Chapter 10 – The Power Play.
The Albanian Tower pierced the clouds like a blade forged for the gods—sleek, unforgiving, and unshakable. Thirty floors up, in the penthouse office of King Albanian, the tension was thick. Not because of chaos or failure—but because the man himself was too silent. Too composed. Too focused.
Dressed in a tailored obsidian suit with thin platinum cufflinks gleaming like daggers under the light, King stared out the massive glass window, eyes trailing across the city skyline. His sharp jaw was motionless, but his thoughts ran rampant beneath the surface.
He couldn't get her out of his head.
That mysterious woman from the hotel.
The way she barged into his suite, her drunken defiance. The faint lavender scent on her skin, the fire in her eyes—everything about her was carved into his senses like a brand. The bracelet she left behind now rested in his inner drawer, and each time he looked at it, a ghost of that night whispered through his bloodstream.
Who are you… really?
A knock on the door drew him back to the present.
Wayne entered, holding a sleek tablet. "Sir," he said crisply, "you should get moving for your meeting with Barclay Group."
King didn't respond immediately. He turned away from the window, his eyes icy but alert.
"Did you trace her?" he asked, voice like a velvet blade.
Wayne froze for a moment. "We checked the hotel's security footage, but she used a different name and paid in cash. No records, no digital trail. Whoever she is—she's either extremely lucky or… professionally trained."
King narrowed his eyes. "Who on earth is she?"
Wayne blinked. "Do you see her face?"
King didn't answer. He didn't have to. If the infamous anonymous fixer and tracker known as Brown was real—and if this woman was her—then even the most sophisticated systems wouldn't be enough to uncover her.
Not even his.
He walked to his desk and opened the drawer, gazing at the slim silver bracelet with the small etched charm that had come off her wrist. The subtle floral design whispered of elegance. Strength. Secrets.
There was a buzz on his encrypted phone. A message from Wayne's secondary line:
"Target spotted. Possibly linked to Sophia. Investigating further."
He closed the drawer.
"Prepare the XUV700," King said sharply.
Wayne straightened. "You're driving yourself?"
"Yes. I want privacy before I face Barclay."
"As you wish."
Wayne bowed slightly and exited, while King removed his blazer and tossed it onto the chair. Beneath, his white shirt clung to the sculpted lines of a man who refused to surrender to time or trauma. The years of poison had broken lesser men—but not him. Not fully.
Still, the unexpected rush of feeling again—from her touch, her kiss, her chaotic presence—it unnerved him.
It reawakened him.
In the bathroom, King ran cold water over his wrists and looked at his reflection. For years, he felt half-alive. The poison had dulled his senses, cut his virility, made him a hollow shell of the king he once was.
But now…
He could still feel her lips against his. The maddening softness. The daring heat.
The man in the mirror no longer looked broken.
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Outside, the Mahindra XUV700 purred like a beast. The diesel engine roared to life as King stepped inside, alone. He didn't need a driver today. He needed space. Reflection. Power.
The luxury SUV—worth over ₹24 lakhs and outfitted with custom bulletproof paneling—cut through the streets like a monarch through peasants. Inside the silent cabin, King opened a secure file on his dashboard screen: details on the Barclay Group's expansion into African and Asian banking systems.
The meeting today was more than just business. It was dominance.
James Barclay, the chairman of Barclays Bank, wasn't an easy man to impress. But King Albanian wasn't here to impress. He was here to partner.
The goal was clear: secure a high-value strategic loan to fund a cutting-edge invention that would skyrocket the Albanian Group's valuation—already nearing $500 billion—and, more importantly, cement his name in the future, not just the legacy of his family.
Because King Albanian didn't want the family legacy. He had built his own empire from nothing. Brick by brick. Mistake by mistake. Blood by blood.
And he wouldn't let his greedy brother Kwok, who never worked a day in his life, sink it all with ambition fueled by laziness.
---
At the same time, back in a posh but less grand part of the city…
Valerie lay on a chaise lounge on the hotel balcony, the wind brushing against her bare feet. Her head throbbed with a dull ache from the hangover, her throat dry as parchment.
