Chapter 3: Fatal Gamble
Stella's POV
Two weeks after I'd sabotaged those condoms, I was still buzzing from my twisted power trip. Every morning, I'd wake up wondering if today was the day—the day I'd finally have leverage to make Mayor Thaddeus Carver pick me over his shiny new reputation.
I was shelving new arrivals that Tuesday afternoon when she walked in.
Seraphina fucking Montgomery.
I recognized her instantly from the local paper's front page last month—famous author returns to her hometown after snagging some big literary award. Our podunk town loved milking stories like hers, even if they'd probably treated her like dirt back in the day.
She glided through the library like she owned the place, auburn hair flowing, decked out in expensive threads. That trench coat? Straight out of a glossy magazine—butter-soft leather, tailored to perfection. The kind I'd never even window-shop for.
I tried to blend into the background, crouching behind the biography section to organize books. If I kept my head down, maybe she'd grab what she needed and bounce.
No such luck.
"Excuse me," she said, her voice crisp and polished—like she'd gone to fancy private schools. "I'm looking for stuff on local history. Anything on the founding families?"
I stood up, brushing dust off my thrift-store sweater, avoiding her eyes. "Local history's right over here," I muttered, leading the way.
As she browsed the dusty shelves, I felt her sizing me up like a lab rat.
"You know," she said casually, flipping through a leather-bound book on the town's early settlers, "Mayor Thaddeus Carver's been a huge help with my research. Such an intriguing guy, don't you think?"
My blood ran cold.
"I... wouldn't know," I stammered.
She let out a light, tinkling laugh that made me want to punch a wall. "Oh, come on. Small town like this? Everyone knows everyone's business."
Her smile had a predatory edge, setting off every alarm in my head.
"He's given me some killer insights into the area's history," she went on, all honey and venom. "We've spent hours chatting over dinner. Total gentleman—picked me up in that sleek BMW, took me to Romano's. You know the spot?"
Of course I did. It was where he'd taken me on our first date, back when I fumbled with the forks in my cheap dress. Now he was wining and dining this uppity bitch at our place.
"Such a charmer," she added. "But I guess you'd know that already... Stella, right?"
The way she spat my name—like it left a bad taste—made me want to disappear.
She turned to face me fully, those sharp green eyes scanning my secondhand clothes, my chewed nails, my slumped posture.
"You're the librarian he mentioned," she said dismissively. "How... quaint."
My face burned. I wanted to throw it all in her face—what Thaddeus and I had been up to while she was off playing big-shot author in some fancy city. But I just nodded and mumbled, "Let me know if you need anything else."
"Oh, I think I've got everything," she replied with that toxic smile. "Thaddeus has been more than enough help. We're grabbing dinner again tonight, actually. He's great company."
She checked out her books like royalty, leaving me feeling like gum on her designer heels.
That bitch knew. Somehow, she knew about us, and she was staking her claim.
Three days later, I was hunched over the toilet in my cramped bathroom at 4 a.m., hurling for the third time that week.
'Please,' I prayed to whatever god listens to desperate girls like me. 'Let this be it.'
Mrs. Henderson was still snoring through the thin walls, so I snuck out to the 24-hour pharmacy in my PJs and flip-flops, looking every bit the hot mess buying a pregnancy test at that hour.
The kid at the counter didn't even glance up from his phone as I slapped down my crumpled bills and snatched the box.
Back home, perched on the bathtub edge with shaky hands, I stared at the stick like my life hung on it.
One line popped up right away. Then, slowly, a second one faded in.
Two lines. Holy shit, it worked.
I was pregnant with Mayor Thaddeus Carver's baby.
For a split second, I felt invincible—this was my ticket out, my way to make him take me seriously. You can't ghost the mother of your kid, right?
I'd never been so nervous in my life.
Standing outside Thaddeus's apartment with grocery bags digging into my arms, heart pounding, I took a deep breath and knocked.
He looked surprised opening the door—we usually planned hookups ahead.
"Stella? What's up?"
"Wanted to surprise you," I said, trying to sound confident. "Brought dinner."
He stared for a beat, then his face softened into that old smile that reeled me in years ago. "Come on in, sweetheart."
I busied myself in his kitchen, cooking his favorite pasta to steady my nerves. He sat at the breakfast bar with a glass of wine, watching me, and for a minute, it felt normal—like we were a real couple.
"You're quiet tonight," he said as we ate by candlelight. I'd dug them out of his junk drawer for the full rom-com vibe.
"I got something to tell you," I whispered.
He raised an eyebrow. "Sounds heavy."
It was. I met his eyes and blurted, "Thaddeus... I'm pregnant."
The words hung there like a bomb. I watched his face, bracing for the fallout.
His wine glass clinked hard on the table. Warmth vanished, replaced by ice-cold suspicion.
"What'd you say?"
"I'm pregnant. We're having a baby."
He shoved back his chair, standing fast. "You did this on purpose."
"I don't know what you—"
"Don't bullshit me, Stella." His voice was low and lethal. "You messed with the condoms, didn't you?"
My mouth went dry. How the hell did he know? "I thought you'd be happy—"
"Happy?" He barked a laugh, no humor in it. "You think I'd be thrilled you tricked me into this?"
Tears streamed down my face. "I love you. I thought a baby would—"
"Would trap me?" His hands shook with fury. "Force me to marry you like some desperate trailer trash?"
The words gutted me. I hugged my stomach protectively. "We could be a family. Get married, raise the kid—"
"I'd never marry you, Stella." He spat each word like a knife. "Not now, not ever. You're just a dirty secret—that's all you'll be."
Then his phone rang.
He checked the screen, and his whole vibe shifted—anger gone, replaced by something soft I'd never seen aimed at me.
"Gotta take this," he said. I knew exactly who it was.
"Hey, beautiful," he answered, turning away like I wasn't there. His tone was warm, affectionate—the one he used to save for me. "Nah, it's cool. Just... handling something. Yeah, I can be there in twenty. Been looking forward to it."
He hung up and faced me, eyes dead cold. "Get out."
"Thaddeus, please—"
"Get the fuck out of my apartment. And don't come back."
I wanted to fight, to scream he owed us this. But his face said it all—no love, no decency left.
I grabbed my purse with trembling hands and headed for the door. One last glance: He was fixing his shirt in the hall mirror, prepping for her. For Seraphina fucking Montgomery and her perfect world I'd never touch.
"I hope she's worth it," I whispered.
He didn't even look up. "She is."
The door slammed like my dreams shattering. I stood in the hallway, hand on my flat belly, feeling utterly alone.
I'd gambled everything. And I'd lost.
