The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife

Liam's POV

A month had passed since Hazel and I shared that desperate moment in the elevator. The memory of her touch still burned through me, especially after being apart for two agonizing months. She continued to slip away from me like smoke, using Owen and Stella as her early warning system. They'd signal whenever I emerged from my office or headed to Damian's room, giving her the perfect escape route.

Evelyn had returned for another week with us. Saturday would bring our critical audit meeting, one that could finally put this nightmare behind us. But today held a different kind of torment. I had to escort Clairemont to her gynecologist appointment for the first ultrasound. The thought made my skin crawl.

The appointment loomed at day's end, turning every hour into torture. I couldn't concentrate on anything, my mind churning with dread. I'd been avoiding that insufferable woman completely, forcing our lawyer to play messenger boy for every communication. The poor man had practically become her personal assistant. Julian Clairemont had grown strangely quiet lately, which set off every alarm bell in my head. I'd already warned Damian and Allen that something felt wrong.

At four o'clock, Owen knocked on my door. Time for my descent into hell. I grabbed my jacket with the enthusiasm of a man walking to his execution. When I reached the clinic, the harpy was already there with her mother, launching herself at me like a missile. I sidestepped smoothly, watching her crash into the couch behind her.

"Ouch, darling, what a playful game. I could have been hurt," Clairemont whined in that voice that could shatter glass.

"This isn't a game. Stop throwing yourself at me," I snapped, catching the receptionist trying to hide her laughter.

I didn't acknowledge Clairemont's mother with so much as a nod. Instead, I positioned myself by the window, studying the street below until the doctor called Clairemont's name.

The doctor approached with an oily smile, hand extended like we were old friends.

"You must be the proud father. Congratulations on this wonderful journey."

I stared at his outstretched hand without moving. Something about this man set my teeth on edge. His enthusiasm felt rehearsed, artificial. My instincts rarely failed me, though I wondered if my hatred for Clairemont was coloring my judgment.

"Can we begin, Doctor? My time is limited," I said coldly.

The examination room felt like a stage set for some twisted performance. The doctor rattled off an endless list of questions to Clairemont before turning his attention to me.

"So, daddy, how are you handling those pregnancy cravings? Is mommy keeping you on your toes?"

I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat. My expression could have frozen hell itself as I responded.

"She's not my wife. Whatever cravings she has are none of my concern or interest."

The doctor's jaw dropped while Clairemont rushed to explain we'd be married within the month. I rolled my eyes, wishing I could vanish into thin air.

Clairemont disappeared behind a curtain to change, then positioned herself on the examination table. When the ultrasound began, the doctor's excitement reached nauseating levels.

"There it is. Your beautiful baby."

"Oh, how thrilling. Look, sweetheart, our baby has your strong features already," Clairemont shrieked while her mother dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

"For the love of God, woman, it's nothing but a gray smudge on a screen." My irritation leaked from every pore, and this circus showed no signs of ending.

"Don't speak about our child that way, Liam," Clairemont screamed. She always screamed.

"Let me share something truly special with you both," the doctor announced with revolting enthusiasm, adjusting his equipment. "You're about to hear your baby's heartbeat."

The room filled with rapid, rhythmic sounds while Clairemont exploded into applause and squeals. Dear God, this woman terrified me. She and her mother created such a spectacle that other patients probably thought someone was being murdered.

"Doesn't this move you to tears, honey?" Clairemont asked, flashing those horse teeth at me. What temporary insanity had possessed me to sleep with this creature?

"No, I'm not moved. I never wanted a child with you. I'm here purely out of obligation," I replied bluntly.

"Liam." Another shriek. "You're going to damage our baby's emotional development before birth."

"Excellent. I'll add therapy costs to my financial responsibility contract." I felt nothing for her or this pregnancy. The realization disturbed me because it wasn't natural. A father should feel something when hearing his child's heartbeat. I'd always dreamed of fatherhood, but this situation left me completely cold. With that troubling thought, I walked out.

The appointment suffocated me. Every minute in that room felt like drowning. The doctor prescribed vitamins, ordered multiple tests, and instructed us to schedule another appointment in thirty days.

