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THE LADY IS PREGNANT

Author: Aikohi
last update publish date: 2026-05-05 23:42:26

ThIRD PERSON POV

The word spreads the way it always does in the Moretti organisation.

Not through announcements, not through meetings. Through movement, through the specific reshuffling of men and resources that anyone with half a brain can read like a headline if they know what they're looking at.

And these men know what they're looking at.

By seven in the morning Ezra has been pulled from rotation and positioned outside the master bedroom hallway. By eight there are two additional me
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  • MARRIED TO MY EX-FATHER IN LAW.   IF IT'S ENOUGH

    Lola's POV I hear him walk away from the door. His footsteps echo down the hallway, getting quieter and quieter until they disappear completely. He actually left, I told him to go away and he listened. I should feel relieved, I should finally be able to breathe now that there’s space between us. But I don’t feel any of that, just this heavy, aching emptiness. I pull the blanket tighter around me and stare at the wall, listening to the big house settle into its nighttime sounds. The low hum of the heating, a door closing somewhere downstairs, wind rattling against the windows, all those little noises that add up to silence. His house. I’m lying here in his bed, in his house, carrying his child… and he’s the one who killed my father. I close my eyes tight. I think about my mom, Suki Brown. She went back to her maiden name after my dad died, like some quiet way of pulling herself away from the dangerous world he was caught up in. I think about that now, she must’ve known some

  • MARRIED TO MY EX-FATHER IN LAW.   WHAT I DID

    Ocean's POV She wouldn’t look at me. That’s the part that keeps stabbing me in the chest the whole drive home. She just walked away, got into the car with Ezra, and didn’t look back. Not even once. Lola always looks back. It’s her thing...this little check over her shoulder, like she needs to make sure I’m still there, still watching, still hers. She didn’t check this time. And that tells me exactly how deep this cut is. When I step inside the house, I find Hannah standing in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. Arms folded, face tight. She already knows, either word travels crazy fast in this house or Lola’s face said everything when she walked in. “Where is she?” I ask. “Upstairs.” “Which room?” Hannah looks at me for a second. Something complicated crosses her face...not exactly anger, but close. Like she’s weighing who I am right now. “Your room. She went straight up and closed the door behind her.” I head for the stairs. “OCEAN.” Hannah’s voice stops me. I turn ar

  • MARRIED TO MY EX-FATHER IN LAW.   I DON'T KNOW

    Lola's POV Yes. One single word. That’s all it took to blow my entire world apart. I’ve been rolling that “yes” around in my head the whole time since I left the restaurant. Since I turned my back on Ocean on that cold pavement, climbed into the car with Ezra, and muttered “take me home.” I sat in the back seat for twenty whole minutes just staring at my hands while London blurred past the windows like nothing fucking happened. Like my life didn’t just get flipped upside down. One word, and everything changed. When we finally get back to the house, I go straight upstairs. I hear Hannah calling my name from somewhere downstairs, all worried. I don’t stop, I can’t. I don’t have it in me to talk right now, to force words out and make them sound normal. I feel like I’m barely holding myself together. I walk into our bedroom and just stand there in the middle of it. Our bedroom, his room. The place where this whole arrangement stopped feeling fake and turned into something real a

  • MARRIED TO MY EX-FATHER IN LAW.   HER FACE

    Ocean's POV I catch one look at her face from across the busy room and my gut drops. I don’t need the exact words Willow spit out. I don’t know how she twisted it, how much poison she dropped, or how long they sat there while I had my back turned, buried in territorial bullshit with guys who suddenly don’t mean shit to me. None of that matters. I know Lola’s face better than my own. Every damn version of it. The bright, laughing one that lights up rooms. The exhausted one after a long day, the scared one that breaks my heart. The one where she’s biting her lip, fighting back tears. I know the sneaky little smile when she’s hiding something, the focused frown when she’s figuring shit out, and that soft, blurry morning face when she’s half-asleep and doesn’t know I’m watching her like a lovesick fool. But this face right now? I’ve never seen it before. It’s the face of a woman whose whole world just got ripped apart and rearranged without her permission. Like someone took a sledge

  • MARRIED TO MY EX-FATHER IN LAW.   HE ORDERED IT

    Lola’s POV Your father’s name was Marcus Chen, the words hit me like a truck. The restaurant doesn’t stop, forks keep scraping plates. People keep talking low. The sommelier still glides between tables with some fancy bottles. Everything keeps moving like normal, but inside me? Everything freezes. “What did you say?” My voice comes out all wrong...thin, shaky, like I’m scared of my own words. Willow gives me that look, the soft one, the worried one. The one that’s actually the scariest thing in this whole damn room right now. “Marcus Chen,” she says again, real quiet. Like she’s the one breaking bad news she never wanted to say out loud. “Your dad. That was his name before they put you in the system, before they changed it to Brown.” “I know what my father’s damn name was.” The words shoot out before I can stop them. And true. I’ve always known, Lola Chen who turned into Lola Brown at nine years old in some dusty social worker’s office with beige walls and a sad plant nobo

  • MARRIED TO MY EX-FATHER IN LAW.   THE TRUTH

    Willow's POV I’ve been to Rosario’s enough times to know exactly how the place runs. It ain’t your regular restaurant like normal people think. Yeah, there’s a menu. Yeah, there’s some fancy sommelier acting like wine is life or death, and the maître d’ who’s been there twenty years and remembers every important face. But the real reason Rosario’s still standing after three decades is simple: it’s neutral ground. A spot where guys who would happily shoot each other on Tuesday can sit across a clean white tablecloth on Wednesday and talk business without pulling guns. The back left corner is always Ocean’s table when he shows up. Front right belongs to whoever the Romanos send. Center tables are for everybody else, set up by a pecking order so old nobody even needs to be told where to sit anymore. I know all this because I spent six years learning the game. I sat right next to Ocean at that back left table more times than I can count. This world used to be mine too, even if I was

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