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Chapter Eighteen
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2025-08-05 12:16:08
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Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Fourteen
Mira’s P.O.VThe night had settled fully by the time the lamps in the sunroom were lit.Soft amber light spilled across the tiled floor, chasing away the sharpness of the glass walls but not their weight. Outside, the garden was gone to shadow, the roses nothing more than dark shapes swallowed by the night. Only the faint line of the pine trees remained visible, their silhouettes stretching upward like blackened spines.I sat back in the wicker chair, the blanket now draped loosely across my lap. My body ached with the heaviness of the day—the baby pressing insistently beneath my ribs, my ankles swollen, my chest tight with a restlessness I could not shake.Across from me, Luca had not moved much since sitting down. He leaned back, one arm resting over the chair’s edge, posture deceptively casual. But his eyes… they never softened. They followed every shift in me—the way I pressed my hand against my stomach, the way my shoulders sagged under the weight of exhaustion.The silence betwe
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Thirteen
Mira’s P.O.VEvening had not fully arrived, yet the air carried the weight of it.The glass walls of the sunroom, so open during daylight, now seemed to thicken with shadow. The roses outside, vivid just an hour ago, had darkened into muted patches of red, their outlines blurring against the creeping dusk. The pine trees looked sharper now, their shapes carved into black against the fading sky, like watchmen who never needed rest.I shifted in the wicker chair, the blanket slipping against my skin. Its fabric was softer than I expected, almost too soft, like something chosen with careful thought. My hands lingered on its edge, rubbing the hem between my fingers, and the smallest pang of unease flickered through me. Was it Ana’s kindness alone, or had Luca instructed it? Nothing in this house seemed untouched by his reach.The baby moved again. Not restless this time—more like a slow, deliberate turn inside me. My breath caught at the sensation, my body yielding to the child’s quiet in
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Twelve
Mira’s P.O.VThe hours after Luca left the study passed in fragments, not in whole pieces.I drifted from one room to another, tracing the same polished halls as though the walls themselves might shift if I caught them at the right moment. But they never did. They only stared back, smooth and unyielding, their silence pressing closer with each step.By late afternoon, I found myself in the villa’s sunroom, a space that looked as though it had been designed for someone else entirely. Glass stretched across three walls, tall panes catching the slant of the sun. The light poured in unrestrained, gold at first, then tinged with amber as the day tilted toward evening. Dust clung to the air again, but here it glowed warmer, suspended in the beams like tiny stars.The wicker chair creaked faintly under my weight when I lowered myself onto it. I smoothed the robe across my knees, then rested my hands against the taut swell of my stomach. The baby shifted
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Eleven
Mira’s P.O.VMorning had already given way to late sunlight when I found myself sitting near the wide window of the villa’s study. The curtains had been pulled back just enough to let the light in, spilling across the desk in warm sheets of gold. Dust floated lazily in the air, tiny motes glimmering whenever they caught the light, and for a moment I sat still, watching them drift as though they had no weight.I envied them.My own body felt nothing but weight—of the child inside me pressing insistently against my ribs, of the silence pressing into my chest, of the unspoken words I kept swallowing every time Luca entered the room.The scent of polished wood lingered around me, varnish and old leather mixing faintly in the air. The study smelled nothing like the lavender-soaked bedroom or the sterile brightness of the kitchen. Here, the air was heavier, darker. A space built for decisions, for power, not comfort. I wondered if Luca had chosen this place for me to sit today—if even my sm
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Ten
Mira’s P.O.VThe morning didn’t arrive all at once—it seeped in slowly, like a reluctant tide. A gray light filtered through the pale curtains, painting faint shadows across the room. The faint perfume of lavender clung to the air, heavier now, as if the walls themselves had absorbed it overnight.I woke with a weight in my chest that had nothing to do with sleep. My body felt stretched thin, skin taut around the swell of my stomach. The baby pressed upward, restless against my ribs. I shifted carefully, letting my palms rest on either side of the curve, murmuring soft words into the quiet.The cradle caught my eye again. Always there. Its polished wood gleamed even in the weak light, standing sentinel near the window. I had tried not to look at it the night before, but this morning it seemed impossible to ignore. The emptiness of it felt louder than any sound in the villa.I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the cool boards against my bare feet grounding me for a moment. Every
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter One Hundred Nine
Mira’s P.O.VThe night settled differently in the villa. It wasn’t heavy like the mansion’s shadows, where every corner felt sharp and hostile. Here, the dark came softer—muted by pale curtains drawn across tall windows, softened by the faint fragrance of lavender that lingered in the wood. Yet the softness unnerved me more than the sharpness ever had. It felt staged. Crafted.I lay half-propped against pillows, one hand resting on the curve of my stomach, the other pressed to the sheets, tracing their texture absentmindedly. The linen was smooth, cool against my skin, and smelled faintly of starch. I tried to breathe slowly, to convince myself the calm of this place could seep into me. But my body betrayed me—the restless tap of my foot against the mattress, the quick rhythm of my pulse.The baby moved again, a long slow roll beneath my ribs that made me suck in a sharp breath. I stroked the swell of my belly with my fingertips, whispering without sound,
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