Mr. President Has A Baby Bump のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 171 - チャプター 180

~~Alex~~ Getting home, I went straight to Jay’s room. The quiet hum of the machines was the only thing that kept me sane these days, their beeping like a heartbeat that refused to stop. James was there, leaning against the wall, a tired but satisfied smile on his face. “Good news,” he said the moment he saw me. “There’s a huge possibility Jay will wake up in the next seven days. The other doctor says his brain activity is stabilizing. Oh~~~ and Lena, on the other hand, might wake up as early as tomorrow.” For a moment, I froze. My lungs refused to work. Then it hit me all at once…. relief so heavy I nearly stumbled. “Finally…” I exhaled shakily. “God, finally.” James clapped me on the shoulder and murmured something about grabbing coffee before heading out. I didn’t even hear him leave. My eyes were fixed on Jay’s sleeping face, soft and peaceful, like he was just waiting for me to tell him it was safe to come home. But it wasn’t safe. Not yet. Because when I’d been at the Hale

Third person POV The underground room inhaled and exhaled cold; every breath the two of them took turned into pale ghosts that hung in the air for a second before they dissolved. Steel walls closed in on three sides, the fourth a heavy door with a small barred slot that hummed with the building’s pulse. A single bulb swung from the ceiling, throwing light that sliced across Elijah’s face in slow, geometric cuts bright, then shadow, then bright again like a metronome designed to unmake him. Alex stood rigid in front of him, the black shirt he’d left Jay’s bedside in clinging to him as if to memory. He had the stillness of someone who had practiced being a statue; terror was more useful when it had a flawless face. Mercy, where it existed at all inside him, had been smothered under too many betrayals. Elijah was strapped to a steel chair, cords biting into wrists and ankles, spine forced straight as if to stay honest. His head lolled forward and then snapped back with the bulb’s swa

~~Dahlia~~It had been four days since I’d practically moved into Lena’s ward in my crazy brother’s house…. Four long, endless days of stale hospital air and the steady hum of machines that mocked me with their consistency. Every beep felt like it was marking time I couldn’t get back. Every whisper from the nurses outside the door reminded me that she still wasn’t awake.I don’t even know what came over me that made me come here to her…. I just couldn’t imagine her leaving I guess.James had said she’d open her eyes today. But then again, he’d said the same thing two days ago, standing at the foot of her bed with that rehearsed doctor’s optimism that didn’t fool me anymore. I wanted to believe him, but faith had a cruel way of fading when the person you love refused to come back.And love… God, that word. How could I fall in love with a woman?She basically my first love… the first human I feel genuine love for and not the kind I feel for my ego.I dragged the chair closer to the bed

~~Lena~~Before I could even ask where Jay was, the door swung open, and in walked my mother my dearest mother, as dramatic and polished as always, but this time, she looked nothing like the woman I remembered. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen with tears, and for a second, I wondered if I was hallucinating. Because my mother didn’t cry. Not even at funerals. And the worst was that… she looked like she cared, like she gives a fuck. Does her amazing husband know she’s here like this…?She stopped a few feet from the bed, one trembling hand pressed to her lips, staring at me like she was afraid I’d vanish if she blinked too hard. Then, as if some invisible thread snapped inside her, she rushed forward and cupped my face, tears spilling freely down her cheeks.“Lena… sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice raw. “Oh, my baby.”The shock of seeing her like that almost made me laugh. My mother—“ the woman who once scolded me for crying during a breakup was now sobbing like she’d just seen a

~~Alex~~I’d spent the past twelve hours inside the Saito clan’s firewall or what passed for one. For an organization that prided itself on secrecy, their network was an absolute joke. Layers of old encryption, lazy firewalls, and recycled codes from the early 2000s. If these people ruled the underground, it was only because no one had bothered to challenge them with real tech.My fingers flew across the keyboard, the blue light of the monitors painting my face in cold shadows. Lines of code scrolled endlessly digital veins pulsing with secrets that were never meant to see daylight. Every click felt like peeling another layer of skin off a monster that had hidden too long behind money and fear.And God, did they have layers.Financial laundering through shell charities. Child trafficking routes disguised as “relocation programs.” Dirty money wired to politicians who smiled too easily on camera. Every sin cataloged, timestamped, archived neatly like they were proud of their crimes.“Id