Tessa's POV
The man rose from his chair with an effortless grace, his movements fluid, almost predatory. My breath caught as he walked toward me, each step deliberate, his presence overwhelming.
He was breathtaking. And, he looked to be in his mid-thirties.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and impeccably dressed in a tailored black suit that fit his body like a second skin. His chiseled jaw was dusted with the perfect amount of stubble, his dark hair styled in a way that looked both polished and recklessly untamed. But it was his eyes—sharp, piercing, and impossibly dark—that made my stomach twist into a knot.
I'd seen attractive men before. But none of them had ever made me feel like this.
I clenched my fists at my sides as he stopped in front of me. Close enough that I could smell the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne—rich and warm, laced with something dangerous.
When he extended his hand, I hesitated.
"Ian Banks," he said smoothly, his voice deep, cool, controlled.
I stared at him, my heart slamming against my ribs. No way.
Banks.
The name echoed in my mind like a warning siren. Ian Banks. Tyler's boss. The CEO of Apex Motors. The man my husband had spent years groveling before, desperate for a promotion.
And now, he was standing in front of me, introducing himself as the father of my child.
I forced myself to breathe, to keep my expression neutral as I finally reached out, slipping my hand into his. A mistake. His palm was warm, firm, sending an electric jolt up my arm.
"Tessa," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.
Ian's grip lingered for a second longer than necessary before he released me, his dark gaze assessing me with unnerving intensity. "Have a seat."
I didn't move, my body still locked in a battle between shock and disbelief.
Ian's lips twitched, as if he found my hesitation amusing. Without another word, he placed a firm hand on my lower back and guided me toward the couch. The touch burned through the thin fabric of my blouse, making me painfully aware of just how close he was.
I sat stiffly, my hands folded in my lap, watching as Ian took the seat across from me.
"What would you like to drink?" he asked, his voice calm, unreadable.
I swallowed, my throat dry. "I, um… I don't know."
Ian arched a brow. "Not a coffee person?"
I shook my head. "Not really."
A pause. Then, "What are you craving?"
The question caught me off guard.
I hesitated, suddenly feeling stupid. But the craving had been nagging at me all day, and I hadn't expected to be asked so directly.
"…Ice cream," I admitted reluctantly.
Ian's lips twitched again, as if he found my answer amusing. Then, without looking away from me, he addressed the woman who had escorted me in. "Get her ice cream."
I blinked. "What?"
The woman nodded and left the room without hesitation, as if fetching ice cream for a guest in a billionaire's office was perfectly normal.
I turned back to Ian, narrowing my eyes. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to."
The simplicity of his response unsettled me.
I exhaled, shaking my head. "Listen, Mr. Banks—"
"Ian."
I ignored that. "I came here to tell you that I plan to terminate the pregnancy."
His expression remained unchanged. "I know."
I frowned. "And I wanted to apologize."
His brows lifted slightly.
"This… this wasn't supposed to happen," I continued, my voice tightening. "I have a husband. And as much as I hate his guts, I'm still a married woman. It wouldn't be right to carry another man's child."
A long, heavy silence stretched between us.
Then Ian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Don't terminate it."
His tone was gruff, firm, leaving no room for argument.
I blinked. "What?"
His dark eyes locked onto mine, unwavering. "Don't terminate the pregnancy."
I let out a sharp laugh. "You don't get to tell me what to do with my body."
"I'm not telling you," he corrected smoothly. "I'm asking."
I scoffed. "And what exactly do you think is going to happen? That I'll just have this baby and hand it over to you?"
Ian studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I'll give you whatever you want."
I laughed again, shaking my head. "You can't give me what I want."
He tilted his head slightly. "And what do you want?"
I swallowed, forcing myself to hold his gaze. "A happy family."
Ian's lips pressed together, something flickering in his eyes. Then, slowly, he nodded. "You're right. That's not something I can give you."
His honesty caught me off guard.
"But," he continued, "I can give you something else."
I frowned. "Like what?"
He leaned back, his voice impossibly calm. "A lawyer."
I stared at him. "A… what?"
"A lawyer," he repeated. "A good one. One who will help you separate from your husband."
My heart slammed against my ribs. "Why—"
"And," he added smoothly, "one hundred million dollars."
I froze.
My ears rang.
I stared at him, completely speechless.
Ian held my gaze, his expression as cool and composed as ever. "Carry my child, and that's what I'll give you."
A stunned silence settled between us.
I exhaled sharply, forcing out a disbelieving laugh. "You're joking."
"I don't joke," Ian said smoothly.
I shook my head, my pulse racing. "That's… that's insane."
"Is it?"
"Yes!"
He tilted his head, amusement flashing in his eyes. "You're carrying my child, Tessa. Whether you planned to or not, it's happening. I'm simply making sure you benefit from it."
I swallowed hard, my mind spinning.
One hundred million dollars. A lawyer. A way out of my marriage.
It sounded too good to be true.
It was too good to be true.
And yet…
I watched Ian, my stomach twisting, because despite everything—despite the insane offer, the unexpected power he wielded, and the fact that he was my husband's boss…
There was something about him.
Something that made me feel like, for the first time in a long time…
I wasn't trapped.