All Chapters of Pregnant for the Heartless Billionaire: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Damien’s POVThe sky had turned violet when we returned inside. Mrs Longman was in the kitchen again, humming, pretending not to watch us. Dinner was light, grilled fish, wine, and soft bread. Elena set the table with her usual precision; I uncorked the bottle.We talked about Westmere, how the twins would react to seeing me again, how to explain the storm of media without scaring them. Every time she spoke about them, her face softened in a way that made me fall in love all over again.“You’ll be leaving tomorrow,” I said quietly when she gathered the plates.“Yes,” she said. “The kids start school again on Monday. I promised Elijah I’d be back by then.”I nodded. “I’ll miss this.”She smiled faintly. “Then make it count.”So we did. We moved to the living room, the lights low, a quiet movie playing more for noise than attention. She sat beside me, her head resting against my shoulder. I let myself breathe without guilt.Halfway through the movie, she said, “You look calmer today.”“

Damien’s POVBefore I could think, before restraint could catch up with instinct, my fist connected with his jaw. The crack echoed through the foyer.James stumbled back, hitting the doorframe with a muffled grunt. Blood appeared at the corner of his mouth. For a moment, he looked stunned, then amused.He straightened slowly, wiping the blood with his thumb. “So the rumors are true,” he said, smiling faintly. “You’ve lost your temper.”“Get out of my house,” I said, my voice cold enough to burn. “Before I forget how to stop.”He met my eyes, that infuriating smirk still playing at his mouth. “This isn’t over, cousin,” he said quietly. “You can throw your punches and play the protective husband all you like, but you and I both know, everything you’ve built is one scandal away from collapse.”“Try me,” I said.He gave a short laugh, turned, and walked out, still wiping the blood from his lip. The door closed behind him with a dull thud that echoed through the hall.For a moment, silence

Elena’s POVDamien’s words hit something deep in my chest. There was no anger, no guilt, no manipulation, just quiet conviction. And for a man who had once tried to control everything, that humility was almost painful to see.“Damien…” I began softly, but he shook his head.“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll spend the day with the kids. They’ll want to show me whatever my mother started in the kitchen.”His tone was casual, but the way he said the kids made my throat tighten.Before I could say anything more, my phone buzzed again. This time it was Alia.Hey, girl! I’m ready. Please tell me we’re still going to the golf club. I’ve been practising my swing!I sighed, torn. The timing was almost cruel. “That was Alia,” I said, holding up the phone. “She’s already on her way.”He nodded. “Then you should go.”“I can cancel.”“Don’t,” he said simply. “You deserve normal days too.”I looked at him for a long moment, trying to read what sat behind his calm. Regret? Acc

Elena’s POVAfter several rounds of persuasion and Alia’s teasing, Elijah gave in. His first attempt was disastrous; the ball barely rolled an inch. Alia laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone. By the third swing, though, he connected cleanly, sending the ball sailing across the field.He turned, smug. “Beginner’s luck.”“Or hidden talent,” Alia said, eyes bright.I leaned toward Ethan, whispering, “It’s definitely because of Alia.”He glanced at me, eyebrows raised. “You think so?”“I know so,” I said. “He’s allergic to sports unless there’s a pretty woman involved.”Ethan burst out laughing, and when I told Elijah what I’d said, he groaned. “You two are insufferable.”“Admit it,” I teased. “You’re enjoying yourself.”“I plead the Fifth,” he muttered, but the grin he tried to hide said otherwise.The afternoon passed lightly. There was laughter, a few decent shots, and the kind of small joy that felt almost foreign lately. The sun mellowed over the horizon, washing everything in

Damien’s POVElena had fallen asleep in my arms not long after the crying stopped. Her breathing was shallow, her hands still trembling even in rest. I carried her upstairs, holding her as though she’d break if I let go. She didn’t stir.In the bedroom, I laid her gently on the bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. She looked fragile, her lashes still damp from tears. I tucked the blanket around her shoulders and stood there for a long while, watching the rise and fall of her chest until it steadied.Anger simmered low in my gut. Whoever had sent those men , whoever thought they could touch her , had just signed their death warrant.When I was sure she was asleep, I stepped into the study and closed the door behind me. The air felt thick with silence. I picked up my phone and dialed the one man who never hesitated to answer, no matter the hour.“Adrian,” I said the second he picked up.“Damien.” His tone was clipped, alert. “I was just about to call you. The guards report