All Chapters of Pregnant For My Ex-Fiancé’s Father : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

LIV’S POVInside the Blackwood MansionThe warm air inside Kaelon’s mansion wrapped around me like a protective shield. He hadn’t even taken a full step into the living room before I realized how quiet it was. His shoe thudded against the marble floors, echoing into the silence. It felt unreal. All of this. Him. Me. Us.“Put me down,” I said softly, my breath catching in my throat as I caught a glimpse of the dark couch across the room. “Before Aaron walks in and sees you carrying me like this.”Kaelon chuckled, his hold around me never faltering until he gently lowered me to my feet. “Aaron isn’t home,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering against my cheek. “He left… and Martha followed.”I raised my brows slightly, my voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t… send them away just to bring me here, did you?”“No,” he answered honestly, tucking both hands into his pockets and leaning closer to me. “But if I’d known bringing you here meant peace, I wo

KAELON'S POV I sat at the edge of the bed, the soft glow of the moonlight filtering in through the large windows of the mansion. Liv was curled up beside me, sound asleep, her breath steady and rhythmic. The warmth of her body beside mine made the moment feel oddly peaceful.I glanced at her, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She looked so peaceful in her sleep. My heart softened at the sight. She was so beautiful, and I could not imagine that Aaron even thought of cheating on her on the eve of their wedding night.I sighed softly and stood up from the bed. I needed to change, to put my thoughts in order before I could finally sleep. As much as I wanted to lie down beside her, rest, and forget about everything, I knew I couldn’t. There were things to take care of.The soft carpet beneath my feet felt plush as I walked toward the wardrobe. I stripped off my clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. I opened the closet doors, taking out a fresh shirt and comfortable pan

AARON’S POVFuck! I paced.Back and forth, barefoot against the cold marble tiles of my penthouse living room. The city lights flickered far below, uncaring, as if my life hadn’t just collapsed in front of the whole damn nation. The air was thick with tension, stale with regret, and somewhere in the background, the silent TV still replayed Kaelon’s public declaration to Liv. I had muted it earlier, but the images were enough. His eyes, that voice. Confession. Love.He had won. And I was left with the taste of ashes in my mouth.The door creaked open. My mother stumbled in.Her heels clicked messily against the floor, her perfume arriving before she did. Expensive. French. She clutched her purse loosely, her lipstick slightly smudged, her eyes dazed and watery. She had been drinking."Mother! Where the hell have you been?" I asked, voice already hoarse from shouting into silence all night.She closed the door behind her, sighing. "Aaron, sweetheart... not now. I just got back.""Answ

KAELON'S POV I had not rested after leaving Viv in Evelyn’s care. The sky outside was already painted in soft, silvery blues, hinting at the fast-approaching dawn when I arrived at the mansion. My eyes burned from the lack of sleep, but I didn’t care. Instead of heading straight to bed, I opted for a hot shower. I let the water cascade over my skin, washing away the tension that had embedded itself into my shoulders. After drying off, I dressed in one of my charcoal suits and rolled up the sleeves slightly. Something about the morning air called for simplicity. No tie, just an open collar and the intention to impress no one but her. Liv. I walked into the kitchen, and for once, didn’t summon any of the staff. They deserved their rest. I wanted this moment to be mine. I made her breakfast, scrambled eggs with caramelized onions, crispy turkey bacon, pancakes, and a fruit parfait I layered with a clumsy but determined hand. The smell filled the kitchen, coffee an

AARON'S POV Fuck! I didn’t expect to see her standing there. The soft creak of the wooden floor under my shoes had echoed across the silent room, and there was my mother, Martha Rhys. Still as a statue, her perfectly manicured fingers brushed gently against the corner of the picture frame sitting on my nightstand. It was the one photo I hadn’t managed to take down. Liv and I, smiling, happy, locked in a moment that now felt like a goddamn lie. “What are you doing in my room?” I asked, my voice dry and brittle like I’d been chewing on sand. She turned slowly, guilt sitting heavily in her eyes. It wasn’t the look of a mother who stumbled into her son’s space by mistake. No. She had come here with purpose. And I wasn’t in the mood. “Aaron,” she said softly, folding her arms. “I came to apologize.” I scoffed, stepping further in and tossing my keys onto the dresser. “Apologize? For what? The years of silence? For showing up at my door only when it’s convenient for you