All Chapters of PREGNANT and REJECTED by the BILLIONAIRE : Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

POV: EmmaI stand outside the federal detention center, staring at the concrete walls. My hands are shaking, but not from fear. From anger. From five years of buried rage finally breaking free."You don't have to do this," Rhys says beside me. "Let the FBI handle him.""No." My voice is steady. "I need to face him. One last time.""Emma..""He doesn't own me anymore, Rhys." I turn to look at my brother. "His leverage is gone. His secrets are worthless. I need to see his face when he realizes he's lost."Rhys studies me for a long moment, then nods. "I'll be right here. The whole time."I walk through the security checkpoint, surrendering my phone and bag. Two federal agents escort me through sterile hallways to a small interrogation room. Through the one-way glass, I see him.Viktor sits at a metal table, handcuffed to a chain bolted to the floor. He looks smaller somehow. Less terrifying. Just a man in an orange jumpsuit."You sure about this?" Agent Morrison asks."Yes."He opens th

POV: MargaretI sit in the medical board hearing room, my hands folded in my lap. The panel of seven physicians and ethicists stares down at me from their elevated bench. Behind me, the gallery is packed with reporters, colleagues, and people whose lives I've touched, for better or worse. Dr. Harrison, the board chair, adjusts his glasses and looks at the thick file before him."Dr. Margaret Chen," he begins, his voice formal. "You stand accused of multiple violations of medical ethics. Conducting unauthorized clinical trials. Falsifying consent forms. Testing experimental treatments without proper approval. Endangering patient safety." He pauses. "These are among the most serious charges this board has ever considered."My throat is dry, but I keep my face neutral. I knew this day would come. I've been preparing for it since the press conference three weeks ago."How do you plead?" Dr. Harrison asks.I stand. "Guilty. To all charges."A murmur runs through the gallery. Several report

POV: Finn I sit in Dr. Reeves's office, staring at the abstract painting on the wall. Sometimes it looks like a butterfly. Sometimes it looks like a monster. I can't tell which is real. That's been my problem for three months now. "Finn," Dr. Reeves says gently. "Where did you go just now?" I blink, focusing on her. She's maybe fifty, with kind eyes and gray streaks in her dark hair. She specializes in trauma, specifically memory-related trauma. "I was... I don't know. I thought I was remembering something, but then I wasn't sure if it actually happened or if Viktor planted it." My hands clench in my lap. "I can't tell anymore. What's real. What's not." "Let's talk about one memory," she says. "Pick something recent. From the last week." "Okay." I think. "Yesterday, Emma and I went to the beach. We walked along the shore, and she told me about when she was little, before everything with Viktor. We collected shells." "How does that memory feel?" "Good. Warm. Real." I pause. "Bu

POV: DavidI wake up knowing something has changed. My chest feels heavy, like someone is pressing down on it with both hands. Each breath is work. The morning light filters through my bedroom curtains, and I think: this might be one of my last mornings. Dr. Patterson confirmed it yesterday. Weeks, maybe days. My heart is giving up. Too much stress. Too much strain. Too many years of building an empire on a foundation of guilt. I reach for my phone and call Rhys."Grandpa? It's six in the morning.""I know." My voice sounds weak, even to me. "Gather everyone. I need the family together. Today.""Are you..""Today, Rhys. Please."He hears something in my voice. "I'll have everyone there by noon."I hang up and look around my bedroom. This house, this estate, I built it all with blood money. But in these final days, it's become something else. A home. A place where my family heals. Maybe that's redemption. Not erasing the past, but transforming what it built.++++++++By noon, the estat

POV: LyraThe morning sun filtered through my apartment window, catching dust motes in its golden light. Six months. It felt like a lifetime and no time at all.I sat at my desk, laptop open to the news website I checked every morning out of habit. Our names were buried on page seven now—a brief mention that Viktor Kovalenko's trial was entering its fourth month. The prosecution was confident: life in prison, multiple counts, no possibility of parole. The front page had moved on. A political scandal in Washington. A tech merger in Silicon Valley. The world had forgotten us, and God, what a relief that was."Coffee's ready," Rhys called from the kitchen.I smiled. These small domestic moments still caught me off guard. Rhys making coffee in my apartment, our apartment now, technically, though we were moving next month to somewhere that felt like both of ours. A fresh start."Coming," I called back, saving my document.The file name stared at me: ‘When Family Secrets Destroy: A Story of