All Chapters of Mr. President Has A Baby Bump: Chapter 271 - Chapter 280

🖱️Jayden🖱️ The last thing I expected this morning was my dad Jay walking into my room and finding Sammy one breath away from ripping someone apart. I still felt it in my chest. The snap. The danger. The way Sammy almost lost control in front of my parents. I needed to talk to him later. Properly. Before this turned into something worse. Dad Jay folded his arms and looked straight at me like I had personally ruined his morning peace. “So,” he said slowly, eyes sharp. “Are you fucking the two of them. Or are you two timing them so badly they now want to kill each other.” My brain short circuited. “Are you for real dada,” I said. Dad Alex gasped like he had been slapped. Dad Jay has always been the dramatic one and his brain always formula weird conclusions are the time. But this was a conclusion I was not expecting this morning. “Baby,” he snapped. “Why would you even ask that. Are you really talking to our virgin son like this.” Not helping papa I thought Dad Jay did no

🖱️Sammy🖱️ Watching him walk away took everything in me not to launch after him and snap his neck against the nearest wall. Victor walked like a man who knew he had already won something. Unbothered. Calm. Confident. Like the weight of what he had just asked for did not matter. Like my rage was background noise. My wolf paced violently inside me, claws scraping, teeth bared, screaming for blood. Wolves did not walk away from threats. Wolves did not negotiate when their mate was involved. Wolves destroyed. But I was not just a wolf. I was a prince. And a wolf prince going back on a promised favour had never happened in history. Not once. Our word was law. Our debts were sacred. Break one and you might as well carve weakness into your bones. Still. Jayden’s blood. The thought made something ugly twist in my chest. Behind me, footsteps approached. I did not turn. I already knew who it was. “Why is he asking for Jayden’s blood,” Jane asked, her arms folded tight across her ches

🖱️Jayden🖱️Breakfast at home used to be sacred.Growing up, it was the one time we all slowed down. Papa humming while flipping pancakes. Dada pretending not to care but always making sure everyone’s plate was full. Alexandra stealing food off my plate and swearing it tasted better because it was mine. It was loud, warm and always safe.This morning felt like a crime scene.The dining table was set perfectly, just like always, but nothing about this felt normal. The air was thick, heavy, like it might crack if someone breathed wrong. Sammy sat on my right, close enough that I could feel the tension radiating off him in sharp waves. His posture was too straight, his eyes were dark and dangerous. The kind of stillness that meant violence was being held back by sheer will.Victor sat on my left after fighting Jane for the sit. He sat very close to me, too close even. Way too comfortable. Legs crossed, posture relaxed, lips curved in that lazy smile that made my skin crawl. He looked li

🖱️Victor🖱️I did not follow him into the kitchen because I wanted blood.Not at first.I followed him because annoying Jayden had become muscle memory. Because riling him up was easy and familiar and safe. Because his reactions were sharp and honest and entertaining in a way most people stopped being after a few decades. Because I liked watching him pretend he was not affected by me when every emotion he had lived right on his face.He walked away from the table stiff backed, wounded pride practically dripping off him, and I smiled to myself and followed quietly from where I sat after leaving the table earlier. No one on the dining table noticed that I followed him.Just a little push, I thought. One more button. Then I would leave him alone.That was the plan.Then I smelled his blood.It hit me like a fist to the chest.Warm. Bright. Alive. Not just human blood, no. This was different. It carried something underneath the iron and heat. Something ancient and resonant, like standing

🖱️Jayden🖱️Walking to my room took everything in me.Every step felt borrowed. Like my body was moving on memory alone and not because it wanted to. I had lied about needing the toilet and I knew it. I knew they heard it in my voice. That forced rush. That fake normal tone people use when they are absolutely not okay.I did not look back.If I had, I would have broken.By the time I reached the stairs my legs were already shaking and the farther I got from the dining room the worse it became. Whatever happened in that kitchen did not stay there. It followed me. It wrapped itself around my spine and squeezed tighter with every step.I pushed my bedroom door open and shut it behind me, then leaned against it like it was the only thing holding me upright.Then the pain hit.Not like anything I had felt before. Not a cut. Not fear. Not panic.This felt borrowed. It was like it was waiting me to get to my room before it takes over me.Like my body had opened itself to something that did