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Chapter 24

Penulis: J.D Penn
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-05-03 03:41:51
I don’t move.

Not even a twitch.

The phone is still pressed to my cheek like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to Earth. My robe is half-slipped off my shoulder, my toes are pointed dramatically in my sparkly flip-flops, and I’m 90% sure my heart is performing Swan Lake inside my chest.

For one brief, deranged second, I think it might be Theo.

That he’ll say something stupid and British like, “Hey, Sticky, sorry I vanished. Got abducted by MI6,” and then I’ll cry and scream and probably fall in love again.

“…Hello?” I repeat, softer this time. The breeze from the poolside flutters the hem of my robe, but I barely register it.

A pause. Then, “Char?”

The voice is familiar in the way that mold in your shower is familiar, gross, clinging, impossible to fully get rid of.

Monty, of course it’s him.

I roll my eyes so hard I nearly dislocate something. “Monty,” I sigh, letting his name slither out like an old curse.

The air smells like chlorine and citrus cleaner, everything is dim excep
J.D Penn

Hi everyone, I hope you're enjoying this book so far? I'm really proud of this chapter.

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  • Pregnant By My Enemy's Fiancé   Chapter 28

    I don’t remember walking out of his room.One second, he’s telling me to “get out” like I’m the villain in his tragic little opera, and the next, I’m standing in the elevator, fists clenched, teeth grinding, heartbeat screaming louder than my thoughts.Julian waits by the doors like a loyal golden retriever, calm and gentle-eyed, like he doesn’t realize my entire chest is burning down from the inside. “Char—”“Bar,” I snap.He blinks. Nods. Doesn’t ask questions.The hotel bar is dimly lit and moody, like it was designed specifically for heartbreak and overpriced cocktails.Everything smells like cedarwood and quiet resentment, and the leather seats creak under me like even they’re too exhausted to comfort.Julian escorts me in and stays long enough to order me a drink, vodka soda, boring and clean, but I wave it away and order a gin and tonic instead.I hate gin. It tastes like someone juiced a pine tree and called it classy. But somehow it fits tonight. Sharp, dry, bitter. Like me.

  • Pregnant By My Enemy's Fiancé   Chapter 27

    I should’ve had a drink.One sip. Half a mimosa. Hell, I would’ve even settled for a tequila shot served in a dirty heel from the hotel bar floor. Anything to stop my hands from shaking like I’m about to audition for America’s Next Top Model.But no. Here I am. Sober, sweating, and standing in front of a man’s hotel room like it’s 2007 and I’m auditioning for a rom-com reboot that’s about to go horribly wrong.My finger hesitates just a second before knocking. Once. Twice.Nothing.I glance down the hallway. Maybe the receptionist gave me the wrong room. Or maybe the universe is finally cutting me a break and Axton isn’t here. I can go back downstairs, stuff my face with overpriced macarons, and pretend this entire plan was just a weird hallucination from drinking too much matcha.I knock again. Harder this time.Still nothing.Fine.We’re doing this.I go full psycho ex-girlfriend mode and start pounding on the door like it personally owes me money. My knuckles are probably bruising

  • Pregnant By My Enemy's Fiancé   Chapter 26

    The only way I can describe my outfit right now is pastel elegance. I’m talking full-on floral daydream: flared tea-length dress covered in soft pink roses, a matching pillbox hat with a little netted veil thing (because why not), pearl gloves with matching earrings, and heels so dainty I could cry.I even curled my hair in those vintage waves that take five years off your life to perfect.Do I look like someone who’s about to take down a cheating ex, a fake fiancée, and potentially seduce a helicopter pilot?No.I look like someone’s delicate niece who lives in a literal dollhouse and drinks tea with ghost children. But it’s fine. It's all part of the look. Theo’s been texting me since last night, I woke up to “Still trouble?” followed by a winky face, which made me squeal into my pillow like a deranged Victorian princess. So yeah. I needed to feel hot.And I did feel hot. Right up until I got to the garden party.The moment Julian and I step into the venue, it’s clear I missed the v

  • Pregnant By My Enemy's Fiancé   Chapter 25

    The moment I see the words hi, Sticky, I forget how to breathe. Which is rude, because I was doing such a great job of panicking over Ashley the skank and the picture that could end her little engagement.But now?Now my body does this completely involuntary shimmy, like my soul just put on a feather boa and twirled.Pathetic really.Theo. It has to be him. It’s the worst possible moment, obviously. I'm mid-revenge fantasy, robe askew, heart full of righteous fury. And yet… my traitorous fingers want to text back immediately. Something chill. Something hot-but-unbothered, like “who’s this?” even though we both know damn well who it is.Instead, I pace.Robe slipping, flip-flops slapping, wet hair clinging to the back of my neck. I stare at the message again like it might change. Hi, Sticky. Three little words, and suddenly my brain is playing bingo with me.God, what’s the etiquette for this? Is there a girl code rulebook for flirting with the hot helicopter guy while you’re halfway

