Semua Bab MY EX IS PREGNANT FOR ME : Bab 61 - Bab 70

The city at night looked almost beautiful from a distance—like circuitry come to life. Millions of windows glowed in perfect grids, each one a pulse in the new network we had unleashed. But beneath the light was something darker. Something waiting.We parked three blocks from the core tower that housed the Board’s communications hub. It was the tallest structure in Lisbon, built of glass and arrogance. Its servers didn’t just store data—they stored people. Identities, memories, digital ghosts. And now it wanted me back.Mira set up the portable relay on the dashboard. “Once you’re inside the system, I can’t follow. Their encryption folds reality—layers within layers. If they trap your mind in there…”She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to.Lena reached for my hand, squeezing it once. “Then don’t get trapped.”I smiled faintly. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”“I’ve watched you do it too many times,” she said softly.We found a safe house overlooking the tower. The storm had mo

The air inside the tower felt alive, humming like the world’s nervous system. Every wall thrummed with hidden power, every light flickered like a heartbeat out of rhythm. Lena moved ahead of me, her fingers dancing across the control pad she’d pried open with a piece of scrap metal. The girl who once feared the sound of her own pulse was now hacking into the most dangerous structure on Earth. We slipped through the maintenance corridor, following Mira’s voice in our earpieces. “Security is on internal lockdown. They know someone breached the neural interface. That gives you six minutes before they redirect power to your sector.” “Plenty,” I said, though my heart disagreed. Lena shot me a glance. “You always say that right before everything explodes.” She wasn’t wrong. We reached a junction where the corridor split into mirrored paths. A faint tremor ran through the floor, like the tower itself was breathing. Lena crouched beside a glowing panel, her brows furrowing as she traced

The rain had stopped sometime before dawn, leaving the air thick with the scent of wet earth and unspoken words. I woke to the faint hum of the city outside — the kind that made the world feel suspended between what had happened and what might come next. Adrian was already awake, standing by the window, the early light tracing the lines of his shoulders through the white shirt he hadn’t bothered to button completely.He didn’t turn when I sat up, but I could sense the shift in him — the quiet, the way his breath seemed caught somewhere between calm and restlessness.“Couldn’t sleep again?” I asked softly.He turned then, eyes shadowed yet steady. “Didn’t want to.”There was something about his tone that made my chest tighten. He crossed the room slowly and sat beside me, his hand brushing mine with that familiar hesitation, like every touch was a question he still wasn’t sure I’d answer.For a moment, we said nothing. Just silence — thick, pulsing, full of everything we didn’t know ho

The night was restless, alive with sirens and the echo of distant chaos. We stayed close to the walls, moving through the narrow alleys that twisted behind the docks. Lena’s hand was locked in mine, her pulse fast but steady. Every few seconds, she glanced back, checking for movement, for shadows that didn’t belong to the city.We reached the far end of the port, where the lights thinned and the smell of salt grew stronger. Old fishing boats swayed gently against the current, their ropes creaking like whispers. I scanned the horizon—nothing but dark water and the faint glow of the city behind us. For the first time in hours, I let myself breathe.Lena sank down onto a wooden crate, brushing hair from her face. “We can’t keep doing this,” she said quietly. “Running, hiding. It’s eating us alive.”I crouched beside her. “We’re not hiding. We’re surviving.”“Is there a difference anymore?” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t look at me. “Every step we take, we lose another part of who we w

The storm hit before noon, swallowing the horizon in gray. Waves towered over the ferry, crashing down with a force that made the metal hull shudder and groan like a living thing. Adrian gripped the wheel hard enough for his knuckles to whiten, the salt spray stinging his eyes, the taste of the sea sharp and metallic on his tongue. Lena was beside him, soaked to the bone, her hair plastered against her face, one hand clinging to the railing and the other steadying the radio as if it were their last link to something that made sense. The rain came sideways, needles of cold that cut through their clothes, and the sky above looked torn open by flashes of lightning that painted the world in bursts of white. “Power’s dipping!” she shouted over the roar. “Hold it together,” Adrian yelled back. “We lose this boat, we lose everything.” The words felt smaller than the storm, barely reaching her, but she heard him anyway. She always did. The radio hissed, crackled, then pulsed—a rhythm under th