Semua Bab Married To My Ex Husband's Billionaire Brother: Bab 181 - Bab 190

BerniceThe months following the showcase were a whirlwind of activity. My phone seemed to ring constantly with inquiries from boutiques, fashion magazines, and private clients. I had officially re-entered the world of high-end jewelry design, and it was both exhilarating and exhausting."Bernie, darling, you simply must come to this gala next week," Cathy's voice bubbled through my phone as I sketched a new design in my studio. "It's for the Children's Hospital, and all the A-listers will be there. It's the perfect place to network!"I chuckled, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder as I continued to work. "Cat, you know I'm not really one for big, fancy parties. Besides, I've got a deadline for this commission.""Oh, pish posh," Cathy dismissed. "This is important for your career! Plus, I need my best friend there to keep me from getting into too much trouble."I raised an eyebrow, even though she couldn't see me. "And where will your husband be during all this potential tro

BerniceThe shrill ring of my phone jolted me awake. I fumbled in the darkness, my hand finally closing around the vibrating device on my nightstand. The clock read 3:17 AM."Hello?" I mumbled, still half-asleep."Bernie! It's happening!" Cathy's voice, high-pitched with excitement and a hint of panic, came through the speaker.I sat up, suddenly wide awake. "The baby? Now? But you're not due for another two weeks!""Tell that to this little gymnast," Cathy groaned, and I could hear the pain in her voice. "My water broke about an hour ago, and the contractions are getting stronger. Taylor's freaking out. Can you meet us at the hospital?""Of course," I said, already swinging my legs out of bed. "We'll be there as soon as we can. Hang in there, Cat."I ended the call and turned to Christian, who was now awake and looking at me questioningly. "Cathy's in labor," I explained, rushing to pull on some clothes. "We need to go to the hospital."Christian was up in an instant, moving with the

BerniceThe morning dawned grey and overcast, fitting the somber mood that had settled over our household. Christian had been up most of the night, poring over documents and making phone calls. I'd tried to stay awake with him, offering support, but he'd gently insisted I get some rest."One of us needs to be functional tomorrow," he'd said with a wan smile, pressing a kiss to my forehead.Now, as I padded into the kitchen, I found him at the table, suit impeccable as always, but with dark circles under his eyes betraying his sleepless night. He looked up as I entered, attempting a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes."Morning, love," he said, his voice rough with fatigue.I moved to his side, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. "How are you holding up?"He leaned into my embrace, letting out a deep sigh. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. It's not every day you dismantle your family's legacy."I pulled back slightly, studying his face. The

BerniceThe shrill ring of the phone pierced the quiet of our bedroom, startling me awake. I fumbled for my cell on the nightstand, squinting at the bright screen. It was barely 3 AM."Hello?" I answered groggily, my voice thick with sleep."Bernice? It's Jean-Luc, Edward's assistant." The voice on the other end was tense, tinged with worry. "I'm sorry to call so late, but it's about Mr. Hamilton. He's been taken to the hospital. It's... it's not good."I sat up straight, suddenly wide awake. "What happened? Is he okay?"Jean-Luc's voice cracked slightly. "He collapsed during a dinner party. The doctors are saying it's a stroke. He's in a coma, Bernice. They're not sure if he'll wake up."My heart sank. "We'll be there as soon as we can," I said, already mentally planning our trip. "Which hospital is he in?"After getting the details from Jean-Luc, I turned to wake Christian, only to find him already sitting up, his face etched with concern."It's Grandfather, isn't it?" he asked, his

BerniceIt was a moment of pure magic, tinged with the bittersweet knowledge that it might be one of Edward's last.The night stretched on, marked by Edward's labored breathing and occasional coughs. His skin had taken on a grayish pallor, and his cheeks seemed more sunken than ever. Every so often, his eyes would flutter open, unfocused and glassy, before closing again.Dr. Fournier entered the room for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He checked Edward's vitals with practiced efficiency, his brow furrowing as he noted the dropping blood pressure and weakening pulse. "We've increased his morphine dosage," he murmured to Christian. "He shouldn't be in any pain now."Edward's fingers twitched sporadically against the bedsheet, and his breathing became more irregular - sometimes rapid and shallow, then pausing for long, terrifying moments before resuming. The oxygen mask fogged rhythmically with each exhale, a visual reminder of his continuing fight.As dawn approached, Edw