All Chapters of Pregnant with the Wrong Man’s Child: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The hall still hummed with music and voices, but I could barely hear it. My hand was clenched so tightly around the little note in my palm that the paper had already crumpled. My wrist still throbbed where Adrian had grabbed me earlier, and though my body was here, my mind kept spinning back to the way his eyes had looked at me, the sound of his whisper.I forced myself to breathe slowly as I walked back into the edge of the ballroom. Damian was standing with Celeste, their conversation calm, measured. His posture was as straight as ever, his expression unreadable, but I noticed the way his eyes flicked toward me the moment I stepped back into view.I knew I could not stay here. Not another second.I moved closer, waiting until Celeste turned to greet someone else. Then I touched Damian lightly on the arm. He shifted immediately, his eyes coming down to meet mine.“I am not feeling well,” I whispered, my voice barely steady. “Can we leave?”His eyes sharpened at once. “What is wrong?”

I woke up later than usual, sunlight spilling gently across the room. The space beside me was empty, the sheets already cold, and I knew Damian had left for work hours ago. For a moment I stayed there in the quiet, letting the warmth of the morning wrap around me, before I stretched and pressed a hand to my stomach. My eye caught the ring Damian had given me. It had caught the light, sparkling faintly as though it was alive. The stone was not too large or too small, just enough to draw the eye without overwhelming it. A single diamond sat in the center, clear and steady, and the band was smooth and slim, resting so naturally on my finger that it almost felt like it had always belonged there. There was a quiet elegance to it, timeless and unpretentious, a reflection of something deeper than wealth or show. As I traced the band with my thumb, the memories of the night before washed over me. Dinner had felt like a turning point, but what came after left me shaken in a way I could

The ride back from Damian’s parents’ estate was quiet, but inside I was a storm. The note in my clutch felt heavier than gold, its words etched into my mind like a curse: Don’t marry him. Meet me tonight. My fingers brushed over the fabric, over the folded paper hidden inside, and no matter how I tried to look calm beside Damian, my chest was racing.When we reached the house, he disappeared into his study without a word, leaving me in the dim silence of the living room. I sat on the edge of the couch, clutch tight against me, my nails digging into the leather strap. The clock ticked too loudly, each second sounding like a warning, but still I couldn’t shake the pull of those words.I told myself it was probably nothing, a cruel joke, maybe even an enemy of Damian’s trying to get in my head. I told myself I should throw the note in the fire and let it burn to ash before it consumed me. But when I tried to move, my legs refused to obey.By the time the clock chimed nine, the decision w

The headlines spread like wildfire. By morning, every major paper and gossip column had splashed my face across their pages, twisting a single stolen moment into a narrative that painted me as the villain. The Unfaithful Fiancée, the bold letters screamed, and beneath them were cruel words that made my stomach turn. Damian’s empire was spotless, his reputation untouchable, and now I had become the stain they wanted to drag across his name.By the time I made it downstairs, I could hear the muffled voices of his parents echoing through the hall. His mother’s sharp tone cut through the walls like knives, while his father’s deep baritone carried a weight of authority that made my knees weak before I even saw them. I stood frozen in the doorway of the sitting room, my hands trembling at my sides, as their eyes shifted toward me.“What on earth have you done?” his mother hissed, her pearls catching the morning light as though even they disapproved of me. She looked me up and down with a sn

The world outside the mansion was still chaos. Reporters shouted questions, security cars lined the streets, and the air still smelled faintly of gunpowder. Inside, everything was too quiet. The silence didn’t feel like peace—it felt like the breath held between two storms.After the gunshots at the wedding, Damian had gone into command mode. He barked orders to his men, ordered everyone out of the garden, and made sure the press didn’t get a single close picture of either of us. By the time we got back inside, he was calm again. Too calm. Like the danger had only fueled something cold inside him.I sat on the edge of the couch in the grand hall, my fingers still trembling. My hair was half undone, the veil long gone, the gown heavy with dust and grass from where we had fallen. I could still feel the weight of Damian’s body over mine, the warmth of his breath when he told me to stay down. But now that it was quiet, I couldn’t stop thinking about how quickly he had moved, how prepared