Todos los capítulos de Daddy's filthy little pet : Capítulo 281 - Capítulo 290

Rae’s POV I jolted awake in the dark. Heart racing, chest tight, sheets twisted around my legs like they’d tried to hold me down. The clock on the nightstand glowed 2:47 a.m. Moonlight sliced through the cracked balcony doors in thin silver blades, cutting across the bed and Killian’s bare shoulder beside me. He was still asleep—arm draped over my waist, fingers loose but warm against my stomach, breathing deep and even. I tried to stay quiet. I really did. Didn’t want to wake him again. Didn’t want to be the reason his eyes opened full of worry for the third time tonight. But the tears came anyway. Hot. Silent. Rolling down my temples into the pillow. I bit my lip hard—hard enough to taste copper—but small, choked sounds escaped anyway. My shoulders shook. I curled tighter into myself—knees to chest, arms wrapped around my shins—trying to muffle it, trying to make myself small enough that the pain couldn’t find me. Mom’s voice kept looping in my head—every word a fresh cut.

Rae’s POVI looked small. Scared. And somehow, underneath it all, there was this tiny, fragile spark of something else I couldn’t name yet.The timer beeped.I froze.For a long moment I just stood there, staring at the white plastic strip lying innocently on the counter. My breath came shallow. My fingers shook as I finally reached for it.Two clear pink lines stared back at me.Positive.I blinked. Once. Twice. The lines didn’t disappear.My knees buckled. I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the cool tiled floor, back against the cabinet, knees drawn tight to my chest. The test strip stayed clutched in my hand like a lifeline and a bomb at the same time.Two pink lines.A baby.Killian’s baby.The thoughts crashed over me in waves — too fast, too loud.Fear hit first, sharp and cold. How was I supposed to tell him? We were already hiding everything — the age gap, the family connection, my mother’s hatred now burning between us like a wall. A baby would make it all so much

Killian’s POVThe suite felt different tonight.Not in any way I could easily name — the lights were the same soft amber, the ocean hummed the same steady rhythm through the open balcony doors, the air still carried that faint mix of salt and her vanilla shampoo. But something was off with Rae. I’d felt it the moment I walked back from the meeting earlier, and it had only grown heavier as the day wore on.She was more emotional than usual. More needy in that quiet, little-baby way she sometimes slipped into when the world felt too heavy. She kept reaching for me — slipping her hand into mine, pressing her face into my chest, asking for forehead kisses with that small, trembling voice that always made my heart clench. I gave them willingly, of course. I would give her anything. But every time she pulled away too quickly or zoned out staring at the ocean, a knot tightened in my gut.I told myself it was still the aftermath of her mother’s call. Those cruel words had cut deep — I’d s

Rae’s POVMorning light filtered softly through the balcony doors, painting the suite in gentle golds and pinks. I woke slowly, the kind of waking that felt like surfacing from deep water — body heavy with sleep, mind still catching up to the reality of yesterday. My hand instinctively moved to my stomach, resting there lightly over the soft fabric of Killian’s hoodie I’d slept in. The test strip was tucked safely in the drawer now, but the two pink lines were burned into my memory.The smell of ginger and toast drifted from the kitchen area, warm and comforting. I heard quiet movement — the clink of a mug, the low hum of the kettle. Killian.I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and felt the familiar wave of nausea roll through me. Not violent, but persistent. I breathed through it, swinging my legs over the side of the bed just as he appeared in the doorway.He was already dressed in a simple white linen shirt and shorts, hair still slightly tousled from sleep. In one hand he carried a steam

Rae's POV Killian’s POVThe days after the appointment felt different — quieter on the surface, but charged underneath with a new kind of awareness. Every time I looked at Rae, I saw her differently. Not just as my girl, my little baby who needed me to hold her through the hard nights, but as the mother of our child. The knowledge sat warm and heavy in my chest, making me more attentive, more careful, more protective than I had ever been.I couldn’t help it. The instinct kicked in hard. And I know she loves being babied.That morning she woke up with a stronger wave of nausea. I was already up, making ginger tea exactly the way she liked it — no sugar, just a touch of honey when she could stomach it. When she padded into the kitchen area looking pale, I crossed to her immediately, wrapping one arm around her waist to steady her.“Easy, little one,” I murmured, guiding her to the nearest chair. “Sit. I’ve got the tea ready.”She gave me a small, tired smile but didn’t argue. I rubbe