Remarrying My Billionaire Ex

OLIVIA'S POV "Mrs. Ross, the nanny quit."I looked up from the medication chart I was reviewing to find Victoria Ross standing in the doorway of Ethan's room, her Chanel suit perfectly pressed even at nine in the evening. After eighteen months of marriage to her son, I still wasn't used to being called "Mrs. Ross.""Which one?" I asked, setting down my pen. It was the third nanny in two months."Does it matter?" Victoria's lips thinned. "Ethan locked her in the pantry. She's threatening to sue."I sighed and glanced at the small boy curled up in his bed, pretending to be asleep. At six years old, Ethan Ross had perfected the art of psychological warfare against anyone his father hired to care for him. Anyone except me."I'll handle it," I said, standing. "How much does she want to keep quiet?"Victoria named a figure that made me wince. It would come out of the household budget I managed, which meant Damien would see it. Which meant another reminder that I was failing at the one job

DAMIEN'S POV "Mr. Ross, the embryos are viable."Dr. Chen's words should have filled me with relief, but instead I felt hollow. Across the consultation table, Emma squeezed my hand, her eyes bright with tears."That's wonderful," she breathed. "Catherine would be so happy."Would she? I'd been asking myself that question for three weeks, ever since I'd signed the initial contracts. Catherine had wanted more children. We'd planned for three, maybe four. But she'd also been spontaneous, warm, nothing like this clinical process."We can begin the surrogate matching process immediately," Dr. Chen continued. "Given your preferences for health history and education level, I have three candidates who—""I need a moment," I said, standing abruptly.Emma's smile faltered. "Damien?""Just a moment." I left the room, heading for the hallway.My phone buzzed. A text from my mother: *How's Ethan? He refused breakfast again.*I dialed her number. "What do you mean he refused?""Exactly that. Olivi

DAMIEN'S POVI found the crackers three days after our fight.A sleeve of saltines tucked behind the coffee maker. Another in the drawer next to the guest bathroom. I'd noticed them before and assumed she was stress eating, as Mrs. Patterson had mentioned. But now I looked closer.Ginger tea in the pantry. The kind marketed for nausea. Her usual coffee had been replaced with decaf for weeks. I'd noticed without registering it.I stood in the kitchen and did the math.The night of Catherine's anniversary. Four months ago.My stomach dropped.I went to find her.Olivia was in Ethan's room, listening to him read aloud. He'd started reading to her two weeks ago, small chapters from a picture book she'd bought him. I stood in the hallway and watched through the cracked door. Ethan's voice was careful, sounding out difficult words. Olivia corrected him gently without making him feel stupid.Three months ago, he hadn't spoken at all.I waited until she came out."I need to talk to you."She

DAMIEN'S POVI called James at six in the morning.He picked up on the third ring, already awake. "This better be important.""Olivia's pregnant."A long pause. "How long have you known?""Two days.""How long has she known?""Three months."Another pause, longer this time. "She hid it for three months and you're only finding out now. Think about what that tells you, Damien.""I know what it tells me.""Do you? Because from where I'm standing, a woman doesn't hide a pregnancy for three months unless she's already decided the father isn't safe to tell." He exhaled. "What are you going to do?""I asked her to stay in New York. To give me a week to figure things out.""Figure what things out exactly?""Emma. The surrogacy. All of it."James was quiet for a moment. "I told you Emma was a problem. I told you eight months ago. You didn't want to hear it.""I hear it now.""What changed?""Ethan told me Emma said Olivia was only here for the money. She's been talking to my six year old, pois

DAMIEN'S POVI'd spent two days trying to find the right words and kept arriving at the same problem. Nothing I said could undo what I'd already said. The night I'd called sleeping with her a betrayal. The months I'd spent making her feel like furniture in her own temporary home. The fact that she'd sat across from me at breakfast every morning for three months carrying my child and hadn't felt safe enough to tell me.Words weren't going to fix that. I knew it and she knew it.James came by the office Thursday afternoon uninvited, which meant Victoria had called him.He sat across my desk and didn't pretend to be there for business. "Tomorrow's the deadline.""I'm aware.""What are you going to say?""I don't know yet.""Damien." He leaned forward. "Stop managing this like a negotiation. It's not a contract. You can't find the optimal clause that protects all parties." He paused. "What do you actually want? Not what's practical. Not what's fair. What do you want?"I looked at the ultr