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08 A Mother’s Fury
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2025-09-05 03:37:46
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Pregnant for the Heartless Billionaire 124 The Bead and the Ghosts
Damien’s POVFor a long while after Lucas handed me the Buddha bead, I couldn’t speak.It rested in my palm, smooth and worn, its wooden surface darkened by years of touch. I remembered it instantly, Paul used to wear it wrapped around his wrist, a constant reminder of calm. He was spiritual like that. Said it helped him centre himself when the world was too loud.Now it was here, in my hand. The last thing he’d owned before everything went wrong.“This was Paul’s,” Lucas said quietly, his eyes dim but steady. “I’ve kept it all these years. I thought… maybe you should have it.”The bead felt heavier than it looked.“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice tight. “He would’ve wanted it to stay close.”The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It hummed with ghosts.Lucas looked at me, then away. “I still don’t understand how it all happened,” he said softly. “Everything was fine. Then it wasn’t, and then my son was gone.”My chest tightened.The memories came flooding back like cracks in a dam.
Pregnant for the Heartless Billionaire 123 The Return of Lucas Jefferson (Part 2)
Damien’s POVWe fell silent again. I glanced toward the mantel and saw a framed photograph, Paul, grinning with his arm around his father, taken just before everything went wrong. My throat tightened.“I wish you’d told me you were back,” I said quietly. “I would have visited sooner.”He sighed. “I wasn’t sure I’d stay. The city holds too many ghosts.”“You’ve learned to live with them,” I said.“Not live,” he corrected softly. “Coexist.”We both chuckled lightly at that.For a long while, we just sat there, sipping tea the housekeeper brought in. The quiet was strangely comforting.But as I watched him, fragments of the past began piecing themselves together, his strained marriage, the bitterness that once filled this house, and the name that always caused him to flinch. Isabelle.I remembered the tension in his voice whenever she was mentioned. And now, after all these years, the truth made grim sense.Isabelle wasn’t his daughter. She was the result of his wife’s affair with anothe
Pregnant for the Heartless Billionaire 122 The Return of Lucas Jefferson
Damien’s POVThe voice on the phone had taken me back years. Lucas Jefferson.I hadn’t heard that name in so long that for a moment, I thought I was imagining it. But it was him, Paul’s father, the man who had once treated me like a son.He said he’d just arrived back in the country and wanted to see me. No details, no explanations. Just that simple request. And there was no question of saying no.After Paul’s death, Lucas had left everything behind. I remembered how it broke him, how his shoulders had slumped as though the world had physically pressed down on him. Paul was his only son. Losing him had shattered every reason he had for staying. He’d sold the family yacht, closed the small investment firm he once managed, and vanished.For a while, I tried reaching out, but the calls went unanswered. Eventually, I stopped. Sometimes grief needed silence more than company.Now he was back.I set aside everything I’d planned for the day, meetings, calls, even a scheduled session with the
Pregnant for the Heartless Billionaire 121 The Call from the Past
Damien’s POVThe city skyline was just beginning to fade into dusk when Mathias’s name flashed across my phone. I’d been expecting the call, the board had been pressing him for updates since the Reynolds proposal leaked.I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temple before answering. “Mathias.”“Evening, Damien,” he greeted, his voice carrying that mixture of fatigue and precision that came with decades of handling high-stake negotiations. “I’m calling about the Reynolds matter. I heard James has been making moves behind the scenes to reopen merger discussions.”A muscle twitched in my jaw. “He has no authority to make those calls. Not anymore.”“That’s what I told them,” Mathias said. “But the chatter is growing. I need to know if we’re still pursuing the merger or not.”I swiveled my chair toward the window, eyes tracing the glint of lights reflected in the glass. “Reynolds is too small a company for a merger,” I said flatly. “A merger implies equality, and there’s nothing equal abo
Pregnant for the Heartless Billionaire 120 Ethan’s Outburst
Elena’s POVThe air inside the interrogation room shifted the moment Adrian told Ethan to back off. The tension didn’t fade, it only rearranged itself. Silence stretched, thick and uneasy, until Ethan finally spoke.His voice trembled at first, then sharpened. “So that’s it?” he said bitterly. “You’ll just let him control everything, even now?”I frowned. “Ethan, ”He ignored me and turned to Adrian, fury simmering in his voice. “He’s playing husband now, isn’t he? Where was he for the past five years, huh? When she was struggling to raise his children?” His tone rose with every word. “We might not be as wealthy and powerful as him, but at least we were there, for his wife, and for his children!”The words hit me like a slap.I didn’t even notice when I stood up. My pulse thudded in my ears, my throat tightening. For a second, I wasn’t in the police station anymore, I was back in those years when the whispers followed me everywhere.The abandoned wife. The one Damien left. The
Pregnant for the Heartless Billionaire 119 The Confrontation at the Station
Elena’s POVThe police station smelled of old paper, disinfectant, and fear.I’d walked through those glass doors before, but never like this, never as the victim in someone else’s game. My shoes clicked on the tiled floor, the sound too loud in the corridor. Officers glanced up as I passed, some whispering, others pretending not to stare. It wasn’t every day that “Mrs. Rothschild” walked into the precinct.Adrian met me at the front desk. He looked like he hadn’t slept, his coat slightly rumpled, eyes sharp with focus.“Thank you for coming,” he said quietly.“What’s happening?” I asked.He didn’t answer right away. He motioned for me to follow him through a side hallway, away from the curious stares. We stopped in front of an interrogation room with a glass wall.And that’s when I saw her.Annabel Oswald.She was nothing like the woman I’d faced before, no pearls, no pressed silk, no smug smile that usually followed her like perfume. Her makeup was streaked from tears, her hair a me
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