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One hundred and eighty-nine
Last Updated:
2025-11-12 12:06:20
Amaka Swipe up for the next chapter, and please don’t be a ghost reader. Writing alone is boring and lonely 😞 but reading your comments and thoughts always brightens my day.
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Mr. President Has A Baby Bump One hundred and eighty-nine
~~Alex~~Alex Fisher was anything but a cry baby… the last thing anyone will ever is me do is breaking down like this… and worst I was doing that in an open space in my sister’s arms.I didn’t even hear the footsteps this time. The world had gone quiet in that strange way pain makes it like every sound was being held at a distance. Dahlia’s hand was still on my back, her voice low, saying something I didn’t really hear.Then another voice broke through. Softer. Older. Firm, but shaking.“Alex…”I looked up, blinking through tears. Madam Hale stood there in her usual elegant coat, her hair pulled into that neat bun that never seemed to move. But her face her face wasn’t composed. It was raw. Red-rimmed eyes, lips trembling. She looked at me, then at Dahlia, and then at the closed doors of the operating room.“Is my son…” she whispered, taking a step forward. “Is my son alright… and the babies?”Her voice cracked on the last word.I tried to speak, but my throat gave out. I just shook m
Mr. President Has A Baby Bump One hundred and eighty-eight
~~Alex~~James let himself in like he always does. He closed the door softly behind him, that practiced doctor stride in his step. He looked at the screens, at the bed, then at me. There was this tired smile on his face like he was apologizing before he spoke.“Hey man,” he said. “Congrats on destroying your enemies.”I let out a hollow laugh. “They made it too easy. It doesn’t feel like a win. It feels staged.”James didn’t argue. He sat on the edge of the chair and rubbed his face once. “You look like hell.”“I feel like hell.” I said it flat. The truth hit harder when I let it out. “When will Jay wake up, James? How long do I have to watch him sleep like this? I haven’t had a minute of peace since this started. It’s one thing after another. I’m tired, James. I’m so tired.”James’s hand found mine on the duvet for a beat, brotherly, steady. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”Then he straightened. His voice shifted. Clinical. Controlled. “We’re operating tonight.”For a second the words
Mr. President Has A Baby Bump One hundred and eighty-seven
~~ Alex~~No fucking way.I stared at the CCTV feed from the Saito compound, and for a second, I honestly thought my brain was glitching. The entire lab was on fire no, not just on fire, it was erasing itself. Walls collapsing, metal melting, alarms screaming through the static. One second there were walls and men and machines; the next, it was just fire eating everything like it had been waiting for this moment.I leaned closer, blinking through the smoke distortion on-screen. “No… fucking… way.”The door burst open, and one of the Alpha Team guys stumbled in. He looked like he’d just seen a ghost.“Sir… Elijah’s dead.”I turned slowly. “What did you just say?”He swallowed hard. “We found him in the torture room. No pulse. He’s gone.”For a second, my brain just froze. Then I laughed. It wasn’t funny but I laughed anyway. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. The enemy’s killing each other now? What kind of sick twist is this?”The guy just stared, probably wondering if I’d lost it. Honestly
Mr. President Has A Baby Bump One hundred and eighty-six
~~ Gabriel ~~Enough.The word hammered in my skull until it was the only thing that mattered. Enough of the lies. Enough of the manipulations. Enough of this life carved out of cruelty and dressed up as destiny.I stood in the middle of the lab the same place that once smelled like progress and genius when my grandfather called it “the future.” Now it just reeked of blood, chemicals, and deceit. Cages. Centrifuges. Rows of glass cabinets filled with vials that gleamed like bottled lies under the harsh lights.This was where everything began.And this was where it would end.I moved slowly, steady, every step deliberate. I didn’t need to threaten him anymore. I didn’t need to scream or break anything. I’d already wrung every secret out of him every twisted truth. I’d listened as he tried to disguise horror as “vision,” murder as “purpose.” He’d called himself a creator, a savior even, while standing on the bones of the people he broke.Now there was nothing left to say. Only consequen
Mr. President Has A Baby Bump One hundred and eighty-five
~~ Gabriel ~~Grandfather was strapped to the reinforced chair l the same kind he’d used on his “test subjects.” The irony wasn’t lost on me.Cables ran from the generator to the electrodes pressed against his chest and arms. Every time he lied, every time he tried to twist the truth, I’d turn the dial a little higher.He called it science.I called it justice.His breathing came in shallow rasps now, sweat slicking his gray hair to his forehead, blood dried at the corner of his mouth. But still, even now, his eyes were calm. Calculating. Like pain was just another observation in his experiment.I still find the all thing about my mother’s birth crazy… and that fact that our life’s are all linked together is insane… It was obvious the main reason for all this… and why he wanted revenge was because my mother fell in love and had my brother and I. Which to him is an error o his perfect creation.“So,” I said, circling him, voice sharp and low. “What you’re saying is… my mother was born
Mr. President Has A Baby Bump One hundred and eighty-four
~~ Gabriel ~~Finding him wasn’t hard.Grandfather had taught me how to hunt how to track, how to make a man disappear.He’d just forgotten that I’d learned too well.It took less than twenty four hours for my men to locate him, hidden in one of our mountain estates in Kyoto remote, fortified, crawling with guards that used to take orders from me. But loyalty shifts when fear changes faces. All I had to do was whisper that the old man’s empire was burning, and they switched sides faster than the wind.By the time I entered the underground bunker, he was already waiting sitting in that grand leather chair like some ancient king trying to cling to a dying throne. His white hair slicked back, hands folded neatly, as if I hadn’t just dragged his guards through blood to get here.“Gabriel,” he greeted, calm as winter. “I was wondering when you’d come.”The sight of him made my teeth grind.All my life, I’d thought his coldness was strength. Now I saw it for what it really was, rot disguise
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