Her Swedish Billionaire’s Baby

She’d called Alison as soon as she was in the house, demanding answers about her dad and her sister had told her about the TMZ article. It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened; but it was damned close. She didn’t know if she should just fess up to Professor Zhang now or ignore the whole thing and hope for the best.

Samara set the leash down on the little table in the entrance, walking into the living room she collapsed on the couch. A nap was just what she needed right now. A good, long nap. Samara closed her eyes, letting sleep quickly over come her.

Samara’s eyes shot open, quickly rolling off the couch she made her way as fast as her pregnant body would let her to the bathroom, hand clasped over her mouth. Dropping to her knees in front of the toilet Samara threw up the contents of her stomach.

Once she was done, she shakily stood up, rinsing her mouth and splashing some cold water on her face. It was strange, she didn’t really have morning sickness anymore, but for the past few days she had suddenly been getting sick more, as well as it felt like the energy was just being drained from her, more so than it had been before. She just didn’t feel good overall, she was just constantly tired, and weak. No matter how much she slept, she just woke up tired. She figured it was just from the pregnancy, lots of expecting parents had a rough patch in their pregnancy, she had read about it. Just one point in your pregnancy that seemed to take more out of you than any other part. Sighing Samara walked out of the bathroom, heading to the kitchen to start making supper.

The next day Samara woke up to morning sickness. Once she stood up to rinse her mouth out she had to suddenly grasp the bathroom counter as a wave of dizziness overtook her. Taking deep breaths, she sat down on the toilet seat, waiting for the dizziness to pass; once it had, Samara stood up, rinsed out her mouth, and made her way downstairs to make herself some breakfast, do some work, then take Bear out for a walk.

Honestly, she knew she shouldn’t probably be taking Bear on walks, not alone and away from home; not with potential paparazzi, errant fathers and vindictive baby daddies about, but she needed to get out of the house, needed the fresh air and exercise.

Samara instantly regretted the decision when a wave of dizziness overtook her, so strong her vision started spotting. Sitting down carefully on the grass Samara took deep breaths, willing herself not to pass out. There was no one around, not at this time of the day. Everyone was at work, if she passed out there probably wouldn’t be any help. Once she was able to see without spots in her vision or feeling like she was going to pass out, Samara stood up carefully. Bear was nudging her, clearly concerned about her owner. Samara patted the pup, reassuring her.

Once she was standing up fully Samara steadied herself, glad the dizziness was gone. In it’s wake though it had left a massive headache. It felt like jackhammers were going off in her head. Clenching her eyes shut Samara righted herself before opening them and heading back home immediately.

Once she was through the front door, Samara let Bear off her leash, heading for her and Alison’s room. Glancing at the bedside clock once she laid down on her and Alison’s bed Samara groaned, it was already too late to start supper. Hopefully Alison would be willing to order out. At the moment though, Samara didn’t feel hungry at all. The only thing she wanted to do was sleep.

Samara jerked awake, feeling a hand gently shaking her. Turning her head slightly she was able to see her sister looking at her concerned. Alison was saying something but Samara was still too much asleep and out of it to understand. Instead she mumbled a slurred “I’m fine,” and “order yourself something, not hungry” before she fell asleep; ignoring her sister’s concerned voice.

Later that night Samara rolled into Alison’s warm, comforting embrace. Happy that Alison didn’t try to talk to her, and simply went to sleep. Samara was still to tired for any sort of conversation.

The next morning Samara woke briefly, just enough to feel Alison’s lips on her forehead, and her sister whispering a soft “I love you” before she fell asleep again.

Heat, cold. How can those two things mix? Heat and cold aren’t suppose to mix, aren’t to be together. Flashes of pain. Lighting, some sort of light. Someone was laughing, she knew that laugh. She had spent years listening to that laugh. Listening as it talked to her, yelled and insulted her, tried to beat and break her down in every physical and psychological way possible. It couldn’t be though. She was at home, she was with Alison. She was at her and Alison’s home, pregnant with her first child. He couldn’t be here. There? Was there a “there?”

The only time cold and heat mixed so well was when she was in the Cadillac, surrounded by the heat blasting from the a/c as cold air seeped in under the door, probably sulking from another scolding from her dad. By the one who was cold. She couldn’t be in the Cadillac though. She was free. She was free…she was free…. Was she?

Suddenly Samara screamed, as pain erupted from her body. She couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t see what was happening to her. God, did she even have eyes? Had they already been removed? In that moment there was nothing else but pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. It was the everything, the only thing she knew. The pain, hammering behind her eyes, white flashes through her head. Heat, pain, God the sweltering heat, the brushes of cold.

Gasping Samara blinked her eyes open rapidly, looking to the digital clock, nearly two in the afternoon. Pain hit her. She had a massive headache, the pain was nearly unbearable. Rolling out of bed she almost collapsed from dizziness, placing her hand to her head to try and put pressure, try and ease the pain, stop the dizziness; she realized that there was heat on her hand. Focusing she realized it was from her, she was burning up. Stumbling to the bathroom Samara put all her weight down, balancing on the counter. Her vision was spotting, she could hardly think from the pain.

She heard her father laughing at her, laughing at how weak she was, how pathetic. Samara tried to turn, get to the phone, get help. Alison. She had to call Alison. Alison. She couldn’t think; vision blacking. Samara gasped for breath, feeling like she was drowning. She was drowning, she couldn’t breath. She couldn’t breath. Her knees gave out suddenly, falling.

Blackness was taking over, suffocating her. Samara couldn’t think, it was just pain. Laughing. Her vision blurry, blacking, she saw a face looming over her. Grinning down at her, mocking her. Bjorn. Samara curled in on her stomach, hardly able to think, to focus, but knowing, protect the baby. She couldn’t feel anything suddenly, as the darkness overtook her.

*****

She came to in an ambulance with Amy at her side, talking sharply to the paramedics in that imperious tone that she could command sometimes. Samara tried to speak but found that she couldn’t so she tried lifting her head.

“Lie back down miss. Lie back. Everything is fine. All is well; no sudden movements please,” one of the medics said. He had the most piercing gray eyes she’d ever seen and she just wanted to stare into them and forget. She frowned, feeling that something was wrong with that. The eyes shouldn’t be gray. They should be violet…

*****

“Hello?”

“Mr Fredriksen?”

“Yes, this is he.”

“I’m calling for Amy Whitaker. She asked me to tell you that there was an emergency with your baby…?”