The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

ELLA’S POV

I was furious.

Absolutely fuming.

Jason had gone behind my back and told our parents about my pregnancy without even consulting me.

The nerve.

The audacity.

The sheer recklessness.

But...

I was also loving every second of the attention I was getting.

Jason’s mom fussed over me like I was some fragile glass doll.

Jason’s dad gave me approving nods like I was some kind of goddess.

And my own father?

Oh, he was over the moon.

"My daughter is pregnant!" he had shouted to every single person in our mansion, as if the staff cared. "I’m going to be a grandfather!"

For the past hour, I had been pampered, praised, and practically worshipped.

Jason?

Jason was getting scolded.

A lot.

He looked exhausted.

I, on the other hand, was lounging like royalty on the couch, my ice cream in hand, as Jason was chased around the house by my father for ’not being careful enough.’

Life was good.

And It Was About to Get Even Better

Our parents finally left in the afternoon, but not before terrorizing Jason for the hundredth time about taking care of me.

"If I hear even a whisper that you are neglecting my daughter—" my father had begun.

Jason, looking like a prisoner awaiting execution, nodded furiously. "You won’t! I swear!"

My mother-in-law, ever dramatic, wiped imaginary tears from her eyes. "My poor Ella... carrying my grandchild while dealing with him." She shot Jason a look that could kill a lesser man.

Jason groaned. "Oh my God."

My father-in-law clapped Jason on the back—hard—almost making him trip. "Son, this is your chance to redeem yourself. Do not mess it up."

Jason sighed. "Yes, sir."

And then, finally—finally—they were gone.

I collapsed onto the couch with a satisfied sigh. Peace at last.

Jason, on the other hand, was just standing there, running a hand through his hair, looking like he had aged ten years in a single afternoon.

I smirked. "Rough day?"

He shot me a murderous glare. "You enjoyed every second of that, didn’t you?"

I took a slow, deliberate bite of my ice cream. "Absolutely."

Jason groaned and collapsed face-first onto the couch. "They freaking terrorized me."

I patted his back, not sympathetically at all. "Poor baby."

He turned his head to glare at me. "They literally threatened my life."

I shrugged. "I told you not to go behind my back and tell them."

Jason groaned dramatically. "You’re going to kill me before this marriage is over."

I grinned. "That’s the plan."

And honestly? I was loving every single second of it.

After our parents left—after thoroughly terrorizing Jason, of course—I spent the rest of the day enjoying my newfound status as the most pampered woman in existence. Jason, meanwhile, looked like a man who had been sentenced to a lifetime of hard labor. Every now and then, I’d catch him muttering under his breath about "betrayal" and "marriage being a scam".

I just smiled. This was going to be fun.

When night fell, we found ourselves back in my room.

I sat cross-legged on the bed, watching Jason as he stood by the door, clearly hesitant. His eyes flickered from the bed to me, and then to the pillows—as if trying to figure out how to survive this night without being murdered.

I smirked. Time to make things interesting.

"Alright, Jason," I said sweetly. "Let’s set some ground rules."

His brows furrowed. "Wait, you’re setting the rules?"

I nodded. "Problem?"

He sighed. "Of course not. Please, tell me how I should exist in my own house."

I ignored him.

"First," I said, holding up a finger, "no touching. You stay on your side, I stay on mine."

Jason smirked. "You say that like you’d be able to resist me."

I rolled my eyes. "Trust me, I’ll manage."

He chuckled but didn’t argue.

"Second," I continued, "if I wake up and you’ve somehow drifted onto my side of the bed, I will throw you off."

Jason scoffed. "As if I’d—"

I narrowed my eyes. "I will throw you off."

Jason shut up immediately.

"Third," I leaned forward, smiling sweetly, "you will do whatever I ask, no questions asked."

Jason blinked. "...Excuse me?"

I yawned, stretching my arms. "You heard me. It’s only fair. After all, I’m the one carrying your child."

His jaw dropped. "You can’t just—"

I patted my stomach. "Baby says yes."

Jason ran a hand down his face, looking like a man on the verge of a mental breakdown. "This is emotional blackmail."

I shrugged. "It’s pregnant woman privilege."

Jason muttered something under his breath but crawled into bed anyway, clearly defeated.

I waited until he was finally settled, eyes closed, muscles relaxed.

Then, just as his breathing slowed—

"Jason," I whispered.

He didn’t move. "Go to sleep, Ella."

I pouted dramatically. "But... I want warm milk."

His eyes snapped open immediately. "You what?"

I rubbed my belly for extra dramatic effect. "I think the cravings have started."

Jason stared at me like I had lost my mind. "Ella, it’s literally our first night knowing about the pregnancy. You don’t get cravings this fast."

I gasped. "Are you saying you don’t care about my needs?"

Jason groaned, already regretting his life choices. "You’re doing this on purpose."

I blinked innocently. "Doing what?"

He sighed so heavily, I thought he was about to pass out. "Fine. I’ll get the damn milk."

Success.

Jason groaned as he swung his legs off the bed, rubbing his temples as if my request had physically injured him.

"It’s just warm milk, Jason," I said, barely suppressing a smirk. "Are you going to complain this much every time I crave something?"

He shot me a dark look. "If you start asking for dragon fruit at two in the morning, I’m filing for custody."

I placed a dramatic hand on my chest. "Jason King, are you already planning to steal my child?"

His eye twitched. "I’m getting the milk."

And with that, he stomped out of the room like a man heading to war.

I let out a small, evil chuckle the moment he was gone. This was way too easy.

A few minutes later, Jason returned, begrudgingly carrying a mug of warm milk. He stood at the doorway, watching me suspiciously as I happily adjusted my pillows.

"Here," he muttered, handing it over.

I took a small sip, then blinked up at him.

"Jason..."

His body tensed immediately. "What?"

I gave him my best puppy eyes. "Can you add honey?"

Jason froze.

For a moment, I thought he was going to explode. But then, he took a deep breath, grabbed the mug, and marched back to the kitchen without a word.

I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing.

By the time he returned, he slammed the mug onto my bedside table, looking one second away from committing murder.

"There," he muttered. "Warm milk. With honey. Anything else, Your Highness?"

I took another sip, humming thoughtfully.

Jason’s fingers twitched.

I sighed dramatically. "It’s perfect."

Jason stared at me suspiciously for a full five seconds, then let out a breath of relief as he climbed into bed again.

I waited.

Waited.

He finally turned off the lamp, shifting to get comfortable.

Then—

"Jason," I whispered.

His whole body stiffened.

I grinned.

"...I want a foot massage."

Jason bolted upright. "ELLA—"

I held up a hand. "You agreed to my conditions."

His jaw dropped. "THAT WAS NOT ONE OF THE CONDITIONS."

I gasped, horrified. "So you expect the mother of your child to suffer in silence? My feet are sore, Jason. Sore."

Jason looked like he was going to cry.

I placed a hand on my belly, gazing at him with heartbroken eyes. "If only someone cared about me... If only my husband loved me enough to—"

"FINE," he snapped, grabbing my foot aggressively. "One. Foot. Massage. And then we’re going to sleep."

I smirked in victory as he reluctantly began massaging my foot.

Jason grumbled the entire time, but I ignored him, thoroughly enjoying myself.

By the time he finished, he flopped onto his side of the bed, clearly exhausted.

"If you wake me up again, I swear—"

I patted his arm. "Sleep tight, darling."

He let out a suffering groan, burying his face into the pillow.

I turned onto my side, grinning to myself in the dark.

This was just the beginning.