Pregnant for my ex’s enemy

Aria’s POV Every betrayal begins long before the truth comes to light. Mine began three years ago, though I didn’t realize it then. If someone had asked me that morning what my future looked like, I would have answered without hesitation. I was twenty-six, engaged to one of London’s most successful young businessmen, and only hours away from celebrating the beginning of the rest of my life. By midnight, I would lose everything. The Grand Astoria Hotel had been transformed into a masterpiece of gold and crystal. Chandeliers spilled warm light across polished marble floors, while a string quartet played softly in the background. Waiters moved gracefully through the ballroom with silver trays of champagne, and every corner buzzed with conversations between London’s wealthiest and most influential guests. Tonight wasn’t simply an engagement party—it was a declaration. The Vale family wanted the city to witness Adrian Vale’s next great milestone, and I was expected to smile beautifully

Aria’s POV I stood outside my apartment for nearly a minute, my fingers wrapped around the cold metal handle without turning it. The hallway was silent—too silent and it gave me just enough time to imagine a hundred different versions of what waited on the other side of the door. Perhaps Adrian had already left. Perhaps he had realized there was nothing left to explain. Perhaps last night had finally forced him to accept that some things couldn’t be repaired. Deep down, I knew none of those things were true. Adrian never walked away from a situation he believed he could control. I drew a slow breath and unlocked the door. The familiar scent of cedar and freshly brewed coffee greeted me, a cruel reminder that someone had made themselves comfortable. The living room lights were on despite the morning sun pouring through the windows. Two untouched mugs rested on the coffee table. His suit jacket lay folded neatly over the arm of my sofa, as though he still belonged here. The quie

Aria’s POV The knock on my door didn’t feel like a normal knock. It was sharp. Controlled. Familiar in the worst way. I already knew who it was before I even moved. Adrian. He never waited when he wanted answers. Bianca stood a few steps behind me in the living room, completely calm, like she had been expecting this moment all along. “Don’t open it yet,” she said softly. I turned slightly toward her. “This is my apartment,” I replied. A faint smile touched her lips. “And he is your fiancé,” she said. “That means he won’t leave until he gets what he wants.” The knock came again. Stronger this time. “Aria. Open the door,” Adrian’s voice called through it. My chest tightened, not from fear, but from frustration. Because this wasn’t how I imagined my life ending up. Not standing in my own home, choosing between silence and confrontation. I walked to the door anyway. Bianca didn’t stop me. She just watched. When I opened it, Adrian stepped inside immediately. No greeti

Aria’s POV The apartment went silent after the voice outside mentioned reporters. For a moment, nobody moved. The weight of those words pressed against the walls, thickening the air until it felt difficult to breathe. Adrian turned sharply toward Damien, his eyes narrowing with accusation. “What the hell did you bring here?” Damien barely reacted. His calmness was unnerving. “I didn’t bring anything,” he said evenly. “They follow me everywhere.” “That’s supposed to make this better?” Adrian’s voice carried irritation, but beneath it was something else,unease. The kind that comes when control slips too quickly through your fingers. Another knock hit the door, louder, more impatient. “Mr. Blackwell?” Damien ignored it completely. His attention stayed on me. “You need to stay inside tonight,” he said. The words came naturally, like he was used to people listening. I frowned. “And why exactly would I listen to you?” “Because reporters downstairs means cameras,” he replied. “

Damien’s POV I should have left the apartment an hour ago. That would have been the smart thing to do. Instead, I stood near Aria’s living room window watching reporters gather outside her building while every instinct in me refused to walk away. The situation had escalated faster than expected, and that irritated me. I did not like unpredictability. Yet Aria Collins had become unpredictable the moment she entered my life. Behind me, Adrian paced across the apartment like a man desperate to regain control of a situation already slipping through his fingers. Bianca sat quietly on the edge of the couch, scrolling through her phone while pretending not to listen, though I knew she was absorbing every word. My attention, however, remained fixed on only one person. Aria. She stood near the hallway, holding herself together with more strength than most people would have managed tonight. Humiliation exhausted people differently. I knew that better than anyone. Still, she had not cried on