Semua Bab Claimed By The Billionaire Ex: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Chapter 30: Against My WillAurora’s POVMy hand hovered above the car door handle as if it were some ridiculous test of self-control. The gravel crunched under Jace’s shoes behind me, and the air between us was a living thing — cold, bristling, full of words neither of us would surrender first.“Give me the keys. I’ll drive,” he said calmly.“No,” I said, flat and final. My voice might have been tired, but it was steady.“Don’t be ridiculous, Aurora. You’re shaking. Give me the keys, I’ll drive us,” he pressed.“Again, Jace, no. If we are going to the hospital together, then just get in and don’t say anything as stupid as you driving,” I told him.“Aurora, you do know Alex is my son too, right? I’m worried about him too,” he said.I chuckled at his words. The first time he said it in the restaurant, I didn’t pay any mind because I was so preoccupied with getting to my son, but right now… I mean, I was still preoccupied with getting to Alex, but Jace had no right to claim Alex was his

Chapter 32: I'll Drag You Through Hell Aurora’s POVThere is a moment before departure when everything feels suspended — alarms beeping in time with your heartbeat, hands in latex gloves moving with machine-like calm, the fluorescent lights above the stretcher giving the world a clinical, cinematic glow. I learned to live inside that small, precise sphere as the medevac team finished their checks. Outside, Saint-Cloud slid back into ordinary life: rain on the pavement, cars moving past, a nurse folding her scarf and walking away. Inside, we were narrowing toward one single thing: getting Alex to New York.Dr. Mallet stood at the foot of the bed as if he wanted to be everywhere at once. He’d been there since the first alarm: the subtle climb in Alex’s bilirubin, the change in labs that turned months of plan into a frantic timetable. Now he checked the monitors again, voice low, efficient. “We’re on schedule for transport. We have confirmation from New York: Dr. Kim and her team will be

Chapter 34: The Waiting RoomAurora’s POVHospitals have their own kind of silence — not the comforting sort, but the kind that hums, like air before a storm. You learn to live in it, breathe it, measure it against the clock that never seems to move.Kelsey and I had been here for hours. The waiting room was quiet except for the mechanical murmur of vending machines and the faint squeak of rubber soles on the polished linoleum. Through the glass doors, I could see the reflection of fluorescent lights painting pale halos across the floor.Every so often, a nurse passed, and both our heads would lift. Each time, she’d smile politely, say nothing, and move on. No news meant everything was still going according to plan — that’s what one nurse had said. But the phrase had become its own small torture. I needed to know what was going on.Kelsey sat beside me, cross-legged on the chair, hands clasped like she was praying without meaning to. The coffee she’d bought from the vending machine h

Chapter 36: HomecomingAurora’s POVThe morning air outside Riverbend Medical Center was lighter than it had been in weeks. The sky hung pale and blue as Kelsey and I stood by the entrance, coffee in hand, the steam curling up between us.Six weeks. That’s how long it had been since the surgery. Six weeks of slow steps, sleepless nights, and the quiet, trembling kind of hope that never left my chest.Kelsey let out a sigh, eyes drifting toward the wide glass doors. “Feels weird, doesn’t it? Not waking up every morning to this place. I think I might actually miss the smell of disinfectant."I smiled faintly. “No one in the world has ever said that before, Kels.”She grinned. “Guess I’m one of a kind.” Then, softer: “You sure you’re ready for this?”“Ready?” I exhaled, feeling the word. “I’ve been waiting for this since the first night he was admitted.”Inside, the familiar hum of the pediatric wing wrapped around me like a heartbeat — nurses chatting quietly, machines beeping in steady

Chapter 38: The Unscheduled Visit AURORA’S POVSix weeks in New York.Six weeks of hospitals, recovery, appointments, sleepless nights, and now—finally—quiet mornings where Alex actually woke up smiling instead of in pain. Six weeks of pretending the city no longer made my skin crawl. Six weeks of pretending I didn’t care that Jace Carter still had the same irritatingly patient way of looking at me, as if time belonged to him and the rest of us merely borrowed it.And six weeks of delay.I buttoned the cuff of my white silk blouse, tugged it sharply to set the fabric straight. The mirror showed a woman composed—hair neatly pulled into a knot, lips bare, jewelry minimal, tailored black trousers sharp enough to slice. But beneath the surface, the simmering irritation cracked at the edges like pressure beneath thin ice.Alex was better. Better enough to ask for pancakes. Better enough to complain that I was hovering. Better enough to be temporarily left in the care of Kelsey, who was pro