Pregnant For My Ex-Fiancé’s Father のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

KAELON’S POVThe early morning sun streamed through the large windows of my bedroom, casting long, golden streaks across the floor. I adjusted the cuffs of my crisp, tailored shirt and straightened my tie, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. Today was not just another day. Today, I was setting things in motion.I turned toward the door, where one of the house servants stood patiently, waiting for my instructions."Take this to my car," I ordered, gesturing toward the small travel bag beside me. "Put it in the trunk."The servant nodded, picking up the bag swiftly before heading downstairs. I exhaled, rolling my shoulders back to relieve some of the tension building in my body.But there was one more thing I needed to do before I left.Aaron.As I walked down the hall, my footsteps were muffled by the thick, ornate carpet. The air felt heavy, charged with the kind of energy that only existed before a storm. I pushed open his bedroom door without knocking.Aaron was awake. The

VIV’S POV“What’s taking them so long to begin this godforsaken interrogation?” I murmured to myself.The detention room smelled like sterilized secrets and old betrayal. Cold, too. Clinical. The air-conditioning hummed with detached cruelty, as if reminding me this place had no warmth for me. I sat still, spine stiff, hands folded neatly in my lap, my wrists bare where a slim silver bracelet had once rested—confiscated the moment I walked in. Or rather, was brought in almost forcefully.Two agents sat across from me, not in suits, but in those awful business-casual shirts and slacks meant to appear unthreatening. They weren’t. One tapped a pen against a notepad like it was a metronome keeping time until I snapped. The other stared at me with the unwavering focus of someone trying to dissect me cell by cell.“Vivienne Prescott,” Pen-tapper began, “Can you explain how private visuals of President Kaelon Blackwood and your stepsister, Liv Bennet found its way online, originating fro

KAELON’S POVParis.It was almost midnight when I landed, but the city didn’t feel asleep. Lights blinked like stars in the wrong place, taxis honked like they were having arguments with the universe, and I... I was just a man racing against the fear of being too late.I dialed her number the second my feet hit the ground. It rang once, then went straight to voicemail. I redialed, again and again, hoping each time she’d pick up. She didn’t. Her silence echoed louder than the jet engines behind me.I didn’t wait. I rang my security team in Paris. I should have done that before I touched down."Find her," I barked into the phone to Elias, my head of security immediately he picked. "I want to know where she’s staying, what name she checked in with, if she changed her hair or her damn perfume. I don’t care what it takes. Just find Liv. Now!"No matter what happens, Liv can’t stay away from me. Won’t stay away from me. Thankfully, Evelyn had prepared everything. A black Range Rover waited

KAELON’S POVHer taste still lingered on my tongue from the first round, but it did nothing to dull the hunger in me. If anything, it fueled it.I watched her beneath me, her skin flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looked like a dream sprawled across the sheets, hair tousled, lips swollen, her legs parted slightly like she already knew I wasn't done.I lowered my mouth to her breast, taking her nipple into the heat of my mouth, flicking my tongue until she moaned softly. My hand played with the other, rolling it gently between my fingers, teasing her with just the pressure I knew she liked. Her breath caught when I pulled on it, just enough to make her arch beneath me.Liv let out a breathy laugh, her fingers sliding over my shoulders. She always smiled at me like she had a secret—one I’d never stop trying to uncover.We moved together like a rhythm we'd always known. My clothes came off piece by piece, discarded without care. Her body responded to every glance, every

Kaelon's POVThe antique clock on the wall ticked louder than usual, each second dragging its heels like it was in on some twisted joke. I sat behind my desk, elbows braced on the armrests of the leather chair, my fingers drumming a slow, erratic rhythm on the polished mahogany surface.She’d been up there too long.The room was quiet except for the occasional pop of the fire in the hearth and the whisper of the wind nudging the tall windows. My study—usually a place of control, of solitude—felt tight, suffocating. Like the walls had crept a few inches closer while I wasn’t looking.I clenched my jaw and stopped tapping for a beat. Then started again.What the hell could they still be talking about?My mind spun in restless circles. She said she needed to see Aaron alone. I agreed, albeit reluctantly. I trusted her—hell, I trusted her more than anyone at this point—but it didn’t mean the idea of her being alone in a room with him didn’t twist something uncomfortable in my chest.A