Pregnant and Abandoned: My Billionaire Ex Regretted Leaving When the Lawsuit Revealed the Truth

Julian’s laugh was a dry, hollow crack in the silence of the boardroom. He didn't look at the evidence. He didn't look at the stock ticker bleeding red on the wall behind him. He looked at Sarah’s thrift-store maternity dress, his lip curling in disgust.

"Corporate homicide?" He tossed the binder onto the polished mahogany table as if it were infected. "This is pathetic, Sarah. Even for you."

He smoothed the lapels of his three-thousand-dollar suit, regaining his composure. The board members shifted uneasily, but Julian held up a hand, silencing them.

"My ex-wife is emotional," Julian declared, his voice smooth as oil. "She’s confusing a tragic genetic defect with a conspiracy theory. It’s a desperate shake-down."

He turned to Marcus, stepping into the lawyer's personal space. Julian smelled of sandalwood and invincibility.

"And you," Julian sneered. "You think you can bleed me? I spend more on catering for a single lunch than your entire firm makes in a year."

Sarah felt the heat rise in her cheeks, a mix of shame and fury. He was right about the money. She had three dollars in her pocket. He had armies of attorneys on retainer.

"We don't want a settlement, Julian," Marcus said, his voice terrifyingly calm. He didn't step back. "We want a jury."

Julian checked his watch—a gold Patek Philippe—signals of boredom. "You’ll never get to a jury. I will bury you in motions until you can't afford the paper to print your response. I will drag this out until your child is in kindergarten, or…"

He glanced at Sarah’s stomach with cold, dead eyes.

"Or until nature takes its course."

Marcus reached into his pocket, his thumb hovering over his phone. "Is that a threat, Mr. Blackwood?"

Julian leaned in, his face inches from Sarah’s. The mask of the benevolent CEO slipped completely. His eyes were pure steel.

"It’s a fact," Julian hissed, his voice low but vibrating with venom. "Do you really think anyone is going to wipe out my company over one deformed brat? The world needs my drugs, Sarah. It doesn't need your mistake."

Silence. Absolute, suffocating silence.

Julian smirked, thinking he had won. Then he saw a red light blinking on the heavy conference phone in the center of the table.

"Ms. Perkins?" a horrified voice crackled over the speakerphone—the secretary in the outer office, connected to the entire floor’s PA system. "Did... did everyone hear that?"

Julian froze. The blood drained from his face as he realized the line had been open the entire time.