Semua Bab Pregnant By The Billionaire: Bab 81 - Bab 90

Mira’s P.O.VThe silence that followed Caroline’s departure wasn’t silence at all. It was heavier than her presence, filling the walls, pressing down on my chest, pulsing in the space between us. The storm outside battered the glass, but inside the study, the sound that consumed me was Luca’s ragged breathing.He stood near the door as though he’d been carved there, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were bloodless. He hadn’t moved since slamming it shut. He hadn’t looked at me. And that—God—that hurt worse than Caroline’s words.“Luca.” My voice cracked on his name. I waited for him to turn, to meet my eyes, to deny what she had thrown like daggers into the room. But he didn’t move.I took a step toward him, then another. My pulse was frantic, each beat screaming ask him. Yet when I opened my mouth, the question lodged in my throat like glass.“What did she mean?” I finally forced out. “What did she mean about Cassandra?”His shoulders stiffened. His jaw worked, tight and str

Mira's P.O.V The walls seemed to lean in on me, the storm pressing harder against the glass as if it wanted to rip the house apart from the outside. Every breath felt jagged, shallow, because all I could focus on was the cramp twisting low in my stomach, the way it stole the air from my chest and left me hollow. Luca’s arms were around me before I even realized I was falling. His voice—hoarse, frantic—kept saying my name, again and again like it was the only word left in the world. Mira. Mira. Mira. His grip was steady, but his body wasn’t—he was shaking. And then I remembered Elias was still here. Still standing. Watching. His presence was a shadow, cold and heavy, a different kind of storm crawling through the room. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him fully, not with this pain tearing through me, but I felt it—the weight of his gaze. Like he was waiting for me to break. “Call the doctor now!” Luca’s voice was raw, almost unrecognizable. He barked it toward the hall, and somew

Mira’s P.O.V. The hours after the chaos blurred into a fragile, restless silence. The clinic room was dim, the only light spilling from a lamp tucked in the corner, its glow soft against the sterile white walls. A monitor still pulsed quietly beside me, steady and unforgiving, reminding me with each beat how close I’d come to losing everything tonight. My body still ached, a soreness that ran deeper than flesh, as though the pain had carved something into my bones that no medicine could erase. But it was the silence that unsettled me most. Not silence, exactly. There were the faint footsteps of nurses padding through the hall. The occasional murmur of a doctor’s voice. The rain had slowed outside, dripping steadily against the windows. But compared to the storm that had roared through the De Silva mansion—the thunder, the shouting, the tension sharp enough to slice through skin—this quiet felt wrong. It wasn’t peace. It was something held too tightly, waiting to snap. And beside

Mira's P.O.VThe walls of the clinic felt narrower than they were. Maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was the way every sound—the shuffle of shoes, the low murmur of nurses—seemed to land heavy on my chest.I sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting over my stomach, still trying to catch my breath. The doctor’s words replayed in fragments, as if my mind only allowed them to sink in piece by piece: stable, but she needs rest, the stress could have triggered it.Stress. The word felt both simple and cruel. As if the weight of everything—my family, Luca’s past, Cassandra’s ghost, Caroline’s shadow—had been pressing down without me realizing how much it had stolen from me.“Water?” Luca’s voice came quietly, almost unsure. He stood by the small table, holding out a glass like he was afraid I might refuse him. His shirt was rumpled, sleeves pushed up, the first few buttons undone. He looked nothing like the composed man the world admired, and yet I’d

Mira’s P.O.VMorning came without rest.I must have drifted off sometime near dawn, but my body didn’t feel it. The weight in my chest hadn’t loosened, and the shadows under my eyes reminded me of everything I had carried through the night. When I sat up, Luca was no longer beside me—only the faint imprint of his body on the sheets, the air still holding his scent.The house felt too quiet. Not peaceful, not calm—just… watchful.I pushed myself upright, palm instinctively covering the gentle curve of my stomach. The baby was stirring faintly, as though reminding me I wasn’t alone, even in this silence.A knock sounded at the door. Firmer than Manang Silva’s, too clipped to be casual. I straightened.“Come in.”The door opened, and to my surprise, it wasn’t Manang or one of the maids. It was Luca’s head of security, Ramon. His broad frame filled the doorway, his eyes flicking across the room before settling on me.“Señorita Mira,” he said, his tone carefully measured, “your parents hav