ISADORA’S POV

The baby clothing section was making me nauseous. Pastel pinks, sky blues, and tiny socks that could fit in the palm of my hand–if not for the fact bthat /bbI /bwas still keeping up with this lie I wouldn’t even dream ofing in here.

My eyes immediately sighted a small mirror and walked up to it, “I mean look at this gorgeous shape of mine, I should then ruin this goddess body because I want to get pregnant” I let out a small sigh.

The things you do for love.

I half–heartedly picked up a soft yellow onesie, then dropped it back onto the rack. I didn’t even know the baby’s gender, well at least I didn’t remember telling Adrian the gender so if I didn’t know how can I couldn’t pick the right dress it wouldn’t matter.

Hell, I didn’t even know why I was doing this. No–scratch that. I knew exactly why. Because I was pretending bto /bbe someone I wasn’t. And the more bt /bthought about it, the more irritated I got.

As I continued to stare at the baby outfits thinking of the perfect one to get, a thought entered my head, why don’t I call mom toe help me out here, I’ll equally get her something nice and she can also tell me how I look in all the dresses I would get today.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contactsb, /bstopping at the name that never failed to bring drama and rity

“Pick up, pick up,” I muttered under my breath as bit /brang. “Hi Momb, /bwhere are youb? /bI need you at the west wing of Bloomridge Mall. Baby section.”

“Baby section?” she asked, bewildered. “You pregnant now ior /isomething?”

“Juste,” I snapped and hung up.

30 minutester, my mom strutted into the store like she owned it, and to be honest, I was surprised she got here faster than I had imagined. Her heels

clicked on the marble floor, and her oversized sunsses sat low on her nose as she gave me a once–over.

Was sheing from a fashion show or something? Or did she hit her head and forget that she was over 40 years old because my mom knows she shouldn’t dress and act this way, anyway that’s not what was important right now.

“What’s with the emergency?i” /ishe asked, tossing her designer purse, onto ba /bnearby chair.

I crossed my arms and nodded toward the overflowing shopping cart filled with baby things. “That.”

My mom blinked, confused. “You… buying clothes for someone else’s baby?”

I sighed. “No. Adrian asked me to shop for baby stuff. For our baby, something I didn’t think would happen until a few minutes ago, and now am sorta in a panic mode.”

Her jaw dropped. “Wait, you’re pregnant?”

I hesitated. My mouth opened, but no words came out.

My mom stared bat /bme, eyes narrowing. “Don’t tell me you lied to that man.”

“I didn’t lie. I just secured my spot there, his mistress was about to tell him that she was pregnant and if I didn’t act I would have been sent out of thereb” /bbI /b

muttered.

“Isadora!” she gasped. “You told ba /bbillionaire you’re pregnant with his child when you’re not? Girl, that’s some Netflix–level drama.”

I shrugged. “He didn’t question it. He just told me to go shopping.”

She leaned in closer. “Then what the hell bare /byou doing wasting time buying baby clothes?”

I blinked. “What do you meanb?/bb” /b

b“/bbYou /bim you’re sorta panicking yet you had time toe shopping for yourself?” Mom said, using her eyes to gesture towards the shoes I had purchased earlier.

b“/bbDon’t /byou know that before you make a bold move like this you need to n everything out down to thest strawb” /b

“My friend told me the idea, I had to act fast, I didn’t really have time to n anything,” I said.”

My mom gently held me by the arm and guided me towards the chair

“I know I messed up, that’s why I called you, so now please can you help me out with a solution?” I said

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious what you should do now? If you’re not actually pregnant, then you better fix that immediately. You need to sleep with him, like, now, and make sure it’s real.”

I froze. The words hit me like ba /bp.

My mom continued, oblivious. “You have a man who’s powerful, rich, and emotionally damaged. That’s the perfect recipe for lifelong security if you y it right. But you need something to anchor you to him. A baby is the anchor.”

I looked down at the cart full of baby onesies and booties. It was all for show. I was just putting on a performance, trying to y ba /bbrole /bI didn’t audition

for.

“It’s not that easy,” I said quietly.

My mom scoffed. “It is that easy. You’re overthinking it. Adrian might be tough, but he’s still a man. Seduce him. Make him want you. Get pregnant for real. Then he’ll never let you go.”

I swallowed hard. She made it sound so transactional. Like it wasn’t a baby we were talking about, but a designer handbag I needed to secure before the next girl got her hands on it.

“Mom, do you ever think… maybe I want him to actually care about me? Not just the idea of a family. Not the obligation. Me.”

My mom gave me a long, hard stare. “And what makes you think he ever will if you don’t make yourself irreceable first?”

Silence hung between us. She wasn’t wrong. She rarely was when it came to this stuff. But the truth hurt more than I wanted to admit.

She flipped through the racks of dresses until her eyesnded on a fiery redce gown. She pulled it out and grinned. “Start with this. bIf /bthat bdoesn’t /bscream ‘I’m your baby mama and your worst decision all in one,’ I don’t know what does.”

I smirked, half in disbeliefb, /bhalf in admiration. My mom could always make a nightmare sound like a fairytale.

We walked toward the fitting rooms, her linking her arm with mine. She leaned in close. “Operation Baby Trap is officially a bgo/b.”

Iughed, but it was hollow. I didn’t know what disturbed me more–that she was serious or that she didn’t think about considering it.

As I stepped into the fitting room with the red dress draped over my arm, I looked at myself in bthe /bmirror. The girl staring back bat /bme looked fierce, wless, and dangerous.

But inside, I wasn’t sure whol was anymore.

b2/3 /b