Her phone buzzed again.
16 missed calls from "Stepmother 😒."
She groaned.
"Damn."
Sophia had already started flooding her inbox with voice notes, cursing and demanding to know why she had backed out of the plan.
Valerie listened to the most recent one.
"You think you can walk away, Valerie? You think you can humiliate us in front of Mr. Han and just disappear? Don't forget, we own you. Your contract is still binding. I'll take your silence as defiance."
She deleted the message with a smile.
This is the best decision of her life, those two needs to face life in a hard way for treating her so badly.
Defiance?
She will avenge her mother.
They hadn't seen anything yet.
She stepped back inside, unbothered. She had wiped her tracks clean. No camera, no digital fingerprint, not even scent—except that she had underestimated how her presence had lingered on King.
Still, she had more important things to do than worry about a mistake that felt… almost right.
---
Meanwhile, at the headquarters of Barclays Asia Division, King Albanian arrived.
The security guards didn't ask for ID. The valet didn't touch the door.
He was expected. Feared. Respected.
James Barclay, the graying lion behind one of the world's largest banks, stood to shake King's hand.
"I've heard the Albanian name since I was a boy," he said. "But I hear you built your fortune alone."
King's lips lifted slightly. "Names are inherited. Power is earned."
They both sat, and the meeting began.
Numbers danced across screens. Patents were discussed. Technology. Renewable energy. Cryptocurrency integrations. And finally—the invention.
King pulled out a confidential brief on a device that could revolutionize data protection and biometric tracking.
James's sharp eyes lingered on it. "You don't want to sell this, do you?"
"I want to partner," King said, "with a bank bold enough to invest in the future before the world catches up."
A moment of silence passed. And then James smiled.
"You have it."
---
Back at the Albanian Group's board level, Sophia raged.
Mr. Han had threatened to sever ties and blacklist them unless someone—anyone—salvaged the deal Valerie was meant to complete.
Fine.
If Valerie wouldn't sell herself, she would.
Sophia looked at the mirror and practiced her smile. Calculated. Seductive. She had one chance left—and King Albanian himself was her new target.
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Back in his office, King returned, and the moment he stepped into the hotel suite once more to retrieve a left-behind document—it hit him again.
That scent.
It stirred something deep, ancient, primal.
He froze.
Wayne watched from the door, confused.
King turned slowly and said, "Make this suite permanent. I'll use it when I need… peace."
Wayne nodded slowly, more baffled than ever. "Sir?"
King didn't explain. He never did.
And as he closed the door behind him, he whispered to himself,
"She's not gone. I'll find her."
But when he stepped out again, the scent faded.
And with it, the feeling of being whole.
Fantastic! Here's your teaser for Chapters 6–10 of Pregnant with the Billionaire's Child—designed to hook readers and build anticipation for what's coming next:
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🌹 Teaser: Chapters 6–10
Secrets were shared. A kiss was stolen. A man broken by poison found fire again… all in one unforgettable night.
Valerie never meant to end up in his room. But one wrong door opened a new destiny—one that left behind more than a bracelet and a scent; it left a mark on the most untouchable man in the city.
King Albanian, CEO of a billion-dollar empire he built with his own hands, woke up changed—burning with questions, obsessed with the mysterious woman who vanished without a trace.
But Valerie is no ordinary woman. She's the ghost you can't find.
Because she is Brown, the world's greatest tracker... and she knows how to disappear.
While Valerie hides from a stepmother set on exploiting her, King steps into a storm of power, legacy, and ambition. His grandfather wants to see him. His brother wants to steal everything. And Sophia? She wants the deal Valerie ran from—and she'll use her body to get it.
Meanwhile, the Barclay Group waits with a golden opportunity—and King must walk in, not just as a businessman, but as a king who knows what he wants. A king reborn.
But no matter the business, no matter the power plays...
Nothing compares to the fire left behind by the woman who dared to kiss him and disappear.
And when the scent fades…
His hunger only grows.