All Chapters of Impregnated By The Billionaire: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

“I didn’t do it,” Vincent said, glaring at the cuffs binding his wrists, a dark frown sitting on his handsome face.After getting him arrested, the cops shoved him into the police vehicle and drove him for interrogation. Vincent hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his meeting with Michael a few days back. There was no way he wasn’t behind this chaos.On one hand, where he had the nerve to offer a partnership in his so-called fucked-up business, on the other, he had thrown him into the pit of such a baseless accusation. He couldn’t help but wonder what that man was trying to do. He couldn’t help but dread finding something twisted by the end of this entire ordeal.“I know.” That’s all Gael could muster up in response while he sat next to him in the Police Ford, the scenery rushing by as they drove to the headquarters for further questioning. Every fibre in his body knew Vincent had no role to play in what happened with Linda, but his hands were tied and there was nothing he could d

Vincent heard the footsteps retreat.“Where’s Michael?” Vincent didn’t exhaust any second and asked, growing impatient by the minute after the stunt his damn father pulled.“Your father?” She tipped her head to the side, trailing a finger up and down her bare thigh. She wore a red dress that barely left anything to the imagination. Long loops dangling from her ears. “He’ll be here soon. Why don’t you take a seat?”“No thanks. I am good.” Vincent had no interest in dwelling anywhere near her or this godawful place. He looked away, frowning.The woman only shrugged and took a slow sip of the drink in her hand.A shred of relief tripped down his spine when Michael finally appeared through the curtained entrance to his right. However, the moment the older man was in sight, Vincent could not squash the anger and frustration charring him from the inside.“What the hell did you do?” His face had darkened with how enraged he was, indictment blazing through his dark brown eyes.Michael paused

“What am I doing here again?” Claire asked as she stared at the FBI agent in front of her.She knew who he was; she had seen him in the photographs Lucas showed her from his childhood a few months ago. Sure, a lot had changed, and he definitely wasn’t a thin boy with a weird haircut anymore, but it was him alright.Gael Marchant. The older brother of Linda.He wore a pair of dark grey dress pants and a white shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up to his elbows. There was a band-aid pasted on the right side of his forehead, and the bottom of his jaw had turned slightly blue.Ajax had filled her in on the attack on the police convoy a few hours ago. She knew the bruises on Gael’s face were evidence of a tough fight he put in to protect Vincent. But the bitter truth was no matter how hard the fight was, those people still won and there was no way to know how and where the younger Halest was.“You’re here, Ms Berkeley, because seconds before a bunch of mercenaries took your boyfriend,

Vincent wanted to get the hell out of this place—whatever this place was. Just didn’t know how. He couldn’t even tell what part of the city they brought him in. When those men drove him to this place, they had him blindfolded all the fucking time.And now, this room where they dumped him first and locked him inside had no windows that would open. They all were either nailed or sheathed with metal sheets. There was a bed with a pair of round cushions and a massive screen on the wall right across.For a second, he thought maybe there was someone on the other side, monitoring his every move. It made him a little conscious. But then he discarded the thought and decided to give not a single fuck. Compared to all the creepiest things Michael had done, this was literally nothing.The only exit was the door, which was locked. Not to forget the guards prowling outside, the shadows emerging from the small space between the floor and the door.Simply put forward—he was in hell.Hours passed, sim

[Fifteen Months Ago…]“You’re late!” Maxwell Berkeley yelled, trying to maintain a low voice, mindful of all the significant individuals mingling at the fundraiser dinner. “Again.”As her knuckles grew white from how tightly she had clamped her fingers, Claire grumbled into her chest and averted her gaze. Her father didn’t really care, though. The larger hand on the clock that indicated she was five minutes late was all he was concerned about.“Dad, something came up—” she tried, but he cut her off, not ready to hear anything now that his temper had flared.“Be quiet!” As he snarled. “There is only one thing I ask of you, and you can’t even take it seriously. Why the heck should I spend time with such a snot?”“I don’t know, dad.” Claire retorted, trying her hardest not to snap. “Maybe because I’m your daughter? Can’t go wrong with that, can you?”Maxwell shook his head, regretting every decision he made in his life, every decision that included Claire. “This is a mistake. I should ha