บททั้งหมดของ ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TO MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS: บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

Ariana’s POV The hospital smelled like antiseptic and early mornings. I checked in quietly, keeping my voice low, my head down. I wore a loose sweater and a coat I didn’t need, one hand resting casually over my stomach like it always did now. The bulge was there if you looked for it. I made sure no one did.I told myself to breathe. This was routine. In and out. No drama.I sat in the waiting area and stared at a muted television I wasn’t really watching. My phone buzzed once. A message from Alex.Text me when you’re done.I smiled despite myself and typed back a simple Okay.The nurse called my name. I stood slowly, steadying myself before following her down the hall. The appointment was brief. Blood pressure. Questions. A calm voice telling me everything looked fine. The words settled something tight in my chest.Healthy.That was all I needed to hear.When I stepped back into the main corridor, I adjusted my sweater again, squared my shoulders, and headed toward the exit. I was

Ariana’s POV The first time I felt it, I told myself I was imagining things.It was a warm afternoon, the kind that made the city feel deceptively gentle, sunlight pooling on sidewalks, traffic humming like background noise. I had left the clinic ten minutes earlier than usual, my appointment running shorter than expected, my nerves still tight beneath my ribs.I was halfway down the block when the feeling crept in.That awareness you get when someone’s eyes linger too long. When footsteps fall into rhythm behind you without ever quite catching up.I slowed and so did the footsteps.I didn’t turn around immediately. I’d learned a long time ago that panicking made things like this worse.Instead, I stopped at a street vendor and pretended to check my phone, heart ticking faster than I wanted it to.In the reflection of the vendor’s glass display, I caught a glimpse of him.He was average height, with a baseball cap pulled low, sunglasses on his face, and a black and black fit designe

Alex’s POVThe office felt too quiet that morning.The kind of quiet that came before damage control meetings and harsh phone calls, before the world decided to test how much pressure one man could take before something cracked. I stood by the windows of my corner office, the city view stretched beneath me from the glass, and I tried to focus on the parts of my life that were still predictable.Well, that didn’t help.Ariana’s face stayed on my mind, the way her fingers had curled around mine outside the hospital, the calmness she had forced onto herself even when the ground had shifted beneath her feet. We were supposed to be in Japan in two weeks. A secret that now required an ocean to protect it.I turned away from the window as my assistant knocked.“Come in.”Evelyn stepped inside with her tablet hugged to her chest, already reading my expression. She had worked for me long enough to recognise when I wasn’t here for pleasantries.“I need you to clear my schedule,” I said before

Ariana’s POV The flight to Tokyo felt unreal from the moment we boarded.I sat by the window, my forehead pressed lightly to the glass as the plane moved down the runway. The engines roared, the ground blurred out, and then suddenly we were lifting—rising above the city, the noise and everything that had been pressing down on my chest for months.I didn’t cry. I thought I might, but instead, I felt something loosen inside me. Like a knot finally giving way.Alex sat beside me, calm and composed as always, his arm resting on the armrest between us, it was not touching, but close enough that I felt his presence. He had insisted on using his private jet, brushed off my protests, and handled every detail with the kind of authority that made it clear this trip wasn’t just about crossing hours to the other side of the world. It was about safety and protecting me in the only way he knew how.“You okay?” he asked as the seatbelt sign dinged off.I nodded. “Just…taking it in.”He studied m

Alex’s POVThe bar hadn’t changed in years, and that was exactly why I kept coming back.The same low lighting and leather booths. Same bartender who knew my drink before I asked. It was the one place where my life didn’t feel like a performance or a negotiation. No board members, press and expectations beyond paying the tab.Ethan was already there when I arrived , seated at our usual corner spot, jacket slung over the back of the booth. He looked up when he saw me, eyebrows lifting slightly.“You’re late,” he said.“I know,” I replied, sliding in across from him. “Long day.”He studied me for a second longer than necessary. “You look… different.”I exhaled and signaled the bartender. “Whiskey. Neat.”Ethan ordered the same, then leaned back. “That doesn’t answer my question.”I didn’t answer right away either. I watched the bartender pour, listened to the muted hum of conversations around us, the clink of glass against wood. This place had heard more of my secrets than anyone els