บททั้งหมดของ The reluctant vow: บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

The Kareem mansion’s dining room shimmered with polished elegance. Crystal chandeliers cast soft golden light over the long obsidian table, each flicker reflecting off delicate wine glasses and silver cutlery perfectly aligned on fine bone china. But beneath the pristine luxury, the air was thick — heavy with silence, tension, and things unsaid.Imani sat at the far end of the table, her spine straight, posture impeccable. Her tailored emerald-green dress hugged her subtly rounded belly, though it was still concealed well enough to remain unnoticed. She sliced her grilled salmon methodically, but the food on her plate barely shifted. Her fork clinked quietly against the plate — a repetitive sound, delicate but unnerving in the otherwise quiet room.Chief Kareem sat at the head of the table, glancing from her to his son with an air of controlled concern. The patriarch’s fingers drummed lightly against the mahogany, his face unreadable but his eyes calculating, as if waiting for someone

The hospital room was dimly lit, with only a narrow beam of sunrise slicing through the closed blinds. Machines beeped softly in the background, the sterile scent of antiseptic still clinging to the air. Imani lay pale against a stack of pillows, her hair damp and clinging to her forehead, her face flushed from exhaustion and pain.Regan stood by the window, arms crossed tightly, staring out at the waking city. He hadn’t slept. His jaw was clenched, his thoughts a whirlpool he couldn’t escape from.“Regan…” Imani’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.He turned, his face impassive. “Yeah?”Her eyes were heavy-lidded but sharp. “You’re just going to stand over there like I’m not carrying your child?”Regan exhaled and crossed the room slowly, his footsteps almost reluctant. He took a seat beside the bed, folding his hands together. “I’m here, aren’t I?”Imani smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That’s not the same as being here. There’s a difference, and you know it.”H

The hospital lobby buzzed with quiet activity. Nurses hurried past, the scent of antiseptic thick in the air. Nathan stood near the reception counter, visibly agitated, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his faded jeans. His eyes darted toward the hallway that led to the maternity ward.“I need to see her,” he repeated for the third time, this time more firmly. “She called me—last night. I need to know if she’s okay.”The receptionist offered a patient but curt smile. “Sir, we’ve explained—visitors are not allowed into the maternity ward unless authorized by immediate family. Please wait.”Nathan gritted his teeth, pacing a few steps to the side, tapping his foot.Just then, Regan entered the hospital in a tailored navy suit, a file tucked under his arm. He was on his way to the office but had stopped to check in on Imani. He barely glanced around—until he caught a glimpse of Nathan’s face.Familiar.Too familiar.He paused.Regan’s brows furrowed. He tilted his head slightly,

The hallway was dimly lit, shadows pooling in corners as the hospital settled into its late-hour rhythm. The soft beeping of monitors and murmured voices carried faintly through the corridor. Nathan stood near the nurses’ station, half-shadowed by a column, his baseball cap pulled low.A nurse, mid-shift and alert, glanced up from her charting. Her eyes flicked to him and lingered.NURSE(casual, curious)You’re still here?Nathan didn’t answer immediately. His jaw was tight, gaze fixed toward the direction of Imani’s private room, far down the corridor.NATHANJust wanted to make sure… she’s okay.NURSE(with a knowing tone)You’re not listed on her emergency contact. Not family either. And yet… you’ve been here longer than some husbands.Her words were light, but the edge wasn’t missed. Nathan glanced at her sharply, then looked away.NATHANShe… just doesn’t have many people. That’s all.Before the nurse could respond, a door opened nearby. Dr. Hakeem stepped out from the staff lou

The hallway outside the operating theater was cold—not just in temperature, but in feeling.The kind of cold that settled under your skin and whispered things you didn’t want to hear. The kind of cold that made time feel like it was stretching out endlessly, minute after dragging minute.Regan stood near the double doors, rigid and silent. His tall frame cast a long shadow against the beige walls under the flickering fluorescent light. Every now and then, he shifted slightly, as if to stretch a tight muscle or release the pressure building in his chest—but he always ended up back in the same place, frozen by a kind of quiet dread.Zara leaned against the opposite wall, arms folded protectively over her belly. Her hair, loosely tucked into a messy bun, had strands falling around her face. She didn’t bother tucking them back. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, but she wasn’t really seeing it.The sterile silence between them grew heavier with each second.Every now and then, a nurse wou