Page 28 of Trapped By the Cartel

Chapter 13

Elliot

The table tennis ball whizzed past me, bouncing off the wall behind me and rolling to a stop near my feet. I bent down to pick it up, using the moment to compose myself and push away the rising panic threatening to consume me. I forced a smile onto my face as I turned around, tossing the ball back into play.

Damon smacked it effortlessly, sending it flying across the net towards me. I lunged forward, swatting it back with slightly less grace than usual. Our game continued, each shot executed with practiced ease, our laughter filling the air as we played.

But beneath the surface, my mind raced, my stomach churning with anxiety. Something was seriously wrong—and it wasn't just my terrible hand-eye coordination. No, it was something else, something I didn't even want to think about.

I hadn't bled since we started sleeping together. Sure, I had always been irregular, but days months without even a hint of my period? That was unheard of. Even scarier, I had taken every precaution possible to prevent pregnancy. Damon and I had both gotten tested; we used condoms religiously; hell, I was even on birth control pills.

Except for that one time, our first time…

But I didn't want to remember that, so how was it possible that I still felt queasy, my chest tender, and inexplicable fatigue dragging at my limbs?

The only explanation was too terrifying to consider—that somehow, despite all our efforts, I was carrying Damon's child.

My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I tried to focus on the game, on the sensation of the racket hitting the ball, on the sound of Damon's deep, rumbling laugh. Anything to distract from the whirlwind of fear and denial spiraling through me. But it wasn't working.

"Hey, you okay over there?" Damon called out, concern etching lines around his eyes as he paused mid-swing. "You look a little pale."

Shit. Had I been that obvious? Probably, I immediately thought.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine!" I chirped, forcing another bright smile. "Just a bit tired, I guess."

His expression softened, and he walked around the table, pulling me into a tight hug. "Why didn't you say something earlier?" He chided softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "We don't have to keep playing if you're not feeling well."

I melted into his embrace, drawing strength from his warmth and solid presence. If only he knew the real reason behind my sudden pallor…

He was always so worried about me. His love for me was genuine.

"No, no, I'm fine, really," I insisted, pulling back slightly. "Let's finish the game. I need the distraction."

He studied me for a moment longer before nodding reluctantly. "Alright, but if you start to feel worse, we're packing it in, understood?"

"Yes, alpha," I teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Now come on, let's see if you can beat me fair and square—or cheat your way to victory like usual."

The tension in his shoulders eased, and he grinned, playfully smacking my ass as he returned to his side of the table. "Well, well, well. Someone's finally learning to give as good as he gets."

Our rally resumed, but my thoughts remained elsewhere, consumed by the daunting prospect of potentially being with child. How would Damon react when he found out? Would he resent me for trapping him with an unwanted baby? Or would he accept it with open arms, eager to bring another child into the fold? Or was it his plan all along?

As much as I hated to admit it, the idea of carrying Damon's child filled me with a strange sense of pride and possessiveness. It felt primal, almost savage, to imagine growing round with his seed inside me. But along with those heady emotions came a wave of fear—fear of the unknown, fear of losing what precious little independence I had managed to carve out for myself within this world of alphas and omegas.

What if I couldn't handle fatherhood? What if I was terrible at it? What if I put the baby in danger?

And then there were the practical concerns—the logistics of raising a child in a house full of naked men, the potential consequences of bringing a new life into a world as dangerous and unpredictable as the one we inhabited…

However, part of me was sure that if I were really pregnant, Damon would make sure that my living conditions were better. So maybe there wasn't so much to worry about.

No matter which direction my thoughts took, they inevitably circled back to the same question: Was I truly ready to become a parent?

I knew I needed to confront my fears head-on, to address them with Damon instead of bottling them up inside. But howcould I possibly voice these doubts and worries aloud without sounding petty or insecure?

With a heavy sigh, I hit the ball a little harder than intended, sending it careening wildly towards Damon. He reacted swiftly, his reflexes catching it mere inches from the ground. He looked up at me, surprise etched into his features.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, Elliot?" He asked, concern lacing his words once more. "You've gone quiet again, and your shots are getting sloppy."

"I… uh…" I stammered, scrambling for an excuse. "I guess I've just got a lot on my mind, you know? All this pack stuff, figuring out where I fit in…"

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