All Chapters of Pregnant by my Ex-Boyfriend’s Father: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Aria POVI told myself it wasn’t about love.That was the story I chose. Clean. Practical. Almost convincing.I wasn’t clicking the link because of Alex.I was clicking it because of my child.Because one day, someone would ask questions.Because sincerity mattered more than affection.Because if the man tied to my future had been lying to my face, I deserved to know now. Not later. Not when it was too late to rearrange my life around the truth.At least, that was what I told myself.Still, my finger hesitated.Not fear. Not exactly.Instinct.I closed the browser.I wasn’t doing this here.Not in a borrowed space. Not in a hotel room that still smelled faintly of someone else’s perfume and disinfectant. Not somewhere that didn’t know me.Some truths demanded familiar walls.So I packed.Not carefully. Not thoughtfully. I shoved clothes into my bag, left the knitting half folded, ignored the front desk’s smile as I checked out early. The drive home felt longer than usual. Every red li

Alex povToday is the general meeting for the company.I wake already exhausted.Not the kind of tired sleep fixes. The deeper kind. Bone level. My body aches with a dull heaviness that makes even turning in bed feel deliberate. Every movement costs something.This health condition is beginning to erode my quality of life.Not dramatically. Not loudly.Quietly. Systematically.I have no appetite. Food feels unnecessary, almost offensive. I force down nothing. Coffee will suffice. It always has. I am mid sentence when I notice the lights. They are too bright. Not flickering. Not malfunctioning. Just bright in a way that feels personal. Fluorescent, clinical, humming faintly above my head like they are aware of me. Like they are watching. “and if we align compliance with the revised Q3 projections, we avoid exposure in Zurich entirely,” I say, voice steady, measured. I hear myself. I sound like myself. Around the table, heads nod. Pens move. Screens glow. This is familiar territor

Alex POVTwo weeks after the diagnosis, I understood something unpleasant.I came to the conclusion that I was not ready to die.It was not dramatic.No revelation. No divine interruption. No cinematic clarity.Like what those motivational speakers say.Just a quiet resistance settling in my chest like a stubborn refusal.A simple fact.I could not surrender my life to probability.I know I have a brain tumor and a failing heart but if I can save the heart, I can live for a few more months.Not yet.Not when there were still unfinished negotiations, unresolved conflicts, and a future with Aria I had spent months engineering with deliberate precision.So I did something I once swore I never would.I contacted a man who operated where law dissolved.The message was simple.No greeting.No explanation.Just a request for a heart on the black market.He replied within the hour.No surprise. Men like him did not sleep. They existed in the margins of consequence.We did not speak. Voices cr

Aria POV“Well… I’ve been meaning to tell you something else.”His voice shifted again. Hesitant. Careful.“I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. I hope you’re seated properly.”A strange unease crawled through me.“Yes,” I said slowly. “What’s up?”A long pause.Then“Aria… I have a heart condition that leaves me with three months to live. Well… three months minus ten days.”Everything inside me stopped.The room disappeared.The chessboard. The apartment. The world.Gone.All I heard was the echo of his words.Three months.My fingers went numb.“My doctor says there’s a trial medication that might work,” he continued quietly. “But it isn’t ready yet.”I stared at nothing.Wow.That was all my mind could produce.Just one word.Wow.A wave of cold swept through me.My baby’s father was going to die.The only man who had ever made me feel completely seen… was leaving.That possibility had never existed in my mind. Not even remotely. I had imagined anger, distance, betrayal, sepa

Alex POVFor several minutes, I remained seated behind my desk, the phone still in my hand, her words replaying in quiet loops inside my head.Give it to a child.Simple.Clear.Decisive.The kind of clarity I had built an empire upon.Except this time, it had not come from strategy.It had come from her.I did not allow myself time to reconsider.Hesitation breeds weakness.I opened the encrypted channel.The interface flickered to life, cold blue light reflecting against the glass of my office windows.A new message.Payment confirmed. Shipment arrives tomorrow.My fingers hovered over the keyboard.Then I typed.Change of instruction.A pause.Three dots appeared.Explain.I leaned back slightly, the faint pressure in my chest reminding me that time was still a negotiation.Then I wrote:Take the organ to a hospital. Deliver it to the most critical child or teenager on the transplant list.A longer pause this time.I continued.Consider it a philanthropic donation. Anonymous. No tr