The Billionaire's Baby Maker (ENGLISH VERSION)

“I heard Gab got arrested,” Jasrylle said just as I was taking a sip of water.

I froze mid-drink, sighed heavily, and shrugged. “Really?” was all I managed to say.

“Serves him right. That bastard. Even calling him a monster feels too kind. He left you when you needed him most, didn’t even help when your child got sick. If only he had helped, maybe…”

She stopped mid-sentence when I let out another deep sigh. Realizing she’d gone too far, she shut her mouth and fake-coughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up again. It just pisses me off, you know? That jerk deserves to rot in jail. He’s heartless. And spineless too,” she added, still fuming.

I stayed quiet. I wanted to curse him too—but I’d done enough of that every night, whispering my hatred to the dark because of what he did to my ch—my child.

I was only twenty when I got pregnant with my ex-boyfriend, Gab. I still don’t know if I was just naive back then or born a fool for falling for a man like him. He came from a rich family, but he was useless among them—didn’t finish college, didn’t have a job. So when I told him I was pregnant, he refused to take responsibility and told me to get rid of the baby.

I may have been poor, but I wasn’t heartless. I could never do what he was asking. So even without a single peso of support from him—despite his constant pressure to abort—I kept my baby. And when my son was born healthy, I thought everything would finally be okay.

I thought I could raise him on my own. I thought hard work would be enough. I thought wrong.

I took another sip of water, set the glass on the table, and looked at Jasrylle sitting beside me on a monobloc chair. “Have you found any side gigs yet?” I asked.

Her quick shake of the head made me frown. Of course not.

She sighed and looked at me. “You sure you don’t want to work at our bar? You’d just be dancing, not doing anything indecent. There’s a difference. Besides, even after having a baby, your body’s still great. You’re still sexy, Lyana. Don’t you want to give it a try?”

“I don’t want to do that kind of job, Jasrylle,” I said firmly.

“Sometimes you need to swallow your pride, Lyana. I earn seven thousand pesos a day! Don’t you want to make that much too? You know you have to work double for your brother. Or do you want everything to fall apart again like before?”

I lowered my gaze, unable to argue. She was right—I needed the money. But still…

“I—I don’t know how to dance,” I murmured.

Jasrylle sighed loudly, then stood up. My eyes widened when I saw what she was wearing. I could never dress like that. Her tube top barely covered her chest, and her shorts were so short that