All Chapters of Pregnant By The Billionaire: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Mira’s P.O.VMorning came like a balm to a wound that hadn’t stopped bleeding.The first thing I noticed was the warmth—the soft weight of the blanket draped over me, the steady heat of Luca’s arm curled around my waist, the faint glow of sunlight slipping past the curtains. For a moment, I lay still, eyes closed, listening. The storm outside had passed. No gunfire. No shouting. Only the chirp of birds in the gardens below and the distant murmur of waves brushing the cliffs.I let out a shaky breath, realizing how badly I needed this silence. It was fragile, almost unreal, like if I moved too quickly, it might shatter.Then I felt him stir beside me.Luca shifted, his chest rising against my back, his arm tightening slightly as though even in sleep, he was afraid I’d slip away. His breath fanned against the nape of my neck, warm and grounding. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself a small smile.I turned

Mira's P.O.VThe world looked different when you knew you were still alive.By the time we left the De Silva villa, the sky had turned a soft shade of silver. The morning mist rolled across the cliffs like breath, curling around the shattered vineyard and the broken gates that bore the memory of last night’s war. Every sound seemed sharper—the crunch of gravel beneath our boots, the echo of the wind against the stone walls, even the distant cry of a hawk circling high above.I kept glancing back at the house as we walked toward the waiting car. It felt strange to leave it behind—those halls had held our arguments, our secrets, our first fragile peace. But they had also witnessed too much blood.Luca noticed my hesitation. His hand found mine, warm and steady. “You don’t have to look back, Mira.”I swallowed hard, nodding. “I just… need to remember what we survived.”His thumb brushed the back of my hand, silent reassurance. “Then remember it as the day we didn’t lose everything.”The

Mira’s P.O.VThe morning sun spilled across the villa’s terrace like honey, catching on the waves below. The sea glimmered silver and blue, calm and endless — the kind of morning that pretended everything was fine.But I couldn’t pretend anymore.The letter sat folded inside my pocket, the edges already worn from how many times I had unfolded and read it again. The ink was starting to blur, my thumb rubbing over the same words until they felt etched into my skin.> Ask him about Cassandra’s ring.I didn’t even know what to do with that sentence anymore.It had followed me everywhere since I found it — while I washed dishes, while I walked along the cliffs, even while I lay awake beside Luca, pretending to sleep.This morning, though, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.Luca was on the terrace when I found him, shirt sleeves rolled up, fixing one of the wooden chairs that had broken during the last storm. His movements were quiet and patient, his brow furrowed in concentration. The smell

Mira's P.O.VThe rain had stopped by morning, leaving the world rinsed clean and quiet. Dew clung to the leaves outside, glimmering like scattered crystals under the soft sunlight. From the bedroom window, I could see the horizon stretched wide — calm, endless, golden at the edges where the sky met the sea.Luca was already up. I could hear faint clinking sounds coming from the kitchen — the steady rhythm of plates, the sizzle of something frying. For a few moments, I stayed in bed, my hand resting over my belly, feeling that soft, subtle flutter that had become more frequent lately.There was something grounding about mornings like this. The house smelled faintly of coffee and bread, the sea breeze drifting through the open window, bringing with it that salty, familiar scent that had started to feel like home.When I finally went downstairs, Luca turned at the sound of my footsteps. He was wearing a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair still damp from the shower. The sunlight coming

Mira's P.O.VThe morning sunlight filtered softly through the sheer curtains, painting gold on the marble floor. For the first time in a while, the house felt… quiet. No tension humming through the air. No harsh words or broken stares. Just peace — fragile, but real.I sat by the breakfast table, running my fingers over the rim of my cup as the scent of brewed coffee drifted through the air. The warmth from the cup bled into my palms, grounding me. Across the table, Luca was reading something on his tablet, his brow slightly furrowed, the corner of his lips twitching as if he was trying not to smile.It was strange — seeing him like that. Relaxed. Human.When he finally looked up, his eyes softened. “You’re up early,” he said, voice deep and a little rough from sleep.I smiled faintly. “Couldn’t really sleep in. The baby’s been kicking since dawn.” I touched my belly out of habit — it had become my small morning ritual, feeling the little movements beneath my hand. “Maybe she’s just i