Chapter 11

ISABELLA'S POV 

The hotel room feels sterile and cold compared to the penthouse I left behind it feels smaller with each passing day. I sit on the edge of the bed with my white mug clutched in both hands, staring at the plain wall. Three days have passed since I walked out, yet my heart and body still aches with the memory of Ethan ... the delicious soreness between my thighs, the faint bruises on my hips from his grip, the sensitivity of my breasts where he sucked and bit so relentlessly.

I close my eyes and the memories flood back to me uninvited. His stubble scraping my inner thighs as he devoured my pussy on the kitchen island until I squirted on his tongue. The thick, veined length of his fat cock stretching me open on the couch, pounding me so deep I felt him in my womb. The way he fucked my tits, sliding between them while I licked the leaking head. The shower where he held me against the tiles and fucked me while standing, even the water mixing with our sweat and cum. The slow, grinding missionary sessions at dawn where he kissed me like he was drowning and I was a raft.

But all of it meant nothing to him.

He knew Natalie was the one who drugged him. He had concrete proof for days and still chose to keep it from me. Every time I asked, every vulnerable moment after he filled me with his cum, he stayed silent. To him, I was just a convenient body to lose himself in after the drug tore down his walls. A habit. Nothing more.

I have to make myself busy so I sit at the small desk, and start reviewing financial models on my laptop... old habits from my days as a Financial Analyst fresh out of university. Numbers had always been safe. Predictable. Unlike Ethan Sinclair.

A soft knock sounded. Sofia entered, carrying coffee and determination on her face.

“You look like hell,” she said, hugging me tightly. “Have you eaten?”

I managed a weak smile. “Not much.”

ETHAN'S POV

The penthouse is a fucking tomb.

Its been days since she left, and I still haven’t touched the torn divorce papers scattered on my office floor. I walk past them every morning like a punishment. The silence presses on me heavier than any boardroom pressure I’ve ever faced.

I stand at the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city, with whiskey in my hand, my cock half-hard despite jerking off twice already today. My mind won’t stop replaying her.

The way she moaned when I dropped to my knees in the hallway and ate her soaked pussy against the wall, her juices running down my chin. How her full tits bounced as I fucked her on the kitchen island, sucking her nipples raw while slamming into her cervix. The obscene sight of my thick cock sliding between her breasts as she licked the tip. The way her tight cunt clenched and milked me when I railed her on the bedroom floor, grinding deep into her until she screamed.

I groan and palm my cock through my pants. I’m hard again and painfully so. I pull it out and stroke it roughly, with my eyes closed, remembering how she rode me in a reverse cowgirl position, the sight of her ass rippling with every bounce while I spanked her red nearly undoes me everytime. How she squirted around me when I fucked her mercilessly.

“Fuck, Isabella,” I growl to the empty room as I pump faster, imagining her tight heat instead of my fist. I come hard, thick ropes splattering the window, but the release brings no satisfaction. Just emptiness.

I zip up, clean my hands and the windows and pour another drink for myself. Natalie has been handled I make sure she is quietly blacklisted from every event that matters. But punishing her feels hollow now. The real damage is here, in this too-quiet apartment where Isabella’s scent has finally faded from the sheets.

I should go get her. Drag her back. Tie her to my bed and fuck her until she forgets she ever signed those papers. Remind her how perfectly her pussy takes my cock, how she screams my name when I’m buried to the hilt.

But stubborn pride keeps me rooted. She left after she signed those divorce papers. If she can walk away after I claimed every inch of her body so thoroughly, and she came apart in my arms night after night, then maybe this is what she really wants.

I’m not chasing her.

ISABELLA'S POV

By the end of the week, I’ve thrown myself into planning my future, I begin by researching the Master’s program in Financial Innovation in London, outlining my fintech startup idea focused on helping families escape crushing debt. Numbers had always been my safe space, ever since I graduated university and stepped into the role of Financial Analyst, trying to clean up my father’s mess.

But my body had other plans.

I had missed my period.

At first, I brushed it off as stress. Then the nausea started, it is  subtle in the mornings, but during the day it gradually grows stronger.  After five days of this symptoms, Sofia comes to the hotel with a small bag and a determined look.

“I bought three test strips,” she said, handing me one. “Just to be sure.”

My hands trembles as I take it into the bathroom. The two minutes that follows feels like an eternity. When the result appears with two clear pink lines...my whole world tilt.

Pregnant.

I am carrying Ethan Sinclair’s child.

I sink onto the edge of the bathtub, staring at the test. Memories crashes over me. All these nights he had flooded me with his hot, thick cum ... deep inside my womb while he filthily praises me. The way he fucks me raw on the kitchen island, against the window, in the shower, on his desk. Load after load, day after day.

I should have know that it will come to this.

Sofia hugged me tightly when I showed her. “What do you want to do, Bella?”

I touched my still-flat stomach, a strange mix of fear and fierce protectiveness rising in me. “I’m keeping the baby. But I can’t stay here. Not while in this condition... he will sniff it out in the blink of the eye. He knew about Natalie and hid it from me. Our sex… it was just something we got used to. There was no promises of future. So I won’t raise this child in that kind of emptiness. Moreover he doesn't want a child from me...his past actions and words indicates that much...after the first night we slept together because he was drugged, he asked to go to a pharmacy for the aftercare pill. ”

Sofia nodded. “Then London it is. I’ll take you to the airport tomorrow. You’ll have to chance and time to build something amazing there ... for you and the baby.

The next morning, Sofia drivse me to the airport. We hug for a long time at departures.

“You’re going to be an incredible mother,” she whispers. “And an even better analyst and founder. Go build your empire.”

I boarded the plane with my hand resting protectively over my stomach. As the wheels lifted off, I watch the city disappear below and said a quiet goodbye to the man who had ruined me so beautifully ... body and heart.