The CEO's Downfall: Betrayed by the Doula

"Cleo, grab my hospital bag for me?" Sweat beaded on Piper's forehead. She forced a tight smile. The hospital consent form knocked the wind out of me.

My fiancé's name—Caleb's signature—screamed from the family line. "So glad you made it. Work traps my husband.

He keeps pacing the hallway on business calls." I played the perfect premium concierge doula and pressed a cool towel into her palm.

The diamond on her collarbone hijacked my vision. Caleb designed that exact pendant for my proposal last month. "Gorgeous, right?

My husband designed it." Piper caught my stare and rubbed the gemstone. "He promised me a massive destination wedding in Bali the second this baby drops." Static roared in my ears.

The man who begged for a childfree life with me paced outside this exact door. Waiting for his baby. With another woman. Chapter 1 I pressed the damp towel into her hand.

My eyes remained glued to the diamond resting on her collarbone. I knew every facet of that stone.

Just last month, Caleb’s fingertips trembled as he fastened the clasp around my neck. He claimed he had sourced the rough diamond from Antwerp. A oneofakind custom piece.

Reserved strictly for his future wife. "Cleo? Are you okay?" Piper hissed in pain, looking up at me. I forced a smile. "I'm fine.

Let me wipe your sweat." She took the towel and pointed to the bag at the foot of the bed. "Could you open that for me?

My husband packed it with my clothes." I reached out and unzipped her hospital bag. A folded sticky note slipped out.

It was Caleb’s distinct handwriting, the same script I’d stared at for seven years. "Piper, thanks for your hard work.

When the baby arrives, I'll take you to a private chalet in the Swiss Alps." Beneath it were more notes. "Did the baby kick today?

I can't wait to meet our little one." "I hoarded thirty boxes of your favorite macarons.

Take your time eating them during postpartum." All feeling drained from my fingers. "Isn't my husband so romantic, Cleo?" Piper's eyes sparkled. "He doesn't talk much, but he always sneaks a handwritten note into my bag.

He says digital texts are too cold. Handwritten notes have real warmth." That was exactly what Caleb used to say to me.

Five years ago, when we first started dating and lived in a freezing apartment, he slipped a handwritten note into my wallet every single day.

Later, when he got rich, he claimed he was too busy. Typing was just faster.

Chapter 2 "That's my husband's lighter." Piper took the sleek metal from my hand. "He never used to smoke. But my pregnancy stressed him out. He takes a drag every now and then.

I told him to quit. He swore he did, but he still carries this everywhere." My lungs tightened. It was the very first gift I ever bought Caleb.

Our initials sat engraved in the silver. Now, a puffy cartoon sticker was plastered over the metal. Hiding my name.

Piper gripped the lighter and let out a dramatic sigh. "He’s perfect, honestly. Just spoils me rotten.

He won't even let me load the dishwasher." Caleb never touched a cigarette around me. He claimed the smell made him nauseous.

For seven years, that lighter was nothing but a milestone birthday present. Now he sparked up for her.

And he buried my name to do it. "By the way, Cleo," Piper giggled behind her hand. "Do you have a boyfriend?" I offered a single, stiff nod. "I do." "Oh, I love that!" She snatched my wrist, her grip warm. "Does he want kids?" Breathe.

Three years ago. A Tuesday morning. Two pink lines on a plastic stick. I handed Caleb the test.

He dropped to his knees, wrapped his arms around my legs, and buried his face against them, his shoulders heaving with sobs. He choked on his words. He came from nothing.

His tech startup was bleeding cash. He couldn't even make payroll. Tears tracked down his jaw as he looked up at me. "Just wait. Please. Let me build this company.

Let me give our baby a real life first. Can we just wait?" My chest caved in at his panic. The very next day, I drove myself to the clinic. Alone. Cold stirrups.

A blinding surgical light. I bit through my bottom lip until I tasted copper, bleeding out on that sterile paper while the doctor scraped my womb empty.

Now, his firm was filing for an IPO. He finally had his money. He finally had his baby. It just wasn't mine. "Cleo?" Piper tilted her head, her brow furrowed.

I forced my frozen lips to move. "Him? He's terrified of kids. He swore he only wanted a childfree life.

Just the two of us." "Oh my god, what a massive red flag!" Piper gasped. "My husband is the complete opposite. He practically begged for a baby. He grew up in the foster system.

