All Chapters of The Tycoon's Secret Pregnant-Wife: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Macy wasn’t used to being idle. She hadn’t had a chance to be, never in her life. As a child, she had had to work hard to earn her place in the orphanage, then at school. After she had gotten pregnant with Will, that had just made it all worse. Now that she was given a chance to fell relax and do nothing, she was going stir crazy. At first, being pregnant with twins had felt like a warm secret, something that wrapped her days in softness. But now, confined to the house by Graeme and Marianne’s firm advice, Macy was starting to feel caged.“You need to rest,” Graeme had said that morning, kissing her forehead. “No work, no stress. Just take care of yourself and the babies.”“Your health is the priority,” Marianne had echoed. “You’re not going to lift a finger if I can help it.”That had sounded comforting at the time. But by noon, Macy found herself wandering the garden, hands clasped behind her back, eyes darting toward the flower beds just to do something.Near the rosebushes, a ga

Annette stared after Macy, her heels echoing faintly as she walked away from the boutique. There had been a flicker in her own eyes, a slight crack in her composure. A strange weight in her chest, but she buried it quickly.No one saw it. No one ever would.Annette stood still for a while, watching mother as she shopped. Her mother had already stepped into the fitting area, busy snapping instructions at the assistants. Annette tried to ignore the rising fury in her chest, but she wasn’t successful. Without a word, she turned and walked out of the room.“Macy,” she called coldly.Macy stopped, turning slowly, visibly tired. “What now?”Annette folded her arms. “You touched the coat. You should wash it before it is worn.”Macy blinked, confused. “What?”“You heard me. You had your hands all over it. It’s custom-made. My sister doesn’t need your prints on it.”Macy’s brows furrowed. “I didn’t even wear it. I barely touched the sleeve.”Annette took a step closer, anger eating into her ve

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft thud, encasing the Richards inside. Macy stood beside Graeme, her coat still gripped tight in her hands. Her shoulder stung from where the fabric had been yanked, but her mind was elsewhere—buzzing, unsettled.Rita.The name echoed in her ears like a ghost dragged into the light.Unease settled deep into her gut. She didn’t speak as they walked toward the car. Neither did Graeme. His jaw was locked, his brows low over his eyes, expression unreadable.Macy climbed in silently. The car door closed with a soft click, muffling the world outside. For a few moments, all that could be heard was the hum of the engine and the sound of her own breathing.Then Graeme spoke, quietly. “I didn’t expect her to say that.”His voice was lower than usual. Not uncertain, but distant, like he was somewhere else entirely.Macy turned to look at him. “Do you think it’s true?”He didn’t answer right away. He just looked out the window, his fingers loosely clasped i

That evening, the house was unusually quiet. Soft golden light spilled from the bedroom’s overhead lamp, casting long shadows across the carpet. Graeme was on the bed with Will, sitting upright against the headboard. One hand held an open storybook, the other gently rubbing his son’s back as he read in a low, soothing voice. Will leaned against him, eyes wide as he listened to the tale unfold. Across the room, Macy stood by the wardrobe, a frown on her face. She held a pastel green dress in her hands, turning it slightly from side to side. Her nose wrinkled.“No,” she muttered, tossing the dress onto the growing pile on the armchair. “Too tight around the stomach.”She reached for another hanger. This one held a soft pink gown with capped sleeves and a square neckline. She held it against herself, studied her reflection in the mirror, then frowned again. “Too… revealing. And clingy.”Graeme glanced up from the book, arching a brow. “That one looks fine.”“It doesn’t,” Macy said firml

Soon, Macy arrived at the welfare home, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She hadn’t been there in a long while, and now, standing before the gates, nostalgia and warmth swept over her. The familiar walls of the old building stood quietly in the morning light, their paint slightly faded but still welcoming.The atmosphere buzzed with excitement—families chatting, children laughing, volunteers moving in and out. There were people of all ages gathered at the entrance, some accompanied by family members, others arriving alone but smiling brightly as they prepared to take part in the day’s activities.Macy inhaled deeply and walked forward. A cheerful staff member at the gate handed her a clipboard and a pen. “Please fill in your information, ma’am,” she said with a kind smile. Macy nodded, thanked her, and found a small corner where she could fill out the form. Her handwriting was slightly shaky at first—part nerves, part emotion—but she completed the required details and returned