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Chapter Ninety-Eight
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2025-09-09 07:29:11Mira’s P.O.V
The door swung inward with a weight that made my breath seize. I braced for Luca’s broad frame, his dark stare ready to strip the truth out of me. But it wasn’t Luca who entered. A nurse stepped inside instead, balancing a clipboard against her chest. Her eyes flicked between me and Elijah, sensing the tension that crackled in the air. “Doctor,” she said carefully. “There’s a call waiting for you. From the hospital.” Elijah’s jaw clenched. For a moment, he didn’t move, his gaze still fixed on me, as though afraid I would vanish if he looked away. Then, with visible effort, he nodded. “Tell them I’ll return the call shortly.” The nurse hesitated, glanced at me again, then slipped out, shutting the door softly behind her. I exhaled, slow and shaky. The silence that followed was louder than her footsteps. Elijah turned back to me, his expression taut. “You’re playing a
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Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Ninety-Nine
Mira's P.O.VThe ride back to the mansion felt endless. I kept my eyes pinned to the window, watching the blur of trees and fading sky, pretending to be absorbed by them when in truth I was counting my own heartbeats. My hand was tight around the edge of my coat, nails pressing into the fabric. Every minute dragged, and when the iron gates finally appeared, my chest tightened even more.The guards moved quickly when the car stopped, opening the gates without a word. Still, I noticed the way their gaze lingered on me through the tinted glass—longer than usual, sharp in a way that made my skin crawl. Luca must have said something. I forced myself to sit still, not to fidget, not to betray the heat rising to my cheeks.The crunch of gravel under the tires filled my ears. When the mansion came into view, glowing under the last light of dusk, I suddenly didn’t see it as home. Tonight, it looked like something else entirely—tall and watchful, its windows like un
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Ninety-Eight
Mira’s P.O.V The door swung inward with a weight that made my breath seize. I braced for Luca’s broad frame, his dark stare ready to strip the truth out of me. But it wasn’t Luca who entered. A nurse stepped inside instead, balancing a clipboard against her chest. Her eyes flicked between me and Elijah, sensing the tension that crackled in the air. “Doctor,” she said carefully. “There’s a call waiting for you. From the hospital.” Elijah’s jaw clenched. For a moment, he didn’t move, his gaze still fixed on me, as though afraid I would vanish if he looked away. Then, with visible effort, he nodded. “Tell them I’ll return the call shortly.” The nurse hesitated, glanced at me again, then slipped out, shutting the door softly behind her. I exhaled, slow and shaky. The silence that followed was louder than her footsteps. Elijah turned back to me, his expression taut. “You’re playing a
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Ninety-Seven
Mira’s P.O.V The morning came heavy, like the house itself was aware of the secret pressed against my skin. I moved through the routine with deliberate calm—sitting at breakfast with Luca, sipping the tea the maids poured, smiling when he asked if I felt well enough to eat. He studied me with that same quiet intensity. As though each word, each breath, was another puzzle piece he meant to fit into place. I could feel the receipt folded deep inside my robe pocket, hidden like a knife. “Elijah called,” Luca said suddenly, lifting his coffee cup without looking at me. His tone was casual, but my chest tightened. “He wants to check on you again this week. I’ll have someone drive you.” I forced my hand not to tighten on the spoon. Elijah. His name in Luca’s mouth was steady, untroubled, but to me it was a thunderclap. The same name I had found in Cassandra’s shadows. “Maybe,” I whispered, pretending indifference. “I’ll see if I feel up to it.” Luca’s gaze lifted, sharp, as though te
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Eighty-Six
Mira’s P.O.VI didn’t return the journal to its hiding place.I couldn’t.Instead, I tucked it under folded clothes in the back of my wardrobe, close enough that I could reach it at night, hidden enough that Luca wouldn’t stumble on it. The act alone made my hands shake. I had never lied so boldly before, never carried a secret that pulsed like contraband in my chest.But now that I had Cassandra’s voice, her words inked in restless loops, there was no turning away.For days, I moved like a shadow in my own life. Luca noticed—I could feel it in the way his eyes lingered on me longer, his questions sharper, his touches almost too deliberate, like he was testing whether I would flinch. And sometimes I did. Sometimes I felt his hand on my shoulder and thought of Cassandra’s warnings written in hurried script: If I vanish, let this be proof.I should have been focused on the baby, on the small shifts in my body that came each morning. But every time I pressed a hand to my stomach, I thoug
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Ninety-Five
Mira’s P.O.VThe journal pressed against my ribs felt like a second heartbeat. Even when Luca’s arm draped back over me, even as he drifted into sleep again, the weight of that leather-bound book refused to let me rest.I waited. Breath shallow, body still, counting the seconds until his breathing deepened into the slow rhythm of sleep. My fingers twitched against the sheets, aching to reach for the journal, to open it under the faint glow of the lamp. But his warmth was a cage, and I knew the slightest shift would wake him.So I endured.Hours stretched like days until the sky outside the curtains paled with the first light of dawn. Luca finally rolled onto his side, loosening his hold. My body slipped free from his like a shadow escaping a net. I pulled on my robe again, tucked the journal beneath it, and left the bedroom with my heart pounding so loud I swore it echoed in the hallway.The house had begun to stir—quiet movements of staff preparing breakfast, faint clatter from the k
Pregnant By The Billionaire Chapter Ninety-Four
Mira’s POV The mansion was never truly silent. Even at night, when the halls emptied and the lights dimmed, the house breathed. Pipes hummed, old wood creaked, wind whispered through the shutters. Most people ignored those sounds, but lying awake in bed beside Luca, I had learned to hear them all. That night, they felt louder. I turned on my side, careful not to wake him. Luca’s arm was draped heavy across my waist, his breath slow, steady, almost peaceful. But I couldn’t close my eyes. My mind was still in the study, still replaying the words he had spoken in a voice too sharp, too final: Bury it. For good. I slipped my hand under his, resting it against my stomach where the baby shifted faintly. Life moved inside me, fragile and stubborn. I knew then that rest would not come—not while questions pressed down like stones on my chest. Slowly, carefully, I eased out from under Luca’s arm. He stirred, murmured s
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