“Robbie, I... I’m pregnant.”

The words tasted like blood as they left my mouth, soaked in the weight of fifteen days’ worth of torment. I had rehearsed this moment in silence, staring at walls, mirrors, and ceilings. But I hadn’t prepared for his reaction.

Robbie looked at me with cold, detached disdain. “So? What do you want me to do about it?”

My voice faltered. “It… it’s–”

I couldn’t breathe. Whatever delusion I’d been clinging to cracked under the force of that indifference. Was he really going to pretend that none of it had happened? That the nights, the promises, the marking, the bonding... that it was all just nothing?

He stepped forward slightly, his tone flat but sharp like glass. “It’s what?”

His eyes, those storm-grey eyes I once found comfort in, cut into me like blades. 

I froze. 

Why the hell couldn’t I speak? 

I hated myself for submitting to him, for believing that maybe he cared. I knew what he was, an Alpha who didn’t commit, who used Omegas and discarded them when the thrill wore off. But still, I let him in. 

I loved him.

I’m seventeen, alone, and abandoned by my family when I was tested as an Omega. 

And now this.

What crime had I committed to deserve this?

Tears stung my eyes. I refused to let them fall, especially not in front of him. My heart twisted in a way I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I’d meant nothing to him. Not even this child was enough to make him look at me like I was human.

I turned to leave.

But his voice, soaked in mockery, sliced through the silence.

“What, no more drama? You came to beg for money, didn’t you? What’s wrong, too ashamed to ask now? Don’t worry. I’ll make it easy. Get rid of it. I’ll pay. Just don’t dump your mistake on me.”

My legs stopped moving.

What?

His money?

As if throwing cash at me would erase everything.

Would his dirty money stop people from calling me a whore?

Would it undo the gossip, the isolation, the stares?

Would it fix the broken pieces inside me or rebuild the life he shattered?

It was almost laughable how Alphas like him thought money solved everything.

The maniacal laugh burst from my throat, soaked in madness. My tears finally spilled, hot trails sliding down my cheeks and soaking my shirt.

Robbie’s eyes widened. “Have you lost your mind?”

I looked up, still laughing bitterly. “I guess I have.”

I felt hysterical. 

“Tell me something, Robbie,” I whispered, voice trembling. “Can your money buy back the two years I wasted loving you? Can it make me forget the nights I spent waiting for you to feel something real? Can it erase your scent from my skin?”

He flinched. 

That pretty, arrogant face of his twisted like he was the one in pain. 

What a joke!

He’d lose nothing: his name, his power, the long line of admirers panting to be his next toy.

And me, just another discarded Omega with a ruined future.

I stared at him through blurred vision, my whole body shaking. I looked him straight in the face and smiled a smile that only happens when your soul has cracked in half.

“Your money might buy you everything, Robbie,” I said, my voice raw and shredded, “but I’m not for sale. Keep your filthy bills. Maybe one day, if you're lucky, they’ll buy you love as well.”

Before he could speak, I turned and walked away.

I didn’t look back. 

I didn’t need to see his face. 

That day, I swore to never crawl again.

Neither for him, nor anyone else.

I would live, not just for myself, but for the tiny life growing inside me. 

I would fight, and I would survive. 

My pain would not be the end of me.