  • Pregnant By My Enemy's Fiancé   Chapter 24

    I don’t move.Not even a twitch.The phone is still pressed to my cheek like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to Earth. My robe is half-slipped off my shoulder, my toes are pointed dramatically in my sparkly flip-flops, and I’m 90% sure my heart is performing Swan Lake inside my chest.For one brief, deranged second, I think it might be Theo.That he’ll say something stupid and British like, “Hey, Sticky, sorry I vanished. Got abducted by MI6,” and then I’ll cry and scream and probably fall in love again.“…Hello?” I repeat, softer this time. The breeze from the poolside flutters the hem of my robe, but I barely register it.A pause. Then, “Char?”The voice is familiar in the way that mold in your shower is familiar, gross, clinging, impossible to fully get rid of.Monty, of course it’s him.I roll my eyes so hard I nearly dislocate something. “Monty,” I sigh, letting his name slither out like an old curse.The air smells like chlorine and citrus cleaner, everything is dim excep

  • Pregnant By My Enemy's Fiancé   Chapter 23

    I’ve been ghosted.Okay, technically, it’s only been twenty-four hours. But in girl math, that’s like six months, especially when you’re waiting for a text from a helicopter pilot who called you “Sticky” like it was the most charming thing he’s ever said in his life.Theo.THEO.I hate how his name sounds like something you’d name a fictional prince in a trashy romance novel. And worse, I hate that I was already halfway through mentally designing our wedding invites by the time I woke up this morning. Cream cardstock, gold foil, a wax seal. Maybe a tiny little helicopter charm attached to the envelope like a deranged, sentimental psychopath.But no. I woke up to zero texts, zero missed calls, and a single Instagram story from Emily about a banana croissant. Meanwhile, I’m in full psycho mode with my own expectations.So much for Sticky Thursdays.“Charlotte, let’s go,” Julian calls from the hotel hallway, holding two oat milk lattes and already wearing his grumpy-sunglasses-and-linen-

  • Pregnant By My Enemy's Fiancé   Chapter 22

    I’m not blushing.Okay, maybe I am blushing, but in my defense, how does anyone not melt when their hot helicopter pilot winks at them and calls them sticky like it’s a pet name instead of a personality flaw?Have I mentioned he’s hot?Julian elbows me hard as we step onto the tarmac, where the helicopter gleams under the London sun like a smug little insect made of money. The air smells faintly of jet fuel and sunshine, and the blades are already spinning in slow motion, casting long, flickering shadows across the landing pad.“You’ve got a crush,” Julian sings under his breath.“I do not,” I hiss, adjusting my sunglasses to hide the flaming embarrassment crawling up my neck. “He just-he startled me.”“He startled you into flirting with your whole face?”I swat at him. “This is a work trip. I’m here to be professional and photogenic.”“Mission halfway accomplished.”We walk toward the helicopter, our steps echoing across the concrete, and that’s when a voice calls out behind us.“Tho

  • Pregnant By My Enemy's Fiancé   Chapter 21

    The world tastes sweeter with a double scoop of sea salt caramel dripping down my wrist.“Tell me again how you conned me into this?” I mumble around a mouthful of waffle cone as Julian drags me across the tiny parking lot of the private terminal.“You looked sad,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I’m a good friend. I’m legally obligated to bribe you with overpriced artisanal ice cream.”I squint at him. “You don’t even know what happened last night.”He grins, shameless. “Didn’t have to. You stormed into the hotel room at two A.M. looking like a kicked puppy and threatened to set fire to men’s dress shoes. I read between the lines, babe.”I snort, wiping sticky caramel off my fingers with a paper napkin that’s already falling apart.The morning sun is hot against my shoulders, my hair is frizzing at an alarming rate, and my stomach is vibrating from the unholy combination of sugar, caffeine, and suppressed rage.A tiny mean part of me wants to feel guilty for what we’re planning, but eve

  • Pregnant By My Enemy's Fiancé   Chapter 20

    The next day, I’m trying not to spiral.Really, I am.I sit at the little vanity in my hotel room, brushing out my hair in long, even strokes, willing myself not to look like a depressed Victorian ghost. The brush snags against the ends and tugs at my scalp, but I barely feel it.The room smells like that stupid lavender pillow spray the hotel leaves on the nightstand.My itinerary says I have a luxury underground wine tasting to attend this afternoon, and even if my soul feels like a stomped-on crumpled receipt, I have sponsors to impress.So, I slip into a casual but sophisticated little white dress, short, flowy, effortless, and pair it with kitten heels that make me feel vaguely like a woman who has her life together.I blow out my hair into soft waves and do my makeup just enough to hide the wreckage under my eyes. Concealer is a modern miracle. God bless the girlies who invented it.The plan is simple: look cute, take pictures, survive.Julian meets me downstairs, camera already

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