บททั้งหมดของ The Vows We Fake : บทที่ 121 - บทที่ 130

The morning light slipped through the heavy curtains, brushing over the tangled sheets and the warmth of Zane’s arm draped across my waist. His body was pressed against mine, protective even in sleep. For a moment, I lay still, drinking in the soft rhythm of his breathing and the steady weight of his hand against my skin. Last night, we had torn each other apart and stitched ourselves back together in the same breath. It felt almost unreal, the way he had held me, whispered vows against my skin, promised me the world. For the first time in five years, I felt like we weren’t enemies, but two halves of something whole. I placed my hand gently over my belly. Our baby. A fragile, hidden secret, a flicker of hope. It was strange. The thought of protecting myself had once been my driving force, but now everything inside me screamed about protecting this little life. Revenge wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about giving my child a world without Catherine’s poison, without Sera’s claws,

The nausea came fast, violent, and unforgiving. One moment I was sitting across from Zane on the sofa, sipping water and pretending I wasn’t dizzy, the next I was sprinting to the bathroom, gripping the sink as my body heaved. My throat burned, my skin clammy. It was awful and humiliating. “Amara.” His voice was deep, urgent. Zane appeared behind me, one hand holding my hair, the other rubbing my back in slow circles. He didn’t flinch at the sound of me retching or the mess of it. He stayed, calm, steady, his presence overwhelming. When I finally lifted my head, my reflection startled me. Pale skin, bloodless lips, eyes hollow with exhaustion. My pride shriveled. “I’m fine,” I whispered, though the lie sounded thin. “You’re not fine.” His voice was sharp, commanding, the edge of fear disguised as anger. “I’ve been worse.” I tried to walk past him, but he blocked me with his arm, pinning me to the doorway. “You’re carrying my child,” he said in a low growl. “Don’t you dare minim

The city glowed beneath me like a restless heartbeat, lights blinking in the distance as if mocking the heaviness sitting in my chest. I stood by the wide windows of Zane’s penthouse, one palm pressed against the glass, the other curved instinctively over my belly. My stomach wasn’t showing yet, but somehow I couldn’t stop touching it. The vibration of my phone startled me. I snatched it from the counter, heart racing. Leah’s name lit up the screen. For a second, I hesitated. A strange nervousness always clung to me now whenever she called, as though Zane’s warning not to share too much lived in the air between us. Still, I answered. “Leah?” I whispered. Her voice was low, fragile. “Amara… I don’t even know if I should be telling you this, but I can’t keep it to myself. I was at Catherine’s today. I saw Sera.” My chest tightened. “Okay. What happened?” “She broke down,” Leah said, her tone almost trembling. “Completely broke down. She was sobbing, screaming, begging Catherine to

The television screen glowed faintly against the dimmed bedroom. I leaned back against the pillows, one hand absentmindedly stroking the curve of my stomach, the other tangled with Zane’s larger, firmer hand. The news anchor’s voice was calm, clinical, but the words cut through like a blade: "Sera Voss, fiancée of billionaire Zane Blackwood, was rushed to St. Augustine’s Hospital late last night following signs of preterm labor. Sources close to the family confirm she is currently under close monitoring…" “Oh my God…” I whispered. I swallowed, watching the ticker crawl across the bottom of the screen. My first instinct wasn’t pity. It wasn’t even concern. What I felt was a tangle of complicated emotions. Zane cursed under his breath, his jaw tightening as he wrapped an arm around me. “Don’t look at that, Amara.” “She’s… she’s pregnant, Zane. She’s in labor too early.” My voice shook. “She’s reaping what she’s sown,” he muttered, though his tone wasn’t as steady as usual. His arm

I stared at the screen, cold washing through me. My stomach knotted, the baby shifting restlessly beneath my palm as though sensing my distress. Zane appeared behind me, his shadow falling over my shoulder. He didn’t ask what it was. He didn’t need to. One glance at the photo, and his mouth twisted into something between fury and resignation. “You see?” His voice was low, dangerous. “This is exactly what I warned you about.” I swallowed hard, my throat burning. “She was trying to help…” “She was trying to be a hero.” He cut me off sharply, his eyes pinning me in place. “And now she’s exposed. Do you know what Wade could have done with this? Do you understand the risk you’ve just taken?” I clenched the phone tighter, fighting the rising tide of guilt. “She didn’t get caught with anything. There’s no proof. He only wanted to scare us.” “Scare us?” Zane’s laugh was sharp, humorless. “He has a photograph of your closest ally breaking into Catherine’s office. That’s not a scare tactic