He never had a real family. He’s obsessed with building his own. He already paid the deposit for an elite private preschool.

He's just waiting for our little one to get here." Caleb wasn't a foster kid. He had parents. He had a hometown. His seed funding didn't come from hard work, either.

It came from me. I sold my late father's estate to bankroll his dream. He fed her a tragic backstory. He fed me a future that didn't exist.

He gaslit us both. "Cleo, where did you go?" Piper tugged on my scrub sleeve. I dropped my gaze to the linoleum floor. "Nowhere.

Just remembered someone." I turned to the sink to pour her a cup of ice water. Shielded by my body, I pulled out my phone. Click. The hospital consent form. Click.

The custom lighter. Click. The handwritten sticky notes. My eyes snagged on the pillowcase. I pinched a long strand of dark hair, the white root follicle still attached.

I rolled it into a tissue and shoved it deep into my pocket.

My shift ended at nine, and the hospital's automatic sliding doors hissed shut behind me, spitting me out into the cold night air just as my phone buzzed. Caleb. "Hey, baby.

Insane day. I just stepped out of the boardroom." His voice dropped to a hushed, exhausted rasp. But he couldn't muffle the background noise. Ding.

A sterile PA chime bled through the receiver. He was standing less than two hundred yards away from me.

Chapter 3 "Cleo, are you there?" "Yeah." "How many doula shifts did you pull today? You exhausted?" "I'm fine." "Stop burning yourself out. Your health can't take it.

The second this IPO clears, you're done working. I'll take care of you." Piper had said he fed her the exact same line. "Cleo, I have to stay late at the office.

I need to comb through these VC term sheets one more time. Eat without me. I left some of that bone broth I made earlier today in the fridge. Heat it up." The call clicked off.

I stared at the "Husband" caller ID glowing on my screen. A bitter chuckle fell from my lips. I shoved the phone back into my pocket. I went straight home and ignored the fridge.

Caleb hoarded thirty boxes of vanilla macarons for Piper's postpartum cravings. He probably boiled that broth for both of us in the exact same pot.

Thirty minutes later, the deadbolt turned. Caleb stepped inside. He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and dropped his chin onto my head. "Freezing out there.

The office heater died again," he rasped. "I only feel alive when I'm holding you." He pressed his lips against my temple. "Thank god I have you.

The second I see you, all that networking exhaustion just evaporates." I kept my mouth shut tight.

He guided me to the sofa and forced me to sit. "Did you drink the broth?" I shook my head. "Why not?

I simmered that for two hours specifically for you." He stood up and headed toward the kitchen to heat it himself. His dress shirt sleeve slid up his forearm.

A braided red string—a superstitious charm for protecting a pregnancy—clung to his wrist. "Cleo." He glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes dripping with fake devotion. "Once the IPO closes, let's go straight to the courthouse.

Deal? I figured it all out. We're doing the destination wedding in Bali. You always wanted Bali, right? I already set everything up." Piper bragged about her Bali wedding, too.

He really mastered his schedule. Two brides. One honeymoon. The exact same timeframe. My silence drew him back into the living room.

He pulled me against his chest and buried his nose into the nape of my neck. "Cleo, are you upset about something lately?" "No." "Don't lie to me.

You think I can't read you?" He kissed my earlobe. His palm slid under the hem of my shirt. Acid clawed up my throat. My stomach convulsed.

I shoved him hard against the coffee table and sprinted to the bathroom, dropping to my knees. Dry heaves wrecked my chest. "Cleo!

What's wrong?" He hammered his fists against the locked door. "Did you get food poisoning? Open the door!

Let me see you!" I pressed my burning cheek against the freezing porcelain tiles, gasping for air. His recent quirks flashed behind my eyelids.

For six solid months, he locked himself in the study at two in the morning to make calls. He swore he negotiated deals.

But Piper just confirmed he stayed on the phone to lull her to sleep every single night. Another wave of brutal nausea hit me.

I gagged until hot tears spilled down my face. "Cleo, please! Open the damn door!" Caleb's voice cracked with panic. I gripped the door handle, hesitating.

A sharp ringtone shattered the chaos outside the bathroom. Chapter 4 Silence stretched.

