A CEO's Child

Mother In-Law

He was pawning through the millions of chanels on the tv they had but never watched. He was bored out of his fucking mind. His wife had been gone for only a few hours and he had no clue what to do with out her.

He groaned and crossed his arms at the thought of all the paper work he'd have to do when he got back to the office. He also wondered how the commotion would go. If anyone knew that he was knocked up.

His phone buzzed again beside him. His wife. Again. He ignored it. She was going to be chasing down methies and he was stuck sitting on the couch.

"You are an annoying little bean," he growled to his stomach. The fucking pressure he was beginning to feel was crazy. It wasn't even just the aching but the pressure. He could feel it's body inside him. 

He tentatively reached out and pushed against the swell. It was impossible but he was positive he'd grown since yesterday. 

"You are going to be a big baby," he growled, doing the math. His wife was over six-feet, and so was he. They also were both well over 200 pounds. "Fucking shit, you're going to be a big bean."

There was  knock on the door. Then shuffling and finally the door clicked open. He reached to the next cushion of the couch, searching for a gun that clearly wasn't going to be there. 

"Venyamin!?" A voice called. It was forceful but delicate like Anissa's. 

"What!?" He snarled, his fucking wife did keep her word and sent him a sitter. His mother-in-law, who he was damn positive hated him. 

She came into view with a few bags in her hands. Grocery bags. He assessed her some more, refusing to move himself from his sprawled out spot on the couch. He'd finally gotten comfy, his belly hardly aching. 

"Nothing? Not even a cheerful how are you?"

Anissa wasn't here, and he certainly was going to have none of her mother's shit. "Why are you here? I'm 26, I don't need a damn babysitter."

"Cut the shit, kiddo. You did damn stupid things, just like I knew you would eventually."

He bared his teeth at her and he spit at her. "Is it because I'm foreign? Because I'm not good enough for your daughter!? To this day!? After everything I've overcame for her!?"

She sighed, her green eyes just as dark as Anissa's and her brown hair without a single spec of grey. Carolin had a problem with him since he first met Anissa, probably inspired by Anissa's father's hatred of foreigners. 

"My daughter begged me to come and make sure you're okay, so here I am. So let's be civil."

He shrugged, not bothering to get into it with her. "Fine by me. Have a seat. Beer and whine and whatever else is in the fridge." 

She set down her bags. "I want to know what is going on."

"You should know. You've read the news." He crossed his arms again, despite the weight of his arms putting pressure on his stomach. 

"You're under investigation for stolen materials."

"So?" he responded. 

"Tell me what's actually going on. What did you steal."

"Woman," he growled choking over his accent. "It's none of your concern."

"It is mine because your suppose to be my son." She sighed, crossing her own arms and leaning heavily on one foot. She had the same long, toned legs Anissa had despite being much older. "I don't like we don't get along."