All Chapters of The CEO's Unwanted Wife : Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Third POVSebastian had always been good at finding things out. Too good, sometimes. A quick call to a mutual acquaintance, a casual question dropped in the right ear, and the information came sliding back to him like it had been waiting there all along. That was how he learned Fiona had gone to her prenatal appointment earlier that day, and that Maverick had been with her.The news hit him like cold water thrown in his face. He sat in his office for a long minute after hanging up the phone, staring at the wall without really seeing it. His fingers drummed once on the desk, then stopped. He stood up, grabbed his coat, and left without telling his assistant where he was going.The drive to Sofia’s house in New York felt longer than it should have. Rain from earlier in the day had left the streets shiny and slick. Streetlights reflected in puddles, turning everything orange and blurred. Sebastian kept both hands tight on the wheel, jaw locked. He told himself he was just going to talk.

Fiona POVWeeks slipped by quieter than I expected. Mornings started with ginger tea to settle the nausea that still came and went, afternoons were spent curled on the couch with a blanket over my legs, reading baby name books or scrolling through nursery ideas on my phone. I wasn’t working, not really. The London office sent gentle emails every so often, asking if I wanted to hop on a call or review designs from home. I answered with short, polite messages: “Not yet. Taking time.” They didn’t push. Maybe Sofia had spoken to them. Or maybe they could hear in my voice that I wasn’t ready to pretend everything was fine.The days felt slow, almost gentle. Rainy ones I stayed inside with the windows open just enough to smell the wet pavement. Sunny ones I walked the block with Raina or Jiyeon, arms linked, talking about nothing important. Therapy with Dr. Linda twice a week helped more than I wanted to admit. She never rushed me to “move on” from Maverick or Sebastian or the past. She j

Fiona POVThe days had started to feel softer around the edges. Not perfect, not easy, but less jagged. I woke up most mornings with the same quiet routine: tea with lemon, a short walk around the block if the weather cooperated, then an hour or two curled on the couch with my laptop open to baby blogs or Pinterest boards full of nurseries I wasn’t sure I’d ever recreate. The bump was more pronounced now, five months, and I caught myself resting both hands on it when I sat still, feeling the occasional flutter that still made my breath catch. Little kicks. Little hellos. Proof that the twins were growing, safe, real.Maverick and I had been talking more. Not every day at first, but the silences between calls had shrunk. A quick text to confirm an appointment time. A photo of a crib he’d seen online with a simple “Thoughts?” from him. My replies started short—“Looks sturdy.”—and gradually lengthened. “The white one with the rounded edges might be safer.” He always answered within min

Third POVThe bedroom was heavy with heat and the sharp scent of sex. Sheets twisted into knots around their legs, pillows shoved to the floor, clothes scattered like evidence of a hurried surrender. Irene’s dark hair fanned across the mattress, strands sticking to her damp neck and collarbone. Her nails still dug faint red crescents into Sebastian’s shoulders as he moved above her, hard and deliberate, chasing the only kind of silence that ever worked for him anymore.She moaned his name—long, drawn-out, almost theatrical at first, but turning raw as the rhythm built. “Sebastian… fuck… yes, like that…” He answered with a low growl of her name, teeth grazing the curve of her throat. No tenderness. Just hunger. Just the need to feel something sharp enough to drown out the quieter ache underneath. bodies slapped together in frantic agreement until the tension snapped. Irene arched beneath him, crying out as her release hit, thighs clamping tight around his hips. Sebastian followed s

Third POVThe house smelled like vanilla and fresh paint by mid-morning. Boxes still littered the hallway, but the nursery door stood open now, letting sunlight spill across the sage-green walls and the two cribs that were finally standing upright. Raina and Charles had arrived just after breakfast, arms full of coffee cups and a bakery bag that promised croissants. Charles, always easygoing, with a quick laugh and arms that looked made for heavy lifting, immediately rolled up his sleeves and joined Maverick in the room. The two men worked in comfortable rhythm: measuring, drilling, tightening screws, occasionally arguing good-naturedly over which way a rail was supposed to face.Downstairs in the kitchen, Fiona and Raina had claimed the island counter as their territory. Bowls, measuring cups, and a stand mixer whirred softly while they mixed batter for lemon-blueberry cupcakes, Fiona’s current craving, and gossiped like they were teenagers again.Raina leaned against the counter,