Flash Marriage To The Vengeful CEO

Debora's hands shook so violently that the plastic stick tapped against the edge of the porcelain sink. Two solid pink lines. The air vanished from her lungs. She sucked in a harsh breath, the smell of cheap bleach and mildew burning her throat. Her left hand flew to her flat stomach, pressing hard against the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Her heart slammed against her ribs, a frantic, erratic rhythm that made her dizzy. "Debora! Get out of there!" Marlene's shrill voice pierced through the thin wooden door, accompanied by the heavy thud of a fist. "You've been in there for twenty minutes!" Panic, cold and sharp, spiked in Debora's chest. She fumbled with the pregnancy test, her slick fingers struggling to grip it. She unrolled a long strip of scratchy toilet paper, wrapping the plastic stick over and over until it looked like a thick, white bandage. She shoved the wrapped bundle deep into the small trash can, burying it under crumpled tissues and empty toothpaste tubes. She turned on the cold tap, splashed water onto her pale cheeks, and took a shuddering breath. Her fingers were still trembling as she reached for the doorknob and turned it. Before she could pull the door open, it was violently shoved inward. Marlene barreled into the cramped bathroom, her heavy frame nearly knocking Debora into the bathtub. Marlene's eyes, lined with smeared black pencil, raked over Debora with pure disgust. "Worthless," Marlene spat. "A paroled convict living under my roof. You bring nothing but shame to this family." Debora kept her head down, her jaw clamped shut. She turned her body sideways, trying to squeeze past her foster mother and escape into the hallway. But Marlene stopped. Her eyes narrowed with malicious suspicion as she noticed Debora's defensive posture. Without warning, Marlene kicked the small trash can with her heavy boot. The plastic bin tipped over, spilling its contents across the scuffed tiles. Amidst the crumpled tissues and empty toothpaste tubes, the thick, white toilet paper bundle rolled out, looking entirely out of place. Debora's stomach plummeted. She lunged forward, but she was a second too late. Marlene bent down and snatched the bundle. She ripped the toilet paper away. The two pink lines glared under the flickering bathroom bulb. The silence in the bathroom was suffocating. Marlene's face morphed from confusion to shock, and then to a deep, ugly shade of red. A piercing shriek ripped from Marlene's throat. Her hand shot out, her fingers twisting into Debora's hair. "Ah!" Debora gasped, the sharp pain radiating across her scalp. Marlene yanked hard, dragging Debora out of the bathroom. Debora stumbled, her knees hitting the scuffed hardwood floor of the hallway. Marlene didn't stop, pulling her all the way into the dimly lit living room and shoving her hard. Debora crashed to the floor beside the frayed sofa, her shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. Burt, her foster father, paused the television. He pushed himself out of his recliner, his bushy eyebrows pulling together. "What the hell is going on?" Marlene slammed the pregnancy test down on the stained coffee table. "Your precious charity case is pregnant! A convicted felon and now a whore!" Burt's face hardened into a mask of fury. He crossed the room in three heavy strides and stood over Debora, pointing a thick, calloused finger at her face. "Who is it?" Burt roared, the smell of stale beer washing over her. "Who is the bastard? You listen to me. You get rid of it, or you pack your trash and get out of my house today." Debora bit down on her lower lip until she tasted copper. She curled her body inward, her arms wrapping tightly around her stomach. If they kicked her out, she would have no registered address. Her parole officer would be notified. She would go straight back to prison. "I'm not getting rid of it," Debora whispered, her voice shaking but her grip on her stomach iron-clad. "You ungrateful bitch!" Marlene raised her hand, her palm aimed right at Debora's cheek. Debora squeezed her eyes shut, her muscles locking as she braced for the sting. A sharp, loud buzz from the doorbell shattered the tension. Marlene's hand froze mid-air. Burt cursed under his breath, turning away from Debora and stomping toward the front door. "I swear to God, if it's another salesman," Burt muttered, yanking the front door open. Debora opened her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. A man stood on the porch. He was tall, his broad shoulders easily filling the doorframe. He wore a dark, tailored suit that looked expensive but lacked any flashy logos. His face was carved from stone-sharp jaw, straight nose, and eyes the color of a frozen ocean. Those icy blue eyes bypassed Burt completely, cutting through the dim living room to lock directly onto Debora, who was still huddled on the floor. The man didn't introduce himself to Burt. He didn't even look at him. His deep, gravelly voice resonated through the small house, carrying zero warmth but absolute authority. "I am the father of that child. And I am here to marry her."