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Chapter Twenty One
publish date:
2026-03-26 19:46:14
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THE PREGNANT VIRGIN AND THE RUTHLESS HEIR Chapter Thirty Two
Kumba.It has been a few days since my confrontation with Gesare at the parking lot and yet her words still haunted me.I have always loved being in control, having things go my way, but everything was beyond my control here and it was killing me.This is the only place I always felt in control but somehow I still felt like I was not in control.I stand by the desk, flipping through a set of documents for the meeting I have in less than thirty minutes, my attention split between numbers, projections, and timelines.This is where I belong, not hospital parking lots, here I am always in control, everyone listens to me, they take orders from me.I walk over to the window overlooking the city when my phone vibrates against the desk.I glance at it and see the name Ray and my jaw tightens instantly.I had forgotten to let him know to stop looking into Gesare and her past and I am certain he is cal
THE PREGNANT VIRGIN AND THE RUTHLESS HEIR Chapter Thirty One
Kumba.I wake up to sunlight, and for a second, I don’t move. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together where I am without actually thinking about it.Then I feel it, a body next to mine, Moraa. Everything from last night comes back in fragments, blurred edges, sharp moments, the taste of whiskey still sitting heavy at the back of my throat.I close my eyes briefly, exhaling through my nose.“Good morning,” her voice comes out, soft, almost careful.I turn my head slightly.She is sitting up in bed, a tray balanced neatly across her lap. Breakfast, Juice, Coffee, the whole picture of something domestic. It's one of the things I always loved about her, she was feminine. I look at her and she is smiling up at me, I push myself up slowly, my body heavier than usual, my head dull but manageable.“Morning,” I mutter.She shifts closer, placing the tray in front of me like it means something.“I thought you might be hungry,” she says. “You didn’t really eat anythi
THE PREGNANT VIRGIN AND THE RUTHLESS HEIR Chapter Thirty
Kumba.I don’t move for a while long after she is gone. I just stand there in the parking lot, staring at the empty space where she was standing like if I look hard enough, she will somehow come back but she doesn’t.My jaw tightens, my hands curling into fists at my sides.“It’s time for you to move on with your life.”The words replay in my head, over and over again.A bitter laugh almost escapes me as I think of the irony of it all. A homeless girl who had close to nothing was brushing me off, normally I was the one doing the brushing off. I drag a hand down my face, exhaling sharply, trying to steady something inside me that feels like it’s spiraling out of control.This is ridiculous, she is a girl I barely know, someone I was just helping and yet I can't get her off my mind. But my mother was right, I was neglecting my duties trying to play hero to a woman I barely knew, it was time I went bacl to my normal life and focus on more important things. I turn sharply and head bac
THE PREGNANT VIRGIN AND THE RUTHLESS HEIR Chapter Twenty Nine
Gesare"Can I start the treatment after I have the baby?" I ask her sitting back down, "I only have five more months to go." "You can but the" her phone rings the sharp sound slices through the silence, making me flinch slightly.She glances at the screen and something in her expression shifts slightly.“Excuse me, I have to take this,” she says softly.She turns the phone just enough that I see the name, of course it was Kumba calling her. “Please don’t answer that,” I say quickly, my voice lower than I expect.She pauses and looks at me confused “Gesare”“Please,” I repeat, softer now. “Don’t tell him I am here.”There is something in my voice I don’t recognize when I say it. “He has helped me enough,” I continue, my fingers tightening slightly in my lap. “And I appreciate it, I really do.” I swallow.“But he has his own life. His own personal relationships he should be focusing on.”Moraa’s face flashes in my mind, how furious she had been when she saw me in kumba's house, and
THE PREGNANT VIRGIN AND THE RUTHLESS HEIR Chapter Twenty Eight
Gesare.Her phone rings and at first she tries to ignore it but it rings again. The sharp sound slices through the silence, making me flinch slightly.She glances at the screen and something in her expression shifts, just slightly.“Excuse me,” she says softly still holding the ringing phone. She turns the phone just enough that I see the name, it's Kumba. “Please don’t answer that,” I say quickly, my voice lower than I expected but loud enough for her to hear.She pauses and looks at me.“Gesare” she starts, but I immediately cut her off. “Please,” I repeat, softer now. “Don’t tell him I am here.”There iw something in my voice I don’t recognize.“He has helped me enough,” I continue, my fingers tightening slightly in my lap. “And I appreciate it, I really do.” I swallow.“But he has his own life. His own personal relationships.”Moraa’s face flashes in my mind.“I was ruining that by staying in his house,” I add quietly. “He needs to move on and I need to move on with my life to
THE PREGNANT VIRGIN AND THE RUTHLESS HEIR Chapter Twenty Seven
GesareThe motel smells like bleach I notice it the second I step inside thanks to the nausea I have been experiencing. It’s not unbearable just persistent. Like it’s soaked into the walls, the curtains, the thin carpet beneath my shoes. The kind of smell that tells you a hundred different stories have passed through here, none of them particularly happy.I tighten my grip on the strap of my bag as I walk up to the reception desk.The man behind it barely looks at me.“Room?” he asks flatly.“Yes,” I answer, my voice quieter than I intend. “Just for a couple of days.”He nods, taps something lazily on his computer, then names a price, it's cheap, cheaper than I expected.That should make me feel better but it doesn't, but I pay anyway.Because this is what I chose and it's getting dark outside and I am exhausted, I need to lay down, I can't walk anymore. A few minutes later, I am standing in front of a narrow door with peeling paint, a small brass number hanging slightly crooked.Ro
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