All Chapters of Pregnant and Divorced: My Ex Husband Wants Me Back : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

CARLOS’ POVI slam the door open so hard it ricochets off the wall, rattling the paintings in the hallway. My chest is heaving. My blood is boiling, and all I can think about is her. All I want to do is to confront her and demand an explanation. And then—there she is.Lina.She's standing in the living room with a wide, welcoming smile on her face like nothing in the world is wrong."Carlos!" she squeals, rushing toward me. Her arms wrap around my waist in a tight hug. The strong scent of her perfume is enough to choke me. I stand there for a heartbeat, stiff and unresponsive, before I push her away — hard.She stumbles back. Her mouth falls open in shock."Carlos?" she gasps, blinking at me like I’ve just slapped her. "What the hell is wrong with you?"My hands are shaking as I pull out my phone, shoving the screen in her face."Explain this, Lina." I raise my voice at her. The video plays. The sound fills the room — Lina’s voice is loud, sharp and practically dripping venom, tear

EMILY'S POV.Carlos stands in front of me. His blue eyes burn into mine. I look at him. His devastatingly handsome face makes it so hard to stay angry—hard, but not impossible. His chest rises and falls like he’s just run a marathon to get here, to me. The moment he asks the question, my heart feels like it slams against my ribcage."Are you pregnant?" His voice is low, rough, filled with something I can’t quite name. Hope? Fear?I blink at him, stunned. My hand tightens around the zipper of the suitcase I’ve been half-heartedly packing."I—I don’t know what you’re talking about," I stammer, praying he’ll believe the lie, the pathetic defense I throw up in pure panic.But Carlos just takes a step closer, shaking his head like he isn’t buying a word of it."Don’t give me that crap, Emily," he growls. "If Bridget was pregnant, she’d have announced it to the entire world by now. You think I don’t know her?"He moves even closer, forcing me to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. His scent w

EMILY'S POVI stand in the center of the empty boutique with my arms folded and my heart pounding—not with anxiety this time, but hope. Real hope. The kind that sits warm in your chest and whispers this could actually happen.The space is enormous—bare concrete floors, brick walls, and wide glass windows that let in the golden morning light.This is mine. All mine.After the whole disaster with Maison de Lune, after watching everything I’ve worked so hard for crumble thanks to Lina’s venomous touch, I think I’m done. But something inside me refuses to stay down. Maybe it’s the baby, maybe it’s me finally choosing myself, but I know—I have to try again. So, I decide to open my own boutique and start my own fashion line. All by myself.I step forward and close my eyes.In my mind, I see the runway. I see models gliding down in pieces I haven’t even fully designed yet. The flashes of cameras. The gasps from the front row. My name echoing off the walls.Emily.It gives me chills.The glas

CARLOS’ POVThe sirens keep on blaring. Red lights reflect across the pavement as the ambulance doors fling open. I’m already running. My lungs are burning and my chest is heaving harder than it ever has before.“Emily!” I choke out her name, over and over. My throat is raw from smoke and yelling. My legs burn as I chase after the paramedics pushing her through the automatic doors of the ER.She looks lifeless. Her face is pale. Her lips are slightly parted and her hair clings to her face in sweaty knots. I can’t even tell where she’s burned, or if she’s burned, because everything just looks wrong. Like the life has been sucked out of her body and she’s just barely holding on.My heart crashes against my ribs like it wants to break free.“Please—Emily, baby, stay with me,” I beg, my voice cracking. The paramedics say something into their radios. The doors fling open for them, but a nurse blocks me from going in.I barely notice Bridget until she grabs my arm. She’s crying. Her fingers

DANIEL'S POV The minutes tick by slowly I stand near the corkboard, looking at every photo of Lina that I've managed to get. I tap my fingers on the table nearby, waiting impatiently for Carlos to get here. Just when I'm about to call him to ask where he is, I hear the slam of a car door outside. That has to be him. Finally.Carlos walks in nearly an hour late, and the second I see him, my chest tightens. Not from anger. From worry. My little brother looks like hell. Dark circles bruise the skin under his eyes, there's something that looks like soot on his jacket, and his eyes are red—bloodshot from exhaustion, worry, or maybe crying. He looks stiff, like every muscle in his body has forgotten how to relax.He doesn’t say hello. Doesn’t ask what’s going on. His voice is low as he walks forward. "Talk.” he says. I nod once and step away from the corkboard. “I’ve been doing some research on Lina.”Carlos frowns, confused. “Why?”“Because,” I say, “you’re too naïve to see that Lina