At the reception desk, I handled payment and scheduling while the receptionist worked efficiently. Along with my receipt, she slipped me a card reading "call me" with her phone number. Interesting. The receptionist was making her move, but perhaps I could use this to irritate Clairemont. She gave me a professional smile that I returned. Something about her face seemed familiar, like I'd seen her somewhere before, but the thought evaporated the moment I left the building.

"Sweetheart, you're taking mommy and me to dinner at that exquisite French restaurant," Clairemont announced with such confidence that I actually laughed.

"You're delusional if you think I'm going anywhere with either of you," I replied mockingly.

"Liam," she screamed. Another tantrum brewing.

"Liam, you must at least drive us home. I already dismissed our driver," Natalie, her mother, interjected. Another woman who thought she could command me.

"Since you don't want to think I'm completely heartless," I walked to the curb and flagged down an approaching taxi. It stopped immediately. I opened the door with theatrical courtesy. "Your chariot awaits. Taxi service will transport you anywhere your hearts desire."

They stared at me in complete shock. I left the door hanging open, walked to my car, and drove away. In my rearview mirror, I watched Clairemont having another meltdown while her mother shoved her into the taxi. For the first time all day, I laughed genuinely, feeling my tension finally dissolve.

I drove straight to Damian's house where he'd organized a poker game with the guys. He'd planned this distraction after noticing my foul mood all day. Everyone had already arrived when I walked in. Noah immediately handed me a glass of soda with ice and lime.

"So Liam, how did your date with Rosemary's baby go?" Owen asked with a smirk.

"Gentlemen, you cannot imagine what it's like dancing with the devil herself," I said, remembering the bizarre afternoon.

I recounted the street scene when leaving the clinic. The guys laughed until tears streamed down their faces. Then I described the appointment and my instinctive dislike of the doctor. Finally, I shared my complete emotional disconnection from this pregnancy.

"You know, guys, I've always wanted to be a father, especially after losing my parents. But I feel absolutely nothing, zero emotion, for this baby," I concluded.

"Well, man, it's probably because you despise the mother," Adrian suggested.

"I'm not sure. I feel such overwhelming love for Leo. My heart nearly explodes when he runs toward me with those little arms stretched wide for a hug. I'm so proud of that boy. But for my own supposed child, I feel nothing."

"Maybe because Leo is Hazel's son and you love her," Noah observed.

"I don't know. What I feel for Leo is enormous. The way my heart lights up when he's with me, the pure joy I experience. But with this baby, when the doctor played the heartbeat today, I felt absolutely nothing. Shouldn't I feel something? Happiness? Excitement? Anything?"

"My father always said when mom was pregnant with me, he went crazy with joy and cried over everything baby-related," Damian shared.

"Same with my dad. That's why this troubles me so much," I admitted.

"Liam, what if this child isn't yours?" Owen asked, staring into his glass.

"That's definitely possible," Damian agreed. "From what you've said, you were extremely drunk at that party. Are you certain you actually had sex?"

"That psychotic Clairemont is absolutely capable of pulling such a scheme," Owen stated.

"We've considered that possibility, but the lunatic refuses DNA testing because they claim it could cause miscarriage," I explained.

"But isn't there a safer method for this test?" Adrian asked.

"I honestly don't know," I said.

"Send me that witch's doctor's information. My uncle is a physician and hospital director here in the city. I'll ask him for guidance," Noah offered, surprising me.

"That help would be incredible. I'll text you the name right now." I typed the message and sent it immediately. "If there's a way to do DNA testing without pregnancy risks, I could pressure her."

"Exactly what my uncle will clarify for us. I'll arrange lunch with him," Noah said enthusiastically.

"And you won't believe this. The receptionist actually hit on me," I remembered, laughing. "She slipped me her phone number."

"Good Lord, did your mother bathe you in honey instead of soap?" Owen mocked. "You must be made of pure sugar, Liam. Women just swarm you."

We erupted in laughter, and the guys' relentless jokes knew no boundaries. My day had been absolute hell, but my friends managed to salvage my evening completely.