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Chapter Twenty-Seven Emily POV

Auteur: Pinkbee
last update Date de publication: 2026-07-10 14:59:55

Something felt wrong, not bad, just... different. I stood in the kitchen of my tiny apartment, staring at the cup of coffee in my hand. The smell alone made my stomach turn. My nose wrinkled. I quickly pushed the mug away. A wave of nausea rolled through me.

"Ugh."

I pressed a hand against my stomach, for the past week, I'd been exhausted, constantly tired.

Emotional and the nausea seemed to be getting worse.

At first, I'd blamed stress. After everything that had happened with Adrian. Leaving W
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  • The Bad Boy’s Bet   Chapter Twenty-Nine Emily POV

    Seven Months Pregnant“Emily, slow down.”I laughed as my mother hurried to catch up with me.“I’m pregnant, Mom, not fragile.”She narrowed her eyes.“That’s exactly what every stubborn pregnant woman says.”Dad chuckled from behind us. I rolled my eyes. For the first time in months, life felt… peaceful.My hand rested on my stomach as we walked through the small weekend market near my apartment. The movement came suddenly. A tiny kick. I froze. My eyes widened.“There she goes again.”Mom immediately gasped.“She kicked?”I nodded. Emotion clogging my throat. Every time I felt her move, it felt like a miracle. A tiny reminder that I wasn’t alone, that despite everything I had lost, I had gained something precious, something worth fighting for.Dad placed a protective hand on my shoulder. His eyes softened.“She’s going to be a handful.”I laughed. Something told me he was right. The baby had been active all morning. Kicking. Moving. Reminding me she existed. A little girl. My little

  • The Bad Boy’s Bet   Chapter Twenty-Eight Aiden POV

    Six months.Emily had been gone for six months and I still couldn’t let her go.“You’re obsessed.”Marcus’s voice barely registered.I continued staring at the laptop screen. Another dead end, another private investigator, another report that led nowhere. No address. No phone number. No university records. Nothing.Emily Kane had vanished completely. It was as if she’d disappeared from the face of the earth.Marcus dropped into the chair opposite my desk.“You know this is becoming unhealthy, right?”I leaned back and rubbed my eyes. I looked terrible. I knew it. The dark circles under my eyes. The exhaustion. The constant frustration.“I’m fine.”Marcus barked out a laugh.“You haven’t smiled in six months.”I ignored him.Because he wasn’t entirely wrong, life had become routine. School. Graduation. Preparing for university. Meetings with my father. Business training and in between all of it… Searching for Emily.The girl who haunted every part of my life. The girl I couldn’t forget

  • The Bad Boy’s Bet   Chapter Twenty-Seven Emily POV

    Something felt wrong, not bad, just... different. I stood in the kitchen of my tiny apartment, staring at the cup of coffee in my hand. The smell alone made my stomach turn. My nose wrinkled. I quickly pushed the mug away. A wave of nausea rolled through me."Ugh."I pressed a hand against my stomach, for the past week, I'd been exhausted, constantly tired.Emotional and the nausea seemed to be getting worse.At first, I'd blamed stress. After everything that had happened with Adrian. Leaving Westbridge, moving away and starting over in a new city. Stress seemed like a reasonable explanation but now… I wasn't so sure.My gaze drifted toward the calendar hanging on the wall, my heart skipped then stopped.No.Slowly, I walked closer.Counting the dates.Once.Twice.Three times.The color drained from my face. I was late, very late. My pulse began to race."No."The whisper escaped before I could stop it. My hands started shaking.No. No. No.That wasn't possible or maybe it was. A memo

  • The Bad Boy’s Bet   Chapter Twenty-Four Aiden POV

    Three months.Emily had been gone for three months. Ninety-two days. Not that I was counting. I stared at the map pinned to the wall of my bedroom.It was covered in notes. Addresses. Cities. Universities. Job listings. Every possible lead I had managed to find. Every dead end. Every place I thought Emily Kane might be. Every place she wasn't.The map looked ridiculous. Obsessive. Unhealthy. My mother had called it concerning. My father had called it a distraction. I called it hope. Because if I stopped searching, I would have to accept that she was really gone and I wasn't ready for that. Not yet, maybe not ever.A knock sounded on my bedroom door. I didn't answer. The door opened anyway, and my father stepped inside. His gaze immediately landed on the map. The same way it always did, with concern, disappointment and pity. I hated pity, especially from him."You're skipping dinner again."I returned my attention to the map."I'm not hungry.""You haven't been hungry for three mont

  • The Bad Boy’s Bet   Chapter Twenty Five - Emily POV

    I never went back to Westbridge. Not after that afternoon.Not after standing behind the greenhouse and listening to the boy I loved discuss the bet that had started everything.The memories still haunted me. Every word. Every laugh. Every second. Especially Aiden's silence. God. That silence. I had stood there waiting. Praying. Begging. For him to tell them they were lying. For him to say the bet had never happened. For him to defend us.Instead, all I'd heard was:"Drop it."Not that's not true. Not leave her out of this. Not you're wrong. Just...Drop it.As if our relationship was an embarrassing topic. As if I was an uncomfortable conversation he wanted to avoid.The memory made my chest ache. I blinked away the tears threatening to form and focused on folding another sweater into the open suitcase on my bed. My room looks different now. Empty. Boxes lined the walls. Drawers stood open. The life I'd built here was disappearing piece by piece. Tomorrow morning, I will leave Londo

  • The Bad Boy’s Bet   Chapter Twenty- Four Aiden’s POV

    I knew something was wrong the moment I stepped into the greenhouse.Emily wasn’t there.The rain hammered against the cracked glass roof, but the usual warmth I felt when waiting for her was gone. I checked my phone again. No new messages. The last one I’d sent her, On my way sat unread.I waited twenty minutes, pacing the damp wooden floor, heart already twisting with unease. She had been so happy last night. After we’d finally been together, after she had trusted me with her body and her heart, she had kissed me goodbye with soft eyes and whispered that she couldn’t wait to see me today.So where was she?I pulled out my phone and called her. Straight to voicemail.“Emily, it’s me. I’m at the greenhouse. Are you okay? Call me back.”I tried again. And again. Each time it went to voicemail.Panic started creeping in.I left the greenhouse and ran through the rain toward the main campus, hoping maybe she’d gone to the library instead. But our table was empty. Her usual spot by the w

  • The Bad Boy’s Bet   Chapter Twenty-Two Aiden’s POV

    The rain had stopped, but the air still carried that fresh, clean scent as we left the greenhouse. Emily’s hand was warm in mine, fingers loosely intertwined like she was still deciding how much she wanted to hold on. After our first real kiss, everything felt different, lighter, but also more frag

  • The Bad Boy’s Bet   Chapter Twenty-One Emily’s POV

    The greenhouse had become our place again.Not every day, but when the weight of the world felt too heavy, when my parents’ packing boxes appeared in the living room or when the fear of leaving became too loud, we found our way back here. Tonight was one of those nights.Rain pattered softly agains

  • The Bad Boy’s Bet   Chapter Sixteen - Emily’s POV

    The days blurred together in a strange, aching rhythm.I had asked for space, and Aiden was giving it to me exactly as I’d requested. He still came to the library some afternoons, but he sat three tables away, head down in his books, occasionally glancing up with those stormy gray eyes that made m

  • The Bad Boy’s Bet   Chapter Ten - Emily’s POV

    The library had become dangerous territory.Not because of what Aiden did, but because of what he was making me feel. Every afternoon for the past week, he showed up without fail. No grand gestures. No audience. Just him, sitting across from me, actually studying… or pretending to while we talked i

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