บททั้งหมดของ Against all odds : บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Elliott's POVI had just started to believe things were finally beginning to fall into place. Luca and I were good—really good. That morning, he made coffee while I watched him from the couch, marveling at the way sunlight danced through his hair, turning it into threads of gold. There had been laughter, an ease between us that hadn't existed in months. For the first time in what felt like forever, I believed we were okay. That we could really make it.Then Cecilia called.I almost didn't answer. I stared at the screen, her name lighting it up like a cruel joke. My stomach sank. I hadn't spoken to her in weeks, and there was no reason for her to call me—not unless something was wrong."Hello?" My voice was tight, uncertain."Elliott, we need to talk," she said, her voice clipped but trembling.The dread I'd been ignoring bloomed into something colder, heavier. I stood up and walked to the window, needing air. "Okay. About what?"There was a pause on her end. A long one."I'm pregnant.

Elliott’s POVThe weight of expectation pressed down on me as I sat alone in my apartment, the silence echoing louder than any conversation I'd had in weeks. The hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the wall clock, even the faint rush of traffic from the streets below—it all faded into a dull, oppressive hush. My father’s words from our last meeting reverberated in my mind like a curse, each syllable etched into my memory: “You have a duty to this family.” A duty. Not a choice. Not a request. A decree.He had it all planned out. Marry Cecilia. Take over the company. Raise the child together and repair the cracks in our pristine family image. It wasn’t about love or healing—it was about legacy. About ensuring the Brant name stayed polished and untarnished in the eyes of shareholders and high society. To him, Cecilia’s pregnancy was a blessing. A perfectly timed solution to the growing whispers about my life and my choices. But to me? It felt like a trap disguised as a gift. A gilded

Luca’s POVThe news came like a punch to the gut.I wasn’t watching TV by choice. The damn thing was just playing in the background at the café while I waited for my coffee. But as soon as I heard “Heir to the Knight Empire expecting first child” followed by a glammed-up photo of Cecilia smiling demurely beside Elliott, I froze. My breath hitched. I didn’t need to hear the rest.The screen flashed to an engagement ring, a press statement, the soft lighting of what must have been a private photo shoot. My hands trembled around the porcelain mug. I blinked, hoping I had imagined it. But there it was—Cecilia was pregnant, and they were getting married.I barely made it outside before the nausea hit.I leaned against a lamppost, eyes closed, trying to focus on my breathing. One inhale. One exhale. Repeat. My body didn’t want to cooperate. My chest felt tight, like a thousand invisible threads were pulling it in all directions. I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it coming. But knowing som

Luca’s POVI didn’t plan it. I didn’t rehearse the words in my head or think about how it would go. All I knew was that I couldn’t sit in silence any longer. I’d spent too many nights staring at my phone, waiting for a message that never came. Too many mornings trying to convince myself I didn’t care. But I did. I cared too much, and it was tearing me apart. So I walked. Fast. No destination, just a purpose. And before I could talk myself out of it, I was standing outside Elliott’s apartment building, fists clenched at my sides and heart pounding like a war drum.When he opened the door, his expression said it all—shock, guilt, maybe even relief. But I didn’t let him speak. I walked past him, into the space that used to feel like ours, and turned to face him with the kind of fury that only comes from heartbreak.“I need you to tell me the truth,” I said, voice steady even as everything inside me trembled. “No more games, no more silence. Are you really going to marry her?”He blinked,

Elliott’s POVI stared at the reflection in my bathroom mirror, barely recognizing the man looking back at me. Dark circles carved under my eyes, my jaw tight from days of clenching, my suit collar suffocating even before I buttoned it. Just days away from the wedding, and I felt like a man walking toward his own execution, wearing a tailored noose instead of a tie.Everyone thought I should be grateful. Successful. Lucky. I was marrying the “right” woman, taking my place in the family business, doing what was expected of me. And yet, all I felt was hollow. Like the pieces of my life had been rearranged into something unrecognizable, and I was supposed to smile and be proud of the mess.Cecilia had done everything right—she said the right things, wore the right expressions, played the perfect fiancée. But I knew the truth. Her smiles never quite reached her eyes anymore. Just like mine. We were both holding on for reasons neither of us wanted to admit out loud. She wanted security. I…