shrugged. "Just enjoying the view."
Devon grinned - then clocked him.
Literally.
One punch. Jaw clean. Lisa screamed. Marcus stumbled, crashing into the dessert table. Mini cheesecakes flew. Wine glasses shattered.
The room exploded.
I stood there sipping champagne while security pulled them apart. Devon's knuckles bruised, his breathing heavy, eyes still on me.
"Sorry, baby," he growled, "I told you I wasn't sharing."
Scene: Next Morning - My Place
Devon sat at the kitchen island, knuckles bandaged, shirtless, sexier than sin.
I stood in a robe, baby bump now undeniable, a bowl of strawberries in my hand.
"Do you know how many policies you broke last night?" I asked, grinning.
"Only the ones that mattered."
I fed him a berry, slow.
"They suspended him," he said between chews. "He's gone. And Lisa? Quiet. HR's tired of her. They're cleaning house."
"Good," I said. "Now we can finally breathe."
He stood, walked behind me, hands cradling my belly from behind.
"You're all I care about," he whispered into my neck. "You. And this baby. The rest? Just noise."