Semua Bab Pregnant By The Billionaire: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Mira’s P.O.V The mansion was quiet that night, too quiet for my restless thoughts. Even the soft rustle of the curtains against the open window felt loud, brushing through the silence like whispers I couldn’t understand. I sat at the edge of the bed, my hands absently tracing the curve of my swollen belly. Seven months. The weight of my child was a constant reminder that every step I took now was no longer just for me. I wasn’t only Mira Alvarez anymore. I was someone’s mother. And because of that, I couldn’t afford reckless choices. But the problem was, my heart didn’t listen to reason. Luca’s presence still lingered everywhere...in the faint scent of his cologne on the sheets, in the quiet shadows of the room, in the echo of his voice telling me things I wanted so badly to believe. “Trust me, Mira.” Those words haunted me. Because trust wasn’t something you could demand. It was something you earned. And Luca… he kept burying pieces of his past as if the truth itself would destro

Mira’s P.O.V The silence in the bedroom was heavy. Not the comfortable kind we had sometimes shared, when words weren’t needed and presence alone was enough. No, this silence had edges...sharp, unyielding. I sat at the edge of the bed, my hands resting on the curve of my belly, almost seven months now. The weight of the child inside me was a reminder of how far things had gone, how deeply intertwined my life had become with Luca’s. But right now, instead of feeling secure, I felt suffocated. Luca stood near the balcony doors, his back turned to me. His posture was rigid, shoulders squared, as if he was holding himself together by sheer will. The faint glow of the city lights outside cut around him, shadowing his face. He had been like this for days...distant, withdrawn, his words clipped and his touch hesitant. It tore at me more than I wanted to admit. “You haven’t said a word since dinner,” I finally murmured, my voice low, tired. His head tilted slightly, but he didn’t turn.

Mira’s P.O.V The silence inside the De Silva mansion had started to feel different. For weeks, I had grown used to it...how the long hallways swallowed footsteps, how the tall windows stretched shadows across the marble floors, how the nights echoed with nothing but the wind outside. But now… it no longer felt like silence. It felt like something hiding, breathing just behind the walls. I noticed it first in the smallest details. The books in Luca’s study were rearranged...not the way his perfectionist hands would place them, aligned edge to edge, but slightly off, as if someone else had touched them. A drawer in my vanity that I was sure I had locked the night before sat cracked open the following morning. Even the fresh flowers Manang Silva always placed by the window had begun to wilt faster than usual, replaced too often, as if time itself inside these walls was rushing. “Maybe it’s just me,” I whispered to myself while brushing my hair in the mirror. But even my own reflectio

Mira’s P.O.V The silence after the storm was deafening. For hours, it felt as though the walls of the De Silva estate carried the echo of raised voices, slammed doors, and truths that had been dragged, kicking and screaming, into the open. My body was exhausted, yet my mind refused to rest. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Luca’s face...his jaw clenched in anger, his eyes burning with a mix of fury and desperation, the way his hand had trembled when he finally admitted that some pieces of Cassandra’s death had always haunted him. But the confrontation with Caroline had left more than just words hanging in the air. It left fractures...splintering cracks in everything I thought I understood about Luca, about myself, about the fragile sanctuary we had tried to build together. I was curled up on the edge of the bed, hugging my knees to my chest. The moonlight slanted through the tall windows, painting my skin silver, as though mocking me with its calmness while my heart twisted wit

Mira’s P.O.V The silence in the De Silva mansion had changed. Before, it was heavy and suffocating, filled with secrets that pressed against my ribs. Now it was sharper, more watchful, as though every hallway, every polished surface, every flickering candle was an accomplice to Caroline Navarro’s games. Her presence was everywhere, though she hardly needed to speak. A smile here, a whisper there, a lingering look that felt like a blade grazing the skin...she was slowly wrapping threads of manipulation around the people inside these walls. And I could feel those threads tightening around me most of all. But Luca… Luca was different. He was sharper than ever, his gaze constantly flicking toward me like he feared I’d disappear at any moment. But that sharpness came with distance too. He was pulling away without realizing it...his frustration, his anger, his desperation to protect me blending together into a wall I could hardly see over. And that wall was exactly what Caroline wante