The sound of his heavy breathing vibrated through the wood. "Cleo…" "A crisis just blew up at the firm. The VC guys are demanding our metrics right now. I have to go in.

Get some sleep. I'll fix this and rush straight back. Two hours, max." The front door slammed shut. Piper’s due date loomed over this exact week. He wasn't coming back tonight.

My spine scraped against the bathroom tile. Gravity dragged my body to the floor. Hot tears soaked into my collar. Morning broke. The apartment stayed empty.

My phone buzzed with his text. "Trapped at the hotel negotiating with clients all night. I'll make this up to you the second this IPO launch is over." A hollow laugh escaped me.

I left him on read. A notification pinged from my doula agency app. A direct request. VIP Maternity Suite. Piper.

The client note glared on the screen: "The doula from yesterday was fantastic. I want her back." I pushed open the hospital room door.

A tripod held a phone on her nightstand, its recording lens pointed straight at the bed. Piper beamed and waved me over. "Cleo!

You made it!" I forced my facial muscles into a neutral mask. "How are you feeling today?" "Okay.

Just a little suffocated in here." Her eyes locked onto mine. "Could you pour me a cup of hot tea from the carafe?

My throat is killing me." I turned toward the beverage station and filled a ceramic mug. A faint electronic hum buzzed from the tripod. I glanced over my shoulder.

Piper still wore that soft, gentle smile. "Careful, Cleo. It's boiling." She reached out for the mug. Then, she deliberately flicked her wrist.

Scalding water splashed across my bare forearm. A gasp ripped from my throat. I stumbled backward, gripping my burning skin.

Before I could even process the searing pain, Piper let out a piercing shriek. She threw her entire body backward onto the mattress. "Ah! You pushed me!

How could you shove me?" she wailed, clutching her swollen stomach. "What is wrong with you? I just asked for a drink, and you attacked me!" The heavy oak door flew open.

Doctors and nurses flooded the VIP suite.

The charge nurse shoved her way to the front, her brow drawn tight. "What happened here?" Piper pointed a trembling finger right at my chest, choking on fake sobs. "She… she shoved me!

I just wanted some water…" The charge nurse glared at me. "You're the agency doula? Who do you work for?" I opened my mouth to defend myself. My phone rang.

The agency supervisor. "Cleo. Are you in Piper's suite?" The supervisor's voice was pure ice. "She just called the agency's complaint line.

She claims you physically assaulted her and stole a hundredthousanddollar Patek Philippe watch from her purse." "I didn't touch her." "She insists it's in your bag.

Empty your tote for the medical staff right now, or I'm dialing 911." The charge nurse snatched my canvas tote. She ripped the zipper open and dumped the contents onto the floor.

A velvet luxury watch box hit the linoleum. She popped the lid. A diamondencrusted Patek Philippe stared back at us. Engraved right on the gleaming metal casing were three words.

Happy Birthday, Piper. The entire room turned their eyes on me. On the bed, Piper covered her face and sobbed.

Chapter 5 "My husband gave me that for my birthday…" Piper sobbed, clutching the bedsheets. "I never even wore it.

I kept it safe in my bag… I can't believe she stole it." The pieces slammed into place. She knew exactly who I was, which was why she specifically requested me.

Piper dropped the fake tears. Her voice dipped into a vicious whisper. "Your fiancé is incredibly generous, Cleo. He bought you a necklace, and he bought me one too.

Except mine has a special engraving on the back.

Want to check?" The heavy hospital door banged open as Caleb burst into the room, immediately grabbing Piper's hands. "Piper, what happened? Are you hurt?

Is it the baby?" Piper buried her face against his chest. "Caleb, that doula shoved me. She stole my watch… I'm so scared." Caleb spun around.

He glared at me, his eyes blazing above my surgical mask. "You're the doula?" I stared at him.

The air vanished from my lungs. "My wife is pregnant." His jaw ticked. "You shoved her? You stole from her?

Apologize right now, or I'll have my lawyers slap you with a subpoena by the end of the day." The room plunged into dead silence. Caleb towered over me, his eyes dark with rage.

Tucked against his chest, Piper's lips curled into a smirk. A tight, bitter laugh forced its way out. I reached up and ripped off the mask. Caleb's rage choked off.

All color drained from his face. "Cleo?" I stared at him with dead eyes. "Caleb. What did you just call her