My Billionaire Boss Swapped My Pills With Sugar To Trap Me — But He Underestimated Me
Part 2
My gilded cage instantly reinforced itself with invisible titanium.
Craig brought in a top-tier obstetrician on the syndicate payroll to monitor my progress daily.
As the months passed, the pregnancy amplified my heavy curves, making me softer and distinctly maternal.
Society had spent my entire life conditioning me to feel ashamed of my large frame.
Yet Craig worshipped my expanding waistline as if I were a Renaissance goddess, showering me with custom jewelry and maternity gowns.
He rarely let me out of his sight, treating me like the most valuable asset in his empire.
However, the syndicate did not stop spinning just because its boss had found a new obsession.
Tensions within Craig’s inner circle boiled over as rival factions aggressively intercepted our shipping routes.
His second-in-command, Brian, a lean, calculating man who had grown up alongside Craig, was increasingly vocal about his disgust.
Brian viewed me as a massive, glaring vulnerability.
To him, I wasn’t just a maid who had secured the boss’s bed; I was a soft, fat distraction making their leader dangerously weak.
One suffocatingly hot Friday in late July, Craig was forced to attend an emergency sit-down at a heavily guarded warehouse to negotiate a ceasefire.
He left me at the estate with a detail of his most trusted men, explicitly ordering that I was not to leave the third floor.
I was resting in the master suite reading a book when the power to the entire mansion abruptly cut out.
The hum of the central air conditioning died, and an impenetrable, terrifying silence blanketed the estate.
My heart began to race when the emergency backup generators failed to kick in.
The heavy oak doors of the master suite swung violently open.
Brian stepped into the room holding a silenced pistol, his shoes leaving dark crimson tracks on the carpet.
Two rogue guards dragged a bleeding, unconscious loyalist into the hallway, dropping him unceremoniously.
Brian sneered, his cold eyes raking over my heavy, terrified form as I struggled to push myself up from the plush armchair.
He spat that he was fixing a problem, mocking me as the boss’s prized cow sitting in the dark.
Ice water flooded my veins as he revealed his deal with the rival faction for full control of the shipping routes.
All he had to do was hand over the syndicate’s heir and the woman who had ruined his best friend.
I demanded to know where Craig was, clutching my pregnant stomach in pure panic.
Brian laughed coldly, declaring that Craig was walking into a deadly ambush and was already a dead man.
The primal, visceral instinct to protect my unborn child overrode every ounce of paralyzing fear.
I sobbed loudly, purposely forcing my voice to tremble as I faked a clumsy, heavy stumble backward.
Allowing my knees to buckle, I dropped my considerable weight heavily to the floor near the massive stone fireplace.
Brian scoffed at my pathetic display, completely lowering his guard as he stepped closer to grab me by the hair.
He didn’t see the woman who had spent two grueling years invisibly memorizing every architectural blind spot of this estate.
As he pointed the gun at my stomach, laughing at my apparent weakness, I felt my hand brush against the solid iron fire poker—would I be fast enough to strike before he pulled the trigger?
