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What's wrong with Baby D?

Auteur: Johndoe
last update Date de publication: 2026-09-13 16:20:25

Janet

Being tethered to the daybed felt like living in a cage, even if the bars were made of goose-down pillows and soft linen throws.

I was twenty-nine weeks along now, and my body was an unfamiliar landscape of aches, tight skin, and overwhelming exhaustion. Sitting upright for more than twenty minutes made my pelvis throb with a deep, bruised heaviness, and my swollen ankles looked like dough pressed into shape. Yet the hardest part wasn't the physical weight of four babies—it was the mental
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  • Five years later, My Billionaire Ex-husband wants me back   Why are you still at the building?

    GarrettThe sixty-foot video wall had gone black twenty minutes ago, yet I remained in the empty boardroom, staring at the polished, dark glass.Seeing her again had not brought the closure I foolishly imagined it might. It had torn the scab from a five-year-old wound, leaving the raw nerve exposed to freezing air.Janet had not screamed. She had not wept, sneered, or flinched. She had looked through the high-definition lens, straight into my eyes, and addressed me with the crisp, untouchable detachment reserved for an unfamiliar vendor.“That will suffice, Mr. Crawford.”She looked radiant. Stronger, sharper, infinitely more beautiful than the timid girl I had brought into high society. The quiet vulnerability that Eleanor and Vanessa had weaponized against her was gone, replaced by an iron poise that placed her entirely beyond my reach.What broke me was the absolute absence of hatred in her eyes. Hatred was an active emotion; it meant a person still occupied space in your soul. Jan

  • Five years later, My Billionaire Ex-husband wants me back   No. But I will be

    JanetThe terms of my agreement with Daniel were absolute: Jade Bloom would take Crawford International’s global infrastructure, but I would never cross their threshold.Daniel had boarded a regional flight to the capital early that morning to finalize the European logistics schedule at Crawford Tower. I remained in my coastal corner office, surrounded by formulation samples and dried botanical jars, content to let four hundred miles of highway serve as my fortress.Then, at eleven-fifteen, my desk phone chimed with an urgent notification.A secure video conference link appeared on my monitor, followed by a frantic message from Daniel:Customs harmonization dispute on cold-press shelf stability for the French and German markets. Crawford's retail legal team wants to alter our batch-preservation clause or hold twenty percent of initial wholesale inventory in escrow. I cannot sign off on an alternative antioxidant formulation without you. Need your eyes for ten minutes.I stared at the

  • Five years later, My Billionaire Ex-husband wants me back   Then we should just go ask him

    GavinThe sliver of hall light vanished as Mom’s footsteps faded down the corridor toward her bedroom."You're making stuff up," Grayson hissed back, propping himself on his elbows, his messy curls sticking out in every direction. "Mom said he was just a businessman with stores. You can't know who our dad is from a screen.""I'm not making it up," I whispered, staying crouched on the braided rug between our beds. "Get up. Look at me."Grayson squinted through the dim amber glow of our nightlight."Look at my jaw," I insisted, pointing to the side of my face just like I had seen in the window glass downstairs. "And look at your eyebrows in the mirror. We don't have Mom’s nose. We don't have Daniel’s chin. His hair is dark like ours, his shoulders are straight, and his eyes are gray. Exactly like mine."A floorboard creaked across the room.Before either of us could move, a small shadow dropped off the opposite bed. Gabriella padded silently across the rug in her mismatched dinosaur soc

  • Five years later, My Billionaire Ex-husband wants me back   I think I know who our dad is

    Janet"He knows," Daniel said, his voice quiet over the speakerphone.I froze, my pen hovering an inch above a shipping manifest on my desk. The sun was setting over the coastal bluffs, casting long, bloody streaks of crimson across the office floorboards."What do you mean, he knows?" I demanded, the room suddenly feeling devoid of oxygen."Our retail broker in New York had a status call with Crawford’s acquisition division this morning," Daniel explained, his tone heavy with caution. "The presentation went all the way to the executive committee. Garrett personally cleared the boardroom after seeing the deck. He saw your picture, Janet. He knows Janet Hale is Janet Crawford."A wave of icy nausea rushed through my veins. The fragile shield I had hid behind for the past forty-eight hours—the comforting illusion that this was merely an anonymous corporate expansion driven by mid-level analysts—shattered completely."Pull the plug," I said instantly, my chest tightening. "Terminate the

  • Five years later, My Billionaire Ex-husband wants me back   You still love her

    GarrettMy first, instinctual reaction was to reach for my private phone, order the company jet readied at the private hangar, and fly directly to the coast.I wanted to stand in front of her. I wanted to see her breathe. I wanted to look into those deep brown eyes and say the words I had rewritten a hundred times on crumpled sheets of stationery. The impulse was violent, electric, and desperate—the reaction of a man who had wandered five years through a graveyard and suddenly caught a glimpse of living light.My hand hovered an inch above the telephone on my desk.Then, slowly, I pulled my fingers back.“I threw her away,” I reminded myself in the silence of my study. “There is a difference.”During our marriage, I had dictated the terms of her existence. I had decided which galas she attended, which dresses suited the Crawford image, and how she should conduct herself before the board. And on the night everything shattered, I had made the most brutal, unilateral decision of all: I h

  • Five years later, My Billionaire Ex-husband wants me back   I have found her

    GarrettThe boardroom on the eightieth floor of Crawford Tower offered an uninterrupted panorama of the city below. Five years of aggressive acquisitions, sovereign infrastructure pacts, and transatlantic shipping consolidations had doubled the company’s enterprise valuation. In boardrooms across London, Tokyo, and New York, my name was spoken with a mixture of reverence and caution.Professionally, my authority was absolute.Personally, I lived inside an empty fortress.I had never remarried. The social pages occasionally invented courtships whenever I was photographed beside an ambassador’s daughter or a banking heiress at an opera gala, but my private life remained an impenetrable desert.Eleanor still resided in the family’s country estate, but our relationship had never recovered. She received her living allowance through automated trust distributions, stripped of all voting shares and board access. We exchanged formal, cold telephone calls twice a year on holidays, speaking like

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