The Billionaire's Unexpected Heir

In front of the CEO's office, Elena Gray tightly clutched a report, too nervous and hesitant to knock. It was lunch break, and all her colleagues in the secretarial office had gone to eat. Taking advantage of the empty room, she dared to come and speak to the CEO about something important.

She glanced down at the report again. It was a B-ultrasound sheet, with two lines of text clearly printed at the bottom: Early pregnancy, intrauterine gestation, embryo viable, 6 weeks+.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, her mind involuntarily recalling the absurd night she had spent with the CEO last month. That evening, after accompanying him to a business dinner with Mr. Ethan Voss, CEO of Voss Group, she had sent him back to the Grand Plaza Hotel. As she turned to leave, she was pulled into a warm embrace. Both were intoxicated, and one thing led to another—something that should never have happened.

Afterward, neither of them mentioned it. It was only when her period didn’t come that she went for a checkup and discovered she was pregnant. She thought the CEO, as the other party involved, had the right to know, and she wanted to hear his thoughts.

Summoning her courage, she knocked on the door. A deep voice inside said, "Come in."

Lucas Stone, CEO of Stone Group, looked up as she entered. "It’s lunchtime. Is something wrong?" he asked.

Elena looked at him—his chiseled features and sharp gaze exuding authority. She bit her lip, placed the report on his desk, and pushed it gently toward him. "Mr. Stone, could you take a look at this…" she said softly.

Noticing her hesitation, Lucas picked up the sheet with a frown. His brows furrowed as he scanned it. "Is this yours?" he asked instinctively.

"Yes," Elena replied weakly. "During the dinner with Mr. Voss last month, I sent you back to the hotel…" She let her voice trail off.

Lucas remembered that night. He hadn’t been completely drunk—he knew exactly what he had done. In his inebriation, he had mistaken her slender figure for Caroline, his late fiancée.

Elena watched him silently study the report, her heart pounding. "Mr. Stone, you know I have a good reputation. That night… it was my first time," she said in a barely audible whisper.

She stole a glance at him and continued, "I’m not here for anything else. You deserve to know as the other party. Plus, I… I don’t know what to do."

Lucas nodded slightly. Elena wasn’t sure what the nod meant. Why wouldn’t he say anything? What was he thinking?

After a moment, Lucas put down the report. "Let’s discuss this after work. Find a place to talk properly. For now, go have lunch," he said, pushing the sheet back to her.

Elena thought that made sense. She still had work in the afternoon, and any discussion now might distract her. She picked up the report. "Okay, we’ll talk after work."

Lucas didn’t look at her, just nodded again.

Relieved, Elena turned to leave. Lost in thought, she didn’t notice someone entering and collided head-on with the visitor. The report fluttered from her hand.

She looked up to see Mrs. Amelia Stone, Lucas’s mother. "Mrs. Stone, I’m so sorry!" she exclaimed.

Amelia, in her fifties, elegant and kind, smiled warmly. "It’s quite all right." Her eyes fell on the report at her feet.

Elena’s heart skipped a beat. She reached to pick it up, but Amelia was faster.

Amelia’s eyes widened in surprise as she read the report. "Ms. Gray, is this yours? Your name is on it," she said.

Flushing with embarrassment, Elena could only nod.

Lucas looked over, his gaze meeting his mother’s. Amelia paused, then looked between her son and Elena, her voice filled with excitement. "This child… is it my son’s?"

Elena was taken aback by Amelia’s enthusiasm. She didn’t know what to say, so she stayed silent.

Lucas walked over and said to Elena, "You can go now."

Relieved, Elena hurried to leave, but Amelia grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. "I knew it! You two need to explain this to me," she said with a smile.

Seated on the sofa, Amelia looked at her son still standing. "Come over here! Do I need to invite you? This is a huge occasion—we need to discuss your wedding. The baby can’t wait!"

Elena felt dizzy. What was happening? Mrs. Stone, were you misunderstanding something?

Lucas sighed and sat across from them. "Mom, this is between me and Ms. Gray. Please stay out of it."

"I’d stay out if there were no child," Amelia said, beaming at Elena’s stomach. "But now that there’s a grandchild involved, I must intervene."

Elena glanced at Lucas’s darkening expression and ventured, "Mrs. Stone, Mr. Stone and I… we didn’t plan to get married."

"Not get married?" Amelia turned to her son, furious. "You got her pregnant and won’t take responsibility? Are you even a man?" She smacked his shoulder twice.

Elena winced as Lucas took the blows in silence, shooting her a cold glance.

Amelia paused, checked the time, and stood up. "Let’s have lunch first. After the civil registry opens this afternoon, you two will get married."

"Wh—what?" Elena’s eyes widened. "Mrs. Stone, this is too sudden…"

"None of that," Amelia said, holding her hand. "I know about your family situation. Don’t worry about your mother’s medical bills. Once you’re married to Lucas, I’ll cover them."

The offer was tempting. Elena’s family was poor. Her father, Michael Clark, had cheated and divorced her mother when she was in high school, and they had struggled to make ends meet. Her mother, Lila Miller, had worked hard to send her to college, only to fall into a coma from a mysterious illness two years into her career, burning through savings in Central City Hospital.

If she married Lucas, her mother could get treatment. How could she let her mother die?

Firmly deciding, she nodded at Amelia, avoiding Lucas’s gaze.

The afternoon sun blazed mercilessly as Elena Gray followed closely behind Lucas Stone, stepping out of the imposing City Hall building. The scorching rays pierced through the delicate fabric of her silk blouse, sending a warm flush to the nape of her neck that she could not shake. The marble steps beneath their feet radiated heat like a furnace, and the sleek heels of her stilettos slipped slightly on a sun-drenched patch of polished stone, forcing her to clutch the cold wrought-iron railing for balance. Lucas strode ahead without a glance back, his bespoke charcoal suit jacket barely fluttering in the faint breeze, his commanding presence casting a long shadow that seemed to swallow the brightness of the day.

Elena squinted against the intense sunlight, blinking away the afterimage of his broad, confident shoulders. Fragments of the morning’s surreal events played in her mind like a fractured film reel—the bored clerk reciting the vows in a monotone, Lucas’s ink-stained fing