I Was Just A Passerby Carrying His Twin Heirs Chapter 01

I Was Just A Passerby Carrying His Twin Heirs Chapter 01

One chaotic night with a complete stranger, and I ended up pregnant with twins.

I didn’t have the money for an abortion and was practically getting ready to give birth in a public restroom when neon floating text suddenly materialized right before my eyes:

[The sole heir of the Vance military lineage—a third-generation legacy! If she gets an abortion, his family line ends right here!]

I froze for three seconds. A military dynasty? Like I give a damn.

The procedure costs $5,600. Splitting it down the middle is only fair, right?

The day I marched up to his compound clutching the bill, the Metropolitan Defense Command went into full lock-down mode.

The aide’s voice tightened up.

“C-Chief… the girl says… she just wants $2,800.”

Grant Vance put his fountain pen down, his eyes cold and unreadable.

“Look into her. Find out what game she’s playing.”

What game?

I just wanted him to pay his fair share.

A fifty-fifty split. Clear enough?

The day I found out I was pregnant, I was downing my third bowl of instant ramen.

Or rather, the moment that heavy, greasy seasoning hit my nose, my stomach churned violently, and I hurled everything straight into the sink.

I stared at the soggy mass of noodles in the basin, a cold sweat breaking out across my spine.

Something was wrong.

I was the kind of person who could chug expired milk without blinking.

The last time I threw up was after half a bottle of liquor at my college graduation party.

An ominous feeling crept up the back of my neck.

I unlocked my phone and pulled up the calendar.

Late.

Twenty whole days late.

I threw on my shoes, bolted downstairs, and dropped forty-two bucks at the corner drugstore for a pregnancy test.

Three minutes later, two glaring red lines.

It hurt my eyes just looking at them.

My mind went completely blank, frozen in place for ten solid seconds.

My first thought wasn’t “Who’s the father?” but—

How much does the procedure cost?

I opened a search engine and swiped through the results.

Five thousand six hundred dollars.

Then I checked my checking account balance.

One hundred dollars.

Me: “…”

Great.

I didn’t even have enough money to kill off the problem.

What kind of nightmare spawn-point was this?

I flopped onto the squeaky single bed in my rented studio, staring blankly at the mold stain spreading across the ceiling.

That man.

The guy from that chaotic night two weeks ago.

Honestly, I couldn’t even remember his full name.

All I remembered was that it was my best friend’s birthday bash. I blacked out, and he seemed pretty hammered too.

When I woke up the next morning, he was already gone.

A matte business card was weighed down on the nightstand.

My head was pounding like crazy back then, so I shoved it into my jeans pocket and completely forgot about it.

Now that I thought about it… where was that card?