All Chapters of A baby for the billionaire: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Isabel froze, her mouth dry. Her fingers tightened around the kids’ hands, but her voice wouldn’t come out. Isaac stared at her, his jaw hard, eyes searching her face like he was trying to make sense of what he just heard. He took a slow step closer, his chest still rising fast. “I asked a question,” he said, his tone low but sharp. “Did that girl just call you mommy?” Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might break through her chest. She pulled the kids behind her, shaking her head as if that could erase what had happened. He looked half-wild, panicked but trying not to show it. “Isaac, please,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. He stepped closer, the air between them thick. “Answer me,” he said again. “Is she your daughter?” She pressed her lips together, trying to breathe, trying not to fall apart. Her mind raced, searching for words that wouldn’t destroy everything. She could feel the kids clutching her shirt, their small fingers digging into her skin. “I s

“Mommy!” Mia ran straight into her arms, giggling as Isabel bent to catch her. Zack followed close behind, waving. “You came!” “Of course I did,” Isabel said, smiling softly. “Let’s go.” Kian helped hold the nursery door open. “Hey guys,” he said, smiling at the twins. Mia blinked up at him. “Who’s that?” “He’s a friend,” Isabel said quickly. “He helped mommy today.” Kian raised a hand. “Hi. I’m Kian.” Zack tilted his head. “You look like a doctor.” Isabel let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Because he is one.” The ride back was mostly quiet, the twins humming in the back seat while Isabel stared out the window. Her fingers stayed curled against her thigh the entire ride. Her ankle still throbbed, but her chest felt worse. Every time she closed her eyes, all she saw was Isaac’s face, the fury, the disbelief, the way he looked when she said the word husband. “Here,” Kian said, handing her a small card. “That’s my number. Clinic and personal.” She took it s

“You’re still not saying stop,” Isaac muttered against her mouth. Isabel gripped his shirt tighter, breath hot against his. “Don’t act like you don’t want this.” He kissed her again, harder this time, both hands sliding under her shirt, palms moving up her back. Her bra unclasped without warning. She gasped when the cold air hit her skin, but then his hands were there, cupping her, thumbs brushing over her nipples. Her head dropped back with a sharp inhale. “We shouldn’t.” “You already are,” he breathed. Their mouths crashed again. It was all teeth and tongue, breathless and uneven. She tugged his shirt up, hands fumbling with the buttons she was too impatient to undo properly. “Take it off,” she snapped. He pulled it over his head and tossed it. Her hands were all over his chest, nails dragging down, fingers sliding over every inch of skin she used to know by heart. He yanked her shirt over her head next, threw her bra to the floor, and wrapped both arms around her,

Isabel gasped when he rolled them over, her back hitting the mattress again, still wrapped around him. “Isaac,” she breathed, her hands flying to his chest, her legs twitching from the overstimulation. He didn’t pull out. His eyes stayed on hers, dark and half-lidded, his breathing shallow. His hands gripped her hips tighter. “You said not to stop,” he muttered. She swallowed hard. “I thought you came.” “I did,” he said, dragging his lips over her jaw, “and I’m still hard.” Her body clenched around him involuntarily. He felt it, cursed under his breath, and pushed in again, slower this time, but deeper. Her nails scraped down his arms. “It’s too much.” “No, it’s not.” His hands slid under her thighs and lifted her legs higher, folding her slightly as he thrust in again. Her mouth dropped open with a moan she couldn’t stop. “I can feel how wet you still are,” he murmured. “You’re not done.” He pulled out almost entirely, then slammed back in with a force that

Isabel stared at the message, her jaw tightening. "Send your account details for the deposit." She blinked, like she was seeing it wrong. Her fingers curled around the phone, grip tightening. She sat down on the edge of the couch, phone still in her hand. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she muttered. She tapped the screen, reread the message. There was no name, no follow-up, no softness. Just the message. Cold. Straight to the point. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. She ran her hand down her face. "So that's what I am? A fucking invoice?" She stood up quickly, pacing across the room. The kids were still in the other room watching cartoons. She pressed the side of her phone and blocked the number. "Asshole," she said under her breath. She has set it up but she didn't expect him to actually treat her like a prostitute. She didn’t even care how he got her number. Maybe he already had it saved. Maybe he bought it off someone