Pregnant By The Billionaire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 131 - チャプター 140

Mira’s P.O.V The morning crept in like a secret no one wanted to tell. Pale sunlight slid through the curtains, faint and cautious, like it feared disturbing what had unfolded in the night. Luca hadn’t left my side. He was still sitting upright against the headboard, his arm around me, his eyes open and fixed on the window. He looked like a man carved from vigilance. I stirred slightly and felt the weight of his arm tighten. “You didn’t sleep,” I murmured. “I couldn’t,” he replied softly, his voice roughened by the hours. “Not with you here. Not with them still out there.” I sat up a little, my palm brushing his shoulder. “You say them like you know exactly who it is.” His jaw shifted, but his eyes didn’t leave the window. “I have a guess. But guesses can get people killed if you’re wrong.” The words settled like a stone between us. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders. My stomach felt heavier this morning, the baby pressing

Luca’s P.O.V The night settled over the villa like a blade pressed to the throat—sharp, unyielding, waiting to cut. I stood by the window of my office, staring at the reflection of my own face in the glass, the storm of the past hours etched into the lines around my eyes. My men were already in motion outside: engines humming, radios buzzing, weapons checked. But inside, the silence was deafening. I wasn’t afraid of what was coming. Not the threats. Not the blood. What unsettled me was her—Mira. The way she looked at me earlier, with questions in her eyes I hadn’t been brave enough to answer. She deserved the truth. God knows she did. But the truth was the very thing that could break us apart. And Caroline… she knew that. A knock pulled me back. Marco stepped in, his face grim, his earpiece still crackling faintly. “The car is ready, boss. We’ve secured the route to the winery. No unusual movement spotted yet.” I nodded once. “Good. Double-check the perimeter once we’re there. I

Mira’s P.O.V The wind whipped against my cheeks, carrying the scent of wet earth, crushed leaves, and a faint tang of gunmetal that made my stomach tighten. I clutched the edges of my coat, feeling the shiver crawl down my spine, and forced myself to stay hidden behind the tall hedges that lined the driveway. Every instinct screamed to run, to hide, to disappear into the night—but my legs refused to obey. My eyes were glued to the winery, to the silhouette of Luca standing rigid against Caroline’s slow, deliberate steps. I could hear the faint echo of their voices, the low growl of his words and the honeyed venom of hers, but each syllable was heavy, impossible to process fully. My hands tightened around the railing I leaned on, my nails biting into the fabric of my coat. My heart hammered so loud I was certain they could hear it from inside the building. The rain had stopped, leaving the air thick with mist that curled around the edges of the gravel and lantern light. The light ma

Mira’s P.O.VThe first gunshot split the night like a crack of thunder.I froze. The sound was so sharp, so violent, it felt as if the air had been torn apart. A second shot followed, then another, until the quiet vineyard was swallowed by chaos. Bullets whizzed through the mist, snapping past the hedges where I was hiding. My body reacted before my mind did—I dropped low, clutching my stomach with both hands as my knees hit the damp earth.The smell of gunpowder rolled in quickly, acrid and biting, mixing with the dampness of rain-soaked soil and crushed leaves beneath me. My throat burned from it. I pressed my sleeve against my mouth, trying to steady my breathing, but it was useless—every inhale came ragged, fast, terrified.“Move! Get her out!” a voice barked—Luca’s voice.My chest tightened at the sound. Even in the chaos, even with bullets raining down, his instinct was to protect me.Two of his men broke through the hedge,

Mira’s P.O.VThe world was fire, smoke, and broken prayers.Gunfire still cracked through the vineyard, though less frequent now, like the tail end of a thunderstorm that refused to die out. My lungs burned as I dragged in ragged breaths, the acrid taste of gunpowder clinging to the back of my throat. Every inch of me shook, my palms raw from clawing through mud, my dress torn and heavy with rain and blood that wasn’t even mine.I could barely hear over the ringing in my ears, but one voice cut through everything.“Mira!”Luca’s voice. Fierce. Wild. Terrified.Through the shifting haze, I saw him break through the line of his men, his dark coat whipping around him, his gun raised like an extension of his body. His strides were unrelenting, purposeful—like nothing in the world could keep him from reaching me.Tears stung my eyes, blurring his face, but my chest eased at the sight of him. My Luca. The man who never wavered