บททั้งหมดของ Reclaiming His Runaway Baby Mama: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Adela leaned against the cool elevator wall, rolling her neck to ease the tension from a long day. The familiar ding signaled the elevator’s stop, and the doors opened to reveal a poised and elegant woman stepping inside.Adela instinctively moved to the side, creating space even though there was no need; they were the only two in the elevator. Something about the woman’s presence commanded respect. She exuded a quiet grace, her faint floral perfume adding to the aura of sophistication.As the elevator began its descent, the woman turned to Adela with a soft but clear voice. “Are you Adela?”Startled, Adela blinked. How does she know my name? she wondered, but she nodded out of politeness. “Yes, I am.”The woman smiled gently, her demeanor warm yet unreadable. “I thought so.”Before Adela could ask anything, the elevator arrived at the ground floor, and the doors slid open. Neither woman moved. The woman finally extended her hand, her smile deepening.“My name is Evelyn.”Adela hesita

When Liam Walton felt Layson Norman’s firm arm holding him back, he realized only then that his body had tensed, ready to dash after Adela without a second thought. Forced to stop, Liam turned and found himself face-to-face with Evelyn. He saw a new expression there—one he had never seen before. Evelyn, who had always been gentle, soft-spoken, and keenly aware of propriety, now stood before him, eyes rimmed red from tears she had tried to restrain, shoulders drawn tight with remorse.He himself was unsettled by the note of anger and doubt he had heard from her earlier. It was the first time Evelyn had spoken to him that way, her voice laced with bitterness and jealousy. She was usually so understanding, gracefully fitting into the Walton family’s expectations, never raising her voice, never challenging Liam’s decisions. Now, she looked lost and guilt-ridden, as if only now comprehending the consequences of her impulsive confrontation.“I’m sorry,” Evelyn managed, her voice barely abov

Adela bolted awake, fingers clenched so tightly around the bedsheets that the IV line in her hand pulled painfully against her skin. A small smear of red began to seep beneath the clear bandage, the sting jolting her out of the lingering remnants of her unsettling dream. Her forehead was damp with cold sweat, and her breath came in ragged bursts as she tried to reorient herself.As her vision cleared, she noticed the dim light of the hospital room and heard the hum of the air-conditioning. Only then did she become aware that someone was there with her. Turning her head, she saw Layson Norman, eyes shut, leaning back on the small couch tucked against the wall. But the moment she stirred, he immediately opened his eyes, as though he had not really been sleeping at all.Without a word, Layson rose from the couch and approached her bedside. His eyes flicked to her sweat-drenched hair, then to the IV in her hand, where fresh blood had begun to seep. A slight crease formed between his brows

Liam Walton paused on the other end of the line, his brow furrowed in concern. So much had spiraled out of control that he barely knew where to begin. “I haven’t told the old man yet,” he said at last, voice heavy. “But trust me, he’s going to hear about it soon enough. Once the Walton family’s patriarch finds out the truth about Adela, there’s no way to keep it quiet.”From the speaker phone, Layson Norman let out a slow exhale. He was in his private office, having just pushed the door open and stepped in with a deep scowl on his face. “And once the Norman family’s patriarch catches wind that Adela is pregnant, it won’t be pretty for you,” Liam added, thinking ahead to the potential clash between the two powerful families.Layson set a stack of files on his mahogany desk. The office was spacious, outfitted with modern furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows offering a sweeping view of downtown New York. “I know,” he said quietly, yet resolutely. “That’s why I’m going to propose to her

Dexter Norman ended up living in a tiny, run-down neighborhood on the outskirts of New York. He managed to find a small, relatively clean single-room home—a shabby place that barely offered basic shelter, but at least it was all his own. He spent days, then weeks, waiting for someone from the Norman family to come looking for him, but no one ever showed up. The absence of any search party confirmed what Dexter had always suspected: he wasn’t truly wanted back home.The impoverished neighborhood he lived in was tight-knit and wary of outsiders. Before long, rumors started swirling about the mysterious newcomer. Some speculated that he was a runaway from a wealthy family; others insisted he was just an aimless street kid. Dexter tried to ignore the whispers, but being only a child, it wasn’t always easy to brush off the stares and gossip. He often found himself stewing in frustration—he felt he didn’t belong in the Norman mansion, and he certainly didn’t belong here. Was there no place