Pregnant for my ex’s enemy

Aria’s POV For three years I believed I was building a future with Adrian Vale. To the outside world, he was everything a successful man should be—charming when people were watching, confident when business demanded it, and always surrounded by the kind of attention that made him look untouchable. He was the kind of man people admired before they even knew him properly, the kind of man who seemed to carry certainty in his stride. And I had been the woman beside him, the one who waited, the one who understood, the one who kept believing that love sometimes meant patience even when it hurt. Tonight was supposed to be the culmination of that patience. Our engagement celebration. A night that confirmed everything we had worked for, the promise of a shared life finally acknowledged in front of everyone who mattered. Instead, it became the night I lost everything. The hall shimmered with soft golden lights, chandeliers scattering reflections across polished floors. Laughter floated throug

Aria’s POV I stood outside my apartment door for several seconds without moving. My hand rested on the handle, but my body felt heavier than usual, as though something inside me already knew what was waiting on the other side. Adrian was inside. I could feel it before I even saw him. Not physically, but in the way my chest tightened when I thought of him sitting there, pretending nothing had happened, pretending last night didn’t exist. I inhaled slowly and pushed the door open. The moment I stepped inside, I saw him. Adrian, He was sitting on the sofa like he belonged there, like he had been waiting for me for a long time. His suit jacket was folded neatly beside him, his shirt loosened slightly at the collar. His expression was calm, his posture controlled. Too calm. That was what made my stomach tighten, because Adrian only looked like that when he was trying to manage a situation. He stood immediately when he saw me. “Aria,” he said, as if my name alone was enough to reset every

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