Forced Marriage To The Possessive Tycoon

"Two lines."

Eleanora sat on the edge of her worn mattress. The cheap springs groaned under her weight. Her fingers trembled so violently that the plastic pregnancy test nearly slipped from her grasp. She stared at the two pink lines. Her stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot. The air in her cramped studio apartment suddenly felt too thick to breathe.

A violent crash shattered the dead silence.

The heavy wooden front door splintered inward. The cheap deadbolt tore through the doorframe, sending chunks of wood flying across the peeling linoleum floor.

Eleanora flinched, dropping the plastic stick. Her heart slammed against her ribs like a trapped bird.

Axel stepped through the ruined doorway. His expensive, custom-tailored charcoal suit looked entirely alien against the backdrop of her water-stained wallpaper. His broad shoulders seemed to suck all the oxygen out of the tiny room.

Behind him, Jayson and two massive bodyguards in black suits secured the narrow hallway. They blocked the only exit.

Axel kicked a broken wooden chair out of his path. The piece of furniture shattered against the wall. His cold, dead eyes locked onto Eleanora. Specifically, his gaze burned into the white medical mask covering the lower half of her face.

Eleanora scrambled backward. Her spine hit the cold plaster wall. Her palms pressed flat against the mattress. Panic flooded her veins, turning her blood to ice.

Axel reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out a thick stack of glossy surveillance photographs.

He threw them.

The heavy photos hit Eleanora's chest and scattered at her feet. She looked down. The high-resolution images clearly showed her entering his luxury hotel suite two weeks ago.

"My bourbon was drugged," Axel said. His voice was a low, lethal vibration that rattled her teeth. "A camera was found. And you were the only one in my room. Explain yourself before I lose my patience."

Eleanora shook her head frantically. Her breathing turned into shallow, rapid gasps.

"No," she choked out, her voice muffled behind the thick medical mask. "Karissa and Beck... they locked me in there. I didn't know it was your room."

Axel closed the distance between them in two long strides. He stepped directly into her personal space. He slammed his large hand against the plaster wall, mere inches from her ear. Dust sprinkled down onto her shoulder.

He leaned down. She could smell the faint, expensive scent of cedar and cold mint on his skin.

"You are a pathetic, calculating gold digger," Axel whispered. The sheer hatred in his tone made her stomach drop. "Did you really think a few blurry photos would make me open my checkbook?"

Eleanora's chest heaved in terror. Without thinking, her hand moved defensively. Her fingers curled protectively over her flat stomach.

Axel's sharp gaze tracked the micro-movement. His eyes narrowed. Dark suspicion clouded his features.

He turned his head slightly. His eyes scanned the small space, sweeping over the peeling linoleum floor. They landed on the plastic stick she had dropped, lying near the bathroom doorway.

The temperature in the room plummeted.

Axel's expression shifted from cold disgust to murderous rage. The muscle in his jaw ticked.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist. His large fingers wrapped around her delicate bones, squeezing tight enough to leave immediate, dark bruises.

"Ah!" Eleanora gasped in sharp pain. She pulled back, her sneakers slipping on the floor as she fought desperately to free her arm.

Axel ignored her resistance completely. He turned on his heel and dragged her forcefully toward the ruined doorway.

"Let me go!" she cried out, stumbling over the broken doorframe.

Jayson parted the way. The bodyguards fell into step behind them. Axel forced her down the dingy, flickering hallway. He dragged her into the underground parking garage. The damp smell of motor oil filled the air.

Axel shoved her hard. Eleanora tumbled into the back seat of a waiting black SUV. The tinted windows made the interior pitch black.

He climbed in right beside her. The heavy car doors locked with a sharp, echoing click.

The SUV sped out of the garage, tires squealing against the concrete. They merged onto the busy streets of Manhattan. The silence inside the cabin was suffocating.

Eleanora pressed her back against the cold leather door panel. She watched Axel pull a sanitizing wipe from a dispenser. He scrubbed his hands aggressively, wiping away the feeling of her skin with absolute disgust.

Twenty minutes later, the vehicle jerked to a halt. They arrived at a highly secure, private medical facility on the Upper East Side.

Axel grabbed her arm again. He pulled her out of the car and marched her through the VIP entrance. He completely ignored her muffled protests.

Dr. Reed, a middle-aged man in a white coat, hurried down the sterile, brightly lit corridor.

"Prepare an ultrasound room. Right now," Axel demanded. His tone left no room for negotiation.

Before Eleanora could process what was happening, she was pushed into a cold examination room. A nervous nurse forced her onto the padded table. Cold, sticky gel was squirted onto her bare stomach.

The ultrasound wand pressed hard against her skin.

On the monitor, a black-and-white image flickered to life. A tiny, rhythmic pulsing dot appeared in the center of the screen. A rapid heartbeat echoed from the machine's speakers.

Axel leaned over the examination table. His face hovered inches from hers.

"You have twenty-four hours to terminate it," Axel whispered, his eyes completely devoid of mercy. "Or I will end you both myself."