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Chapter Fourty One
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2025-08-17 10:49:41
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Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Fourty Three
Mira’s P.O.V The rain had stopped hours ago, but the scent of it lingered in the air—damp earth, cold wind, and that faint metallic taste that always seemed to come after a storm. It should’ve been calming. It should’ve been the kind of night that lulled me to sleep. But instead, my nerves were stretched thin, my heart restless. Luca wasn’t home yet. It was past midnight. The faint hum of the security lights outside was the only sound cutting through the silence of the mansion. I’d already changed into my robe, brushed my hair, and told myself a dozen times to stop pacing—but my feet wouldn’t listen. Every time I glanced at the clock, I counted the hours since he’d left. And every time, my mind went back to that look in his eyes when he stepped out tonight. Cold. Determined. Like he was going somewhere dangerous, somewhere I wasn’t supposed to follow. I hugged myself tighter. Manang Silva had gone to bed, but not before giving me that knowing glance again—the one that said she w
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Fourty Two
Mira’s P.O.V The silence after our argument was deafening. It clung to the air, thick and heavy, like the humid stillness before a storm. I could still feel the weight of Luca’s gaze even though I wasn’t looking at him. My hands were shaking—partly from the rush of emotions, partly from the fact that I didn’t know if I had just made things worse. I turned my back to him, pretending to be busy with the throw pillows on the couch. My heart, however, was racing far faster than my hands were moving. I heard him take a slow breath, the kind that was meant to steady himself, but instead, it sent a ripple of tension down my spine. “You think I’m your enemy, Mira,” Luca said finally, his voice low, almost tired. I didn’t answer. Because right now, I didn’t know. All I knew was that his world—this cold, dangerous, secretive place—was swallowing mine whole. And I was afraid. Not just for me… but for the baby. He stepped closer. I could feel him behind me without even looking. Hi
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Fourty One
Mira’s P.O.V The late afternoon sun spilled golden light through the French windows, casting long shadows across the living room. I sat curled into one corner of the cream-colored sofa, sipping chamomile tea more for comfort than taste. My mind kept drifting back to the conversation I’d overheard that morning—Luca’s voice low, sharp, speaking to someone named Marco. I hadn’t caught everything, but there had been an edge in his tone, the kind that came out when something—or someone—threatened control. I had been ready to ask him about it over lunch, but when I came downstairs, I found him in a tailored navy suit, a stark contrast to my loose maternity dress, holding a thick cream envelope in one hand. His expression shifted when he saw me. “Perfect timing,” he said, walking toward me. “I was going to bring this to you.” I set my tea on the coffee table. “What is it?” He handed me the envelope. The heavy cardstock bore the embossed insignia of the Manila Heritage Foundation—gol
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Fourthy
Mira's P.O.V The first thing I noticed when I woke up wasn’t the sunlight. It was Luca’s voice. Low, sharp, clipped. Coming from the corner of the room where he stood with his back to me, phone pressed to his ear. I didn’t move right away. My breathing stayed slow, pretending I was still asleep, but my ears strained to catch every word. “No, Marco,” he said, his tone a warning in itself. “I told you, that property stays quiet until I say otherwise.” Marco. The name lodged in my mind like a splinter. I’d never heard him mention it before. A pause. Then his voice dropped lower. “We’ll meet tonight. Not here.” A faint rustle—he was running a hand through his hair. He only did that when he was irritated. “No mistakes this time.” And just like that, he ended the call. I shut my eyes a moment before he turned toward the bed. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat on the edge. His fingers brushed my arm lightly—too lightly for him. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured.
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Thirty Nine
Mira's P.O.V The rain hadn’t stopped since yesterday. It fell in sheets against the tall glass windows, the gray light bleeding into every corner of the De Silva mansion. The weather matched the weight pressing down on my chest—thick, cold, and impossible to shake off. Luca had been gone since early morning. He didn’t say where, only that he had “business” to take care of. His voice had been clipped, his eyes unreadable. It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear without explanation. But after everything that happened yesterday—the tense words, the almost-kiss, the way his hand lingered on my cheek like he was holding back something—it felt different. As if we were both avoiding a truth we didn’t know how to face. I sat at the small breakfast table in the conservatory, staring at a half-empty cup of tea gone cold. My phone was beside me, screen black, though I’d been waiting for it to light up all morning. Nothing. No call. No text. No explanation. “Still no word from him?” Manang
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Thirty Eight
Mira’s P.O.V. The rain hadn’t stopped. If anything, it seemed to have grown heavier after dawn, turning the world outside my window into a blur of gray and silver. I stood there for a while, watching the drops race each other down the glass, trying to piece together the fragments of last night into something that made sense. It didn’t. Every sound, every shadow, every pause in the storm kept replaying in my head—but they were just pieces. Pieces without the picture. And Luca wasn’t going to give me the picture. I could feel it in the way he’d looked at me this morning—his eyes softer than his voice, his touch gentle but fleeting. Like he was both relieved I was safe and already calculating how to keep me that way. Which meant whatever had happened downstairs wasn’t over. --- I pulled my sweater tighter around me and sat on the edge of the bed. The baby rolled again, a slow, lazy movement, and I pressed my palm against the curve of my stomach. “You heard it too, didn’t you?”
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