Chapter 185: Hannah

The sounds of fighting ceased, leaving only the growls escaping my throat—a reaction I hadn't consciously initiated. Drake stared, momentarily stunned, his gaze dropping to my left hand protectively covering my stomach. Then, meeting my fiery gaze, understanding dawned.

“Hannah, are you…?”

No, I thought, panicking. Pull yourself together!

Straightening, I cleared my throat and left the ring, hoping to pass it off as a simple stomachache.

“Sorry, Drake,” I mumbled, hurrying toward my gym bag. “I’m not feeling well. Let’s call it a day.”

But Drake wasn't convinced. He followed, his footsteps echoing in the empty training center. I kept my back turned, hoping to hide my crimson face, focusing solely on retrieving my bag and escaping.

“Hannah, wait,” he called, jogging to catch up. “We need to talk.”

I quickened my pace, breathless, but Drake was faster. He reached me as I grabbed my bag, placing a hand on my shoulder to stop my flight.

“Hannah,” he said, his voice low and serious. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

I froze, my heart pounding. He couldn't know; only Viona knew, and even then, I often questioned my decision to confide in her. Slowly, I turned, striving for a neutral expression.

“What?” I scoffed, feigning ignorance. “No, I just—”

“You don’t need to lie,” Drake interrupted, his intense gaze making my stomach churn. “Your reaction when I touched your stomach, the protectiveness… it all makes sense.”

I tried to deny it, but no words came. My silence seemed to confirm his suspicions; he nodded slowly.

“I thought so,” he murmured, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “Look, I won’t tell anyone. You don’t even have to admit it. But Hannah, you can’t engage in combat while pregnant. It’s too dangerous.”

My heart hammered. Dammit, he was too perceptive. There was no turning back.

“Drake, if I am pregnant,” I said cautiously, still not confirming it, “then I need to protect my child. I can’t stop training and become vulnerable again.”

His expression softened; he stepped closer. “I understand. But there are safer ways to train, ways that won’t put you or the baby at risk.”

“Like what?” I asked, despite my suspicion.

“Defensive techniques, evasion, non-contact drills,” Drake suggested. “I can modify exercises to avoid abdominal impact. If you want to continue training, I’ll find safe ways.”

I narrowed my eyes, still wary despite his apparent kindness. “And, hypothetically, if I needed these accommodations—which I don’t—what would you want in return?”

Drake smiled sheepishly. “Just what we agreed on: a date with Zoe.”

I chuckled. “You’re still hung up on that?”

“I’m persistent,” Drake grinned. His expression turned serious. “But Hannah, I want to help you. This isn’t just about Zoe.”