All Chapters of A Twist of Fate with the Callous Billionaire : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

—Sophia's POVThe bright morning light slipped through the curtains before I even opened my eyes.No, it wasn't harsh.It wasn't blinding.It was just soft, and gentle. That kind of quiet light that doesn't wake you with any urgency or emergency, but with warmth. That feeling of the world taking its time, the world wasn't rushing for once.I stayed still for a while. My cheek against Ethan's chest. His breath was slow and steady. That kind of calm I've yearned for years, The one Liam couldn't give me. One of his arms around me, the other tucked under his head. We were so tangled, in that quiet, half-asleep way where you don't know where one body ends and the other begins.I enjoyed the moment together.I wished we could stay like that forever. I didn't want to move.Not yet.His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear. Steadier than it had been in weeks.Or even maybe longer.And my Irene...I tilted my head a little, just enough to see the baby monitor beside the bed. The soft green

— Sophia's POVSometimes the silence says more than all the noise we've survived.But this morning? It said everything.I stood by the kitchen sink, one hand on a mug that had long gone cold. The house was still, save for the distant hum of Irene humming to himself in the other room. Ethan was in the backyard, barefoot in the grass, just... standing there. Not doing anything. He wasn't on the phone, he wasn't pacing. He was just existing.And for some reason, that made my chest ache.I watched him from the window. His back, the curve of his shoulders, the rise and fall of his breath. Like he was listening for something only he could hear.Yes, maybe he was.Maybe we both were.We'd been through so much. Not just the dramatic kind that breaks headlines. But the quiet kind. The bruises you don’t see. The nights that stretched too long. The mornings where everything felt just a little too heavy to lift.But this morning? It was different.I walked outside, the door creaking just slightl

— Sophia's POVThe day started soft.Not what I'd call quiet, not really. Irene was already up before the sun finished climbing the blinds, banging a wooden spoon on his cereal bowl like a little drummer in his own weird band. But still, there was a softness to the air. To the way Ethan handed me a mug before I asked. To the way he kissed the top of my head without saying anything.Sometimes I forget to breathe when it’s good.Is that weird? I don’t know. It’s like... I brace. For the crack. The fall. The thing I can’t see yet that might ruin it.Old instincts.Traumas from the past, probably.But he looked at me across the kitchen with sleep still in his eyes, and I remembered. Oh. This is real, yes this is ours.This is not a trick. This is not a setup.This is just our life now. And somehow, we made it here.---Ethan took Irene to the store around noon. Just for eggs. Maybe juice, or perhaps something small. He said they needed a “guys trip.”I let them go, I stayed back, and wa

—Sophia’s POVI came out of the bathroom to the smell of burnt toast.Not the type that sounded poetic, Not the metaphoric kind either. It was an actual, ruined, blackened toast in our kitchen. "Oh my goodness! No, no, no..." I rushed down to the kitchen, and I realized it was because Ethan forgot to check the damn timer.I walked in with my hair half wet, a towel still wrapped around me, and saw him waving a dish towel like he was fighting off a demon."You okay?"He looked over, sheepish. Embarrassed. A little sweaty."Breakfast was gonna be a surprise."I looked at the charred bread. The eggs half-done in the pan. Irene sitting on the floor with a spoon and a box of dry cereal, grinning like this was the best morning of his life."It still is yunno." I said cracking up, and gesturing my hands to the 'Breakfast surprise' Ethan pulled me close with one arm, my towel almost slipped off, but I caught it immediately. He kissed my cheek. He literally smelled like smoke and sleep."You

—Ethan’s POVThe bright yellow sun on the sunday morning made everything look like it was painted with yellow. It was not early. Not late either. One of those in-between hours when the house still feels like it's still half-asleep, and nobody’s asking anything of you yet.I was on the porch. My coffee mug in one hand, and my phone in the other. I was scrolling, but not reading, Not really. The way you do when you’re just trying to not feel too much all at once.The candle was still on the windowsill. The wax hardened. A little crooked. It felt like a gravestone. A small one.The Old Master has passed on. He was gone now, but at least we honored his request. Giving him Irene, a son, was all he ever wished for. Sophia hadn’t said much after the text. We just lit the candle, and she danced with me like we were spinning away from sadness.It worked. Kind of.But now?Now the grief was creeping back in. Very quiet. Like smoke under a door.I thought about calling someone. But I didn’t.