บททั้งหมดของ THE BILLIONAIRE'S UNWANTED WIFE: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

EMELYThree weeks slipped by without me noticing. My days were a blur of meetings, script revisions, and discussions that always stretched past working hours. Ever since this adaptation project began, I’d been spending more time with Steven than with anyone else.This morning, we sat across from each other in the production room. Our table was buried under highlighters and colorful sticky notes marking important scenes. Steven stared at his laptop, tapping the desk with a steady rhythm. It was so typically him.“I think this scene moves too fast,” he said, pointing at a section. “Especially the mother’s dialogue.”I nodded. “Yeah. It feels rushed. Maybe we need to add a pause.”He lowered his laptop and looked at me with full attention. “You look tired.”“I’m fine.”The answer came out so fast I almost laughed at myself.Steven folded his arms. “Emely, you almost fell asleep while I was explaining things.”I swallowed. “I just haven’t slept much.”“For three weeks? Are you sure that’s

STEVENIt was well past midnight, but this hotel room felt far too small to calm me down.I should’ve been asleep. Tomorrow I had a meeting with the production team, revisions on the storyboard, then a follow-up discussion with Astra.But my mind… stayed behind in the lobby a few hours ago. When Emely stepped into a taxi with that pale face and unsteady walk.I pressed my temples, trying to push the image away. It didn’t make sense. She said she was going home. She didn’t look okay. And I couldn’t do anything about it.After an hour of tossing and turning, I gave up. I sat at the desk, opened my laptop, and tried reading the script I was supposed to revise.One paragraph. I read it three times. Nothing stuck. I scrolled to the next page. Lines and lines of text, but none of it registered.“Damn it,” I muttered.Not because of the script. Because I couldn’t focus after seeing Emely’s face… so different.Numb. Exhausted. Almost empty.Something was wrong. And I was an idiot for letting

EMELYThe room felt smaller than it was. I stared at my phone, now dark and silent. Alexander hadn’t replied. The quiet pressed against my chest, making my body tremble. Tears fell, unstoppable, while my other hand unconsciously caressed my still-flat stomach.Oh God… this is really happening, I whispered, my voice breaking. My baby, a life I hadn’t known yet, was here. And Alexander… Alexander. I was lost in a tangle of fear, anger, and confusion.Every thought of our marriage, the family’s expectations, and the fact that I was carrying Alexander’s child made my chest tighten. I lowered my gaze, took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but every inhale seemed to raise more questions than answers.My hand stayed on my stomach, feeling the warmth of my own skin, unable to soothe my heart. My sobs softened into tiny, almost inaudible hiccups. I cursed my fate, trapped between love, duty, and uncertainty.I stood, exhausted, but I had to shower. The warm water ran over my skin, but not

EMELYAfter dinner that evening, I walked Papa and Mama out to the front terrace.The night air felt colder than usual. The garden lights glowed softly, casting our shadows across the spotless marble floor. Mama still held my arm tightly, as if she were afraid I might disappear the moment she let go.“Take good care of yourself, Em,” she said gently. Her hand slid down, resting over my stomach in a slow, careful motion. “You’re not alone anymore.”I smiled. “I will, Ma,” I answered softly.Papa stood beside her. His face looked far lighter than it had earlier that afternoon. The tension lines on his forehead were gone, replaced by an expression of pride I rarely saw directed at me.“I never expected this,” he said with a small chuckle. “Two at once.”He shook his head, still sounding amazed. “God really does have His own way.”I lowered my gaze. His words felt like both praise and punishment. Two grandchildren. Two blessings. And one lie I could never take back.Mama hugged me again,

EMELYI sat on the edge of the bed in my private room, my phone still glowing in my hand. Steven’s message was simple, yet for some reason it felt unbearably heavy to answer.Steven: [Are you okay, Emely?]I read it again. And again. My thumb hovered over the keyboard, typing sentences only to delete them moments later. I wanted to tell him everything. About the slap that still burned on my left cheek. About my husband standing in silence while his mother humiliated me. About the DNA test meant only for me, as if I were the sole liar in this house. About the child growing inside me, a life that should have been hope, now reduced to an accusation.But I typed none of it.In the end, my fingers moved on their own, forming the safest answer possible.Emely: [I’m fine. Thank you for asking.]I stared at the words for a few seconds, then hit send before I could change my mind. Less than a minute later, a reply appeared.Steven: [Are you sure?]A small smile tugged at my lips. He had always