บททั้งหมดของ Ties of a Contract: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

SophiaThe sound of dishes clattering echoes through the small café kitchen. Steam rises from the pans, and the heavy aroma of grease mingles with the sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee. My white T-shirt, already tight due to my growing belly, is smeared with tomato sauce, but I barely notice. My fingers tremble as I try to balance two cups of coffee and a tray of pie slices."Sophia! Table three has been waiting for five minutes!" shouts my boss, Mr. Garret, a man in his fifties with a thick mustache and a stern look."I'm coming!" I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.Sweat drips down the back of my neck as I weave between the cramped tables, a practiced smile plastered on my face. With every step, I feel the tension in my belly beneath the apron. I'm only a few weeks along, but it already feels like I'm carrying a heavy weight. Maybe it’s the worry. Maybe it’s the fear.Earlier today, before my shift started, I went to the doctor for a routine ultrasound. The doctor's words st

SophiaThe silence in the penthouse is almost comforting. For the first time in weeks, I feel like I can breathe without the weight of the world crushing my chest. I’m sitting on the couch, holding a cup of hot tea in my hands, while Alexander works in the next room. He insists that I rest, but my mind won’t stop. I’m still getting used to being back here, to the familiar smell of this place, to the memories it holds. I place one hand on my belly and close my eyes. There are two of them. Two little hearts beating inside me. The responsibility scares me, but it also gives me the strength to keep going.The sound of the doorbell echoes through the living room, and my tranquility vanishes like smoke. “I’ll get it!” I call out, before one of the security guards can interfere.I walk over to the door and open it, but I regret it the instant I do. Leo. He’s there, his face flushed, his eyes red with anger and perhaps something else. Alcohol? He looks different, more worn out, but the exp

AlexanderThe hospital’s white, sterile hallway seems to stretch on for miles. I’m seated on one of the uncomfortable chairs, elbows resting on my knees, fingers interlaced, squeezing so hard my knuckles are white. The harsh overhead light is giving me a headache, but nothing compares to the tightness in my chest. Sophia is in there, and I can’t do a thing about it. Nothing but wait.Each second feels like an eternity. Every time a nurse walks past, my heart leaps, hoping—or fearing—she’s coming to give me news.My thoughts won’t stop. I can’t get the images out of my head: Sophia on the floor of our penthouse, her hands clutching her belly, her face contorted in pain. Olivia, with that look of insane hatred, shouting threats.Why did she open the door for Olivia? Why didn’t she turn her away? “Damn the moment I left. Damn it…” I mutter to myself, running my hands through my hair. This shouldn’t have happened. I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected Sophia, protected our babie

AlexanderThe cold hospital lights flicker above my head as I walk down the narrow hallway leading to Sophia’s room. My heart feels heavy in my chest, an anchor of guilt and fear preventing me from breathing properly. The doctor’s words still echo in my mind: “If her blood pressure rises again, we might not be able to save all three of them.”I wasn’t there when she needed me most. Olivia got into that apartment—our home—and turned everything into a nightmare scene. And while Sophia struggled to breathe, to protect our children, I was busy fighting against a woman who should never have had any power over us.I stop in front of the room’s door. I close my eyes for a second, take a deep breath, and turn the doorknob.Sophia is awake, partially sitting up in bed, propped on white pillows that look huge around her. The monitor beside her emits soft beeps, and the sound of our babies’ heartbeats echoes in the room, rhythmic, like a fragile and precious melody.She slowly turns her head to

AlexanderWhile Sophia rests in the bedroom, I dedicate my time to creating a perfect space for our babies. I hire a team of decorators, and together we transform one of the rooms in the penthouse: I choose soft shades of beige and aqua because we still don’t know the babies’ genders, although Sophia says she feels they will be two boys. The colors spread across the walls, lending a cozy, light atmosphere. Two identical white cribs stand side by side, while a comfortable armchair awaits moments of affection—whether for rocking them or simply gazing out at the city through the window.“It turned out so cozy,” murmurs one of the decorators, delicately adjusting a mobile of small golden stars.I hang pictures with inspiring phrases and select plush rabbits and bears for the shelves. When everyone leaves, I remain there in silence, in the middle of the room, taking in every detail. It’s impossible not to imagine what it will be like to hear the babies’ gentle cries, their laughter, their