All Chapters of Too Late , I am Carrying His Child : Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

The next morning, Nathaniel’s mansion buzzed with quiet tension. The police cars parked outside made the entire household uneasy. Every staff member moved around nervously, whispering to one another as the officers entered with serious faces. Nathaniel sat in the living room, his expression blank but his mind spinning. He still couldn’t believe someone had tried to kill him. The brake didn’t just fail—it was clearly cut. Someone close to him wanted him dead. Detective Harris, a tall man with a deep voice, stepped forward. “Mr. Nathaniel, we’ll need to question every member of your staff. We believe the suspect might be someone with access to your vehicles.” Nathaniel nodded slowly. “Do whatever you need to do. I just want to know who’s behind this.” One by one, the staff were called into the study. The room felt cold and heavy with fear. First was the driver. “Did you notice anything strange about the car that morning?” Harris asked. The driver shook his head quickly. “N

Cassandra sat on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling as she kept dialing Vanessa’s number. The mansion felt too quiet, too cold. Every tick of the wall clock echoed through her chest like a drum. When Vanessa finally answered, Cassandra’s voice cracked. “Please come over… I need you. It’s urgent.” Vanessa, alarmed by her tone, didn’t waste time. Within thirty minutes, she arrived at the mansion. The guards at the gate let her in without question—they all knew how close she and Cassandra were. As Vanessa walked into the living room, she found Cassandra pacing restlessly, her hair messy, her eyes red from tears. “Cassandra!” Vanessa rushed to her. “What happened? You sounded so scared on the phone.” Cassandra didn’t answer right away. Instead, she burst into tears, holding her face with shaking hands. “Vanessa… I think I’m finished. I think they’ll find out everything.” Vanessa frowned and gently helped her sit down. “Find out what? What are you talking about?” Ca

It was a calm afternoon when the police cars drove through the big gate of Nathaniel’s mansion. The security man opened it fast, looking nervous. Cassandra was in the living room, flipping through a magazine, pretending to be relaxed. Nathaniel was on a phone call in his study when one of the maids came running in. “Sir, the police are here again,” she said softly. Nathaniel sighed, rubbed his forehead, and dropped the phone. He walked out slowly to meet them. Two officers stood at the entrance, hats in hand, their faces serious. “Good afternoon, Mr. Nathaniel,” one of them said politely. “Good afternoon, officers. I wasn’t expecting you today,” Nathaniel replied. “Please, come in.” They entered the sitting room. Cassandra quickly stood up, forcing a smile, though her palms were sweating. “Welcome, officers. Would you like some tea?” The younger officer shook his head. “No, ma’am. We just came to give an update.” Nathaniel nodded and sat down, motioning for them to d

Clara sat alone in the dim hotel room, the city lights a blur through the thin curtains. Her hands folded around a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. Outside, life moved on — couples laughed, cars passed, music leaked from a bar. Inside, her world narrowed to one thought: Savannah. And the small boy who had the audacity to smile like he owned Adrian’s heart.At first she told herself she would only scare Savannah. Make her step back. Make Adrian look only at her again. But the idea shifted, like a crack that grows under pressure. Fear had turned into need. Need had turned into a plan. The plan had no name anymore. It was simply the thing that would stop Savannah from taking what Clara wanted — the life she once imagined with Adrian before he left her.She drew the curtains tighter and pressed her forehead to the fabric. “No more half measures,” she whispered to herself. “No more waiting.”She opened the notebook she kept for thoughts she did not want on the phone. On the top o

The day passed slowly, the sun burning high above the streets as three men stood by a corner near the main school route, pretending to fix a motorcycle. They looked ordinary to anyone passing by, but their real mission was dark. Clara had sent them to watch out for Liam’s school bus. The leader of the group, a tall man named Ray, kept checking his watch. “The bus should’ve passed by now,” he muttered. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he scanned every car that drove by. “It’s almost afternoon, and there’s no sign of the kid.”One of the others, a younger man called Tino, kicked a small stone in frustration. “Maybe they used another road,” he said. Ray shook his head. “Impossible. The school bus always uses this same street. Something’s wrong.” They waited another thirty minutes, but the yellow bus never came. Children from nearby schools walked by, laughing, but none of them was Liam. Finally, Ray pulled out his phone and dialed Clara’s number. She answered at once, her to