Chapter 8

"Look over there! That couple is absolutely perfect together!"

In the break room, several female coworkers huddled by the window, whispering and pointing toward the parking lot below.

Sophia Lowell's fingers tightened slightly around her coffee cup.

Through the glass, she immediately recognized that tall, straight-backed figure. Ethan Roscente was wearing the same black shirt from last night, and the woman clinging to his arm was none other than Isabella Valentine, the socialite princess of Shanghai's elite circle.

"Sophia, you're with Mr. Roscente every day. You must know the inside scoop, right?" Colleague Daisy Zhang leaned in with a suggestive look. "Rumor has it Miss Valentine is the Roscente family's chosen daughter-in-law."

Sophia took a sip of coffee, her expression unreadable behind the rising steam.

"I only handle work-related matters," she said calmly, setting the cup down. "Mr. Roscente's personal affairs are none of my concern."

"Really?" someone scoffed. "But you're his personal secretary."

The emphasis on the last word drew a round of knowing laughter.

Sophia's fingers paused briefly as she straightened a stack of files.

"Last week when Mr. Roscente went to Paris, he took Zachary Evans as his assistant." She lifted her head with a professional smile. "If you're so curious, why not ask him?"

The break room fell silent.

The women exchanged glances, but no one dared to respond.

Sophia picked up her folder and walked out. The moment the elevator doors closed, she finally dropped the act, leaning wearily against the wall.

Six months ago, she had been a top student in architecture school. An unexpected turn of events cost her the job offer from the design firm, yet somehow landed her the position as Ethan Roscente's secretary.

Ding—

A notification chimed from her phone. A text from an unknown number.

Her face paled as she read it.

The pregnancy test from last night was defective? The results might be inaccurate?

She rushed back to her office, grabbed her coat, and bolted out the door.

Twenty minutes later, Sophia stood in a pharmacy restroom, staring at the pregnancy test in her hand.

Two bright red lines burned her eyes.

Pregnant.

She was really pregnant.

A cold wind tangled her hair as she stood on the street, her fingers unconsciously drifting to her still-flat stomach.

This couldn't have come at a worse time.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

"Hello, is this the maternity hospital? I'd like to schedule an abortion."