Pregnant After One Night With The S-Class Alpha Novel by Lucien Frostwood _ Novel





Pregnant After One Night With The S-Class Alpha Chapter 01

I was an Alpha, and I worked as a hitman.
After a one-night stand with an S-Class Alpha, I wound up pregnant.
Given my line of work, I had no other option but to leave the infant on his doorstep and run.
Three years later, our paths crossed again, and he stopped me before I could bolt.
"Come home with me and meet our baby boy."
I agreed, thinking it would be nothing more than a quiet, civil reunion.
But somewhere along the way, everything spiraled completely out of control.
***
I was a hitman.
Three years ago, I spent one wild night with Marcus Livingston after he had been drugged.
Half a month later, I found out I was pregnant.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath.
How the hell was a drifter like me supposed to raise a child?
After giving birth, I hardened my heart and left the newborn on Marcus' doorstep.
I ignored his heartbreaking cries and fled without a glance back.
Three years later, the organization I worked for got taken down, and I ended up scraping by as an underground fighter.
One day, I spotted Marcus sitting in the VIP section.
He didn't recognize me. He was just there to watch the matches. The little boy in his arms was glued to the ring.
My face darkened. "Is this S-Class Alpha totally clueless about being a father? Who brings a two-year-old to a place like this? Has he lost his mind?"
I cursed him in my head while pounding my opponent, my heart sinking with regret.
I should have known better than to leave the kid with him. A man that brutal in bed was hardly father material.
I won that fight effortlessly.
Over the past six months, I had built something of a reputation in this fighting ring. Aside from a few fixed matches the boss forced me to throw, I had barely lost a fight.
As I headed toward the private locker room with a towel slung over my shoulder, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes lock onto me.
It was Marcus.
He stared down at me, his gaze dark and unreadable. For a second, I almost thought he might have come looking for me.
But soon, his icy gaze shifted back to the ring.
That night three years ago, Marcus had been drugged. The lights were off, and halfway through, I had slipped him extra sleeping pills. He should have woken up after me.
I told myself there was nothing to worry about and strolled casually into the bathroom. Stripping off my sweat-soaked clothes, I turned on the shower.
The water was running full blast, but I still heard heavy footsteps outside—slow, steady, heading straight for the bathroom.
The guy stopped right outside the door, not knocking or doing a thing.
From the sound of it, he was half a head taller than me, not bad on his feet. Those measured, deliberate footsteps were clearly meant for me to hear.
I blinked.
Could it be...
I rinsed off fast and stepped out.
Marcus was leaning against the doorframe, bored out of his mind. Hearing me, he slowly looked up.
His eyes were calm and deep, his voice flat. "Have we met before?"
My blood ran cold, but I played it cool. "Stop kidding, Mr. Livingston. How would someone like me ever meet a big shot like you?"
He didn't reply. After a long silence, he suddenly leaned in close to my neck.
I instinctively stepped back, clutching my gland, every nerve on high alert. "What's wrong?"
Marcus straightened up, a cryptic laugh escaping him. "Your pheromone smells familiar."
At moments like this, I was truly grateful to my hitman parents for giving me such an unremarkable pheromone.
"Chamomile? You can smell that anywhere. Nothing special."
"Really?" He gave a meaningful smile. "My mistake then. See you tomorrow."
Then he turned and walked away without hesitation.
I wiped the cold sweat off my forehead and slumped against the wall.
Like hell I was seeing him tomorrow!
I quit that very day and moved out, getting as far away as I could.
But two days later, I ran into that pain in the ass again.

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