He Made My Pregnant Wife Kneel — Then He Saw the Deed to His Own Hotel

The File That Would Seal His Fate

Alistair Finch didn't go quietly. From the hotel's grand entrance, he screamed back at Lorenzo. "You think this is over? You have no idea what I've got on this place!"

Lorenzo didn't even turn around. "I'm sure you've got plenty, Finch. That's why I've had a forensic accountant going through your books for three weeks."

That stopped Alistair cold. His eyes bugged out. "What?"

"Embezzlement," Lorenzo said, his voice carrying through the now-silent lobby. "Kickbacks from vendors. Falsified invoices. You've been bleeding this hotel dry for years."

Sophie looked up at her husband, shocked. "You knew?"

"I suspected," Lorenzo said. "But I needed proof. And thanks to the camera crew filming a wedding here last month, I got it."

He pulled out his phone, showing a grainy but clear image of Alistair accepting a thick envelope from a catering supplier. The date stamp matched a suspicious invoice.

Alistair's face went pale. "That's... that's not what it looks like."

"It's exactly what it looks like," Lorenzo said. "And I've got thirty more just like it. You're not just fired, Finch. You're going to prison."

Security guards closed in, but Alistair shook them off. "You can't do this to me! I know things about this hotel—"

"I know everything about this hotel," Lorenzo cut in. "I own it. I've owned it for three months now. The deed was signed the day you promoted Sophie to head server. You thought I was just a customer."

Alistair's jaw dropped. "The anonymous buyer... that was you?"

"I bought it as an anniversary gift," Lorenzo said. "I was going to tell Sophie tonight. But you ruined the surprise."

Sophie clutched his arm. "You bought me a hotel?"

"I bought you this hotel, sweetheart," Lorenzo said. "The one you've worked at for years, the one where you've been mistreated, the one where you've cried in the supply closet after every shift. I couldn't stand it anymore."

Daisy tugged on his sleeve. "Daddy, is the mean man going away?"

"Yes, sweetheart," Lorenzo said, kissing her forehead. "He's going far, far away."

But Alistair wasn't done. He lunged at Lorenzo, his face twisted with rage. Security guards tackled him, pinning him to the marble floor.

"You'll regret this!" he screamed. "I'll ruin you! I'll sell my story to the tabloids!"

Lorenzo stepped over him, his shoes inches from Alistair's face. "Go ahead. But by the time you're out of prison, this hotel will be the most successful in the city. And you'll be nothing but a cautionary tale."

He turned to the guards. "Call the police. And make sure they have a copy of the file."

As Alistair was dragged away, his shouts echoing through the lobby, Sophie finally let herself breathe. She looked up at her husband, her hero, her protector.

"I can't believe you did all this for me," she whispered.

"I'd do anything for you," Lorenzo said. "And for her." He nodded at Daisy, who was now playing with the buttons on his cuff.

But even as the police arrived and took Alistair away, Sophie felt a familiar twinge. The cramp from earlier returned, sharper this time. She gasped, gripping Lorenzo's arm.

"Lorenzo... I think the baby's coming."

His eyes widened. "Now?"

"Now," she said, her face pale. "It's early."

Lorenzo didn't hesitate. He scooped her into his arms, Daisy holding onto his pant leg, and rushed toward the exit. The board director shouted for a doctor. The hotel staff scattered.

And in the chaos, no one noticed Alistair Finch slip the handcuffs, darting toward the back service stairs.

He wasn't done yet.