Lahat ng Kabanata ng Pregnant For My Ex-Husband’s Billionaire Best Friend: Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

Sabrina’s POV.The last three days had been a nightmare of polite suffocation.Since the disaster at the seafood restaurant, the dynamic in the house had shifted into something unrecognizable. Cole didn't fight with me anymore. He didn't argue. Instead, he treated me with a terrifying, gentle caution—like I was made of glass that had already begun to crack.He watched me when I poured coffee. He double-checked that I had locked the doors. He asked me, three times a day, "How are you feeling, really? Are you sure you won’t give the psychiatrist a chance?” with a look of deep, furrowed concern.He thought I was losing my mind.I knew exactly who had planted that seed.I tried to act normal. I tried to be the perfect wife and mother to prove him wrong. But it was hard to stay calm when Elise was constantly hovering, offering to help with a smile that didn't reach her predatory eyes.It was Tuesday afternoon. Cole was at the office, but he had called twice already to check in.I was in my

Cole’s POV.The taste of peppermint was still on my tongue, but it tasted like ash.I stood in the entryway, the manila envelope shaking in my hands. I read the letter from the Swiss attorney again. And again....harassment of Neo Vanhoven... faked pregnancy... restraining order...I looked at the medical report. Clean bill of health.I felt like the floor had dropped out from under me. For days now, I had treated Sabrina like she was hysterical. I had canceled the investigation. I had defended Elise, held her when she fainted, and scolded my wife for not being compassionate enough.I looked up at Sabrina.She was standing by the stairs, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn't gloating. She looked exhausted. She looked like a woman who had been screaming for help in a soundproof room for a month."Brie," I choked out. The name felt heavy in my throat."Do you believe me now?" she asked softly."I..." I dropped the papers on the table next to the bottle of breath mints. "God, Sabri

Sabrina’s POV. The silence in the villa was no longer heavy. It was light. It was clean. For the first time in weeks, the air didn't smell like cloying floral perfume or deception. It smelled like rain and night-blooming jasmine—my scent. The intrusive, medicinal tang of Elise’s presence had been scrubbed away by the sheer force of the truth. I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Cole lock the balcony doors. He checked the handle twice. Then he checked the window latch. He was still running on adrenaline, his protector instincts in overdrive even though the threat was currently sitting in a holding cell downtown. I could see the tension in his back, the way his muscles bunched under his shirt. He was a man trying to physically bar the door against a ghost he had accidentally invited in. "She’s gone, Cole," I said softly, standing up and walking over to him. I placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the vibration of his heavy breathing. "The police took her. Vance contacted the lawye

Cole’s POV.The speedometer on the dashboard hit ninety as I wove the SUV through the thinning late-night traffic of the highway.Beside me, Sabrina sat rigid in the passenger seat. She wasn't crying anymore. She had moved past tears into a state of cold, predatory focus. Her hands were clenched in her lap, her knuckles white, her eyes scanning the dark road ahead as if she could will our son into existence by sheer force of staring."Vance," I barked into the speakerphone, my voice tight. "Update."The line crackled with the sound of furious typing. "I’ve got the Toyota’s signal, sir. It’s stationary.""Stationary?" My heart hammered against my ribs. "Where?""An industrial park off Exit 42," Vance replied. "Near the old textile district. It hasn't moved in ten minutes. Cole... if she’s stopped, she might be ditching the car.""Send me the coordinates," I ordered. "Now."I hung up and swerved across three lanes, cutting off a semi-truck that blasted its horn in protest. I didn't care

Sabrina’s POV.The Blackwood Shipping Yards looked less like a business and more like a carcass left to rot by the ocean.Cole killed the headlights of the SUV a quarter-mile down the access road, letting the vehicle roll to a silent stop on the gravel shoulder. We sat there for a moment, staring through the windshield.The moon had finally broken through the clouds, casting a sickly, silver light over the landscape. It was a sprawling maze of rusted shipping containers stacked three high, looming cranes that looked like skeletal dinosaurs, and warehouses with shattered windows that gaped like missing teeth.It was silent. Not the peaceful silence of the suburbs, but the heavy, waiting silence of a graveyard."She’s here," Cole whispered, his voice tight. "I can feel it."I looked at him. His jaw was set so hard I thought his teeth might crack. He checked the clip in his gun one last time, the metallic click sounding terrifyingly loud in the confined space."The van," I pointed.About