Lahat ng Kabanata ng Pregnant By The Billionaire: Kabanata 161 - Kabanata 170

Mira's P.O.VThe rain began in the late afternoon—soft at first, like hesitant fingertips brushing against glass. Then slowly, steadily, it became a quiet downpour. The kind that made the whole world feel slower, softer. The sky outside the villa had turned a muted silver, and the sea below reflected it like liquid steel. I had always loved the rain, but today, it felt different. Heavier somehow. As if even the sky sensed that something was shifting in our lives again.I stood by the balcony, wrapped in one of Luca’s shirts. The air smelled of ocean and rain—clean, cold, and strangely grounding. One hand rested over my belly, feeling the familiar rhythm of Elena’s tiny movements. Every day she reminded me she was here, alive, growing, waiting to meet us.Behind me, I heard the soft creak of the bedroom door. Footsteps followed—unhurried, familiar. A moment later, warm arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me gently into a chest I could recognize even in the dark.“You’re standin

Mira’s P.O.V I didn’t sleep that night. Even with three layers of security inside the penthouse, I still felt watched—as if the walls remembered the message that had slipped under our door. I lay awake with one hand over my stomach, feeling for Elena’s movements just to remind myself that something good still existed in this world. Luca didn’t sleep either. He stayed beside me, awake in silence. He had that look again—the one he wore when something dangerous touched our lives. A stillness sharper than violence. A calm that wasn’t peace, but restraint. “You’re thinking too much,” I whispered. “I’m planning,” he replied quietly. “For what?” “For whoever decided to threaten what’s mine.” I turned my head to look at him. “They’re not after you. They’re after me.” “No,” he said. “They came for you to get to me. And that is the worst mistake they could have made.” There was no arguing with him when he was like this. His voice was made of steel. His resolve—unbreakable. But beneath

Mira's P.O.V I woke up before dawn, long before the sun even bothered to rise over Manila. The sky outside was still a deep shade of blue, caught between night and morning, but I couldn’t fall back asleep no matter how many times I closed my eyes. My thoughts were restless. Heavy. Unsettled. It had been three days since we returned to the city, and already Manila felt like a pressure wrapped around my lungs—tight, demanding, watchful. There was a time this place had been home. Now, it felt like a test. I turned on my side and watched Luca sleep. He rarely ever fell into deep sleep, but lately exhaustion had been pulling him under more than usual. Maybe Manila didn’t just haunt me. Maybe it unsettled him too. There were secrets here—his and mine—and even if he didn’t know I was still investigating Cassandra Navarro’s death, he could feel the weight of something shifting between us. He could sense when I was holding something back. He always did. He looked softer like this—quiet in

Mira's P.O.V The morning sunlight spilled into the living room of the penthouse, soft and golden, brushing over glass and marble. Manila looked deceptively calm from above—cars flowing in perfect patience along EDSA, buildings standing strong against the day. It was strange how peaceful everything appeared when you were high enough not to hear the noise. I sat at the dining table, stirring my tea even though it had already gone cold. My thoughts were louder than the quiet around me. My heart felt too full, too heavy—caught between everything I wanted to protect and everything I still feared losing. Luca entered the room quietly, almost carefully. He was wearing a black shirt, sleeves slightly rolled, his hair still damp from the shower. He looked calm, but I knew him well enough to recognize the storm behind his silence. He placed a folder on the table—no greeting, no small talk. Just silence and that file between us like a decision waiting to be made. “What is that?” I asked. H

Mira's P.O.VThe night didn’t end after those words.Luca didn’t rush me. He didn’t push, didn’t demand. He stayed close—but not too close—silent but warm, watching me with a patience I didn’t know he was capable of. Life had made him sharp, merciless, violent when necessary—but with me, he learned restraint. That was how I knew this was real. Whatever lived between us… it wasn’t infatuation. It wasn’t something temporary.It was a choice.I didn’t realize my hands were still trembling until he reached for them, his thumbs brushing gently over my skin. “Sit,” he said softly, guiding me to the velvet couch near the windows overlooking the city.I did. Not because he ordered me to—but because I wanted to follow where he led.The rain had started again outside, faint and steady, tapping against the glass like a distant heartbeat. Manila glowed beneath the night—chaotic and alive. Somewhere below that restless skyline was the world that had once broken me. Yet here, in this room… I wasn’t