บททั้งหมดของ Priced By My Billionaire Nemesis: บทที่ 171 - บทที่ 180

Adrian let out a short breath that might have been a laugh if he had any energy left for it, but it broke halfway through. His eyes stayed on our son as if even humor felt dangerous, as if joy might tempt the universe to take something back.“He’s right,” I murmured.Adrian glanced down at our son, then back at me. Something settled behind his eyes, a decision forming. A softness sharpened into purpose.“We can’t keep calling him the baby,” he said softly.The small sound Eli made in the corridor was pure relief, like he was glad someone else had named the obvious truth out loud. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, then retreated again, leaving the naming of our child where it belonged.I watched Adrian for a long moment. He still looked like he did not believe he deserved to sit this close to us. Like he was waiting for the universe to correct itself and take the peace back, and he did not trust his hands not to ruin it if he touched too much.“We should name him,” I said softly.The words su

They admitted us immediately.Not urgently. Not with panic. But with the kind of quiet seriousness that makes everything feel heavier.The pediatrician on call took our son first. She introduced herself in a calm, practiced voice, as if babies born in moving vehicles during storms were simply another line item on her shift. She did not rush. She did not dramatize. She wrapped him more securely in the hospital blanket, adjusted the knit cap on his head to reduce heat loss, and checked his color, his tone, the small flex of his fingers.“I’m just going to examine him properly,” she said. “It won’t take long.”I nodded, but my arms tightened anyway. My body had not yet accepted that he existed outside of me. The moment she lifted him from my chest, something primal inside me reacted. It was not logical. It was not composed. It was instinct.She carried him to the warming station across the room. A nurse adjusted the overhead radiant heater, bathing his small body in controlled warmth. Th

Nathaniel’s mouth searched again, impatient now, small sounds of frustration vibrating against my skin. The nurse adjusted him with gentle precision, guiding his head until instinct took over. His mouth opened wide. He latched.The pull was stronger this time. Deep. Certain. It startled me, not with pain but with force. My body reacted immediately, tightening low in my abdomen, a dull internal squeeze that made me inhale sharply.“There,” the nurse murmured softly. “That’s better.”Adrian stood close enough that I could feel the warmth of him without touching. He was watching us, but not like before. Not like a man witnessing something fragile.Like a man studying something he would defend with violence if necessary.Nathaniel settled into rhythm. Slow, determined pulls. His small hand rested against the curve of my breast, fingers flexing occasionally as if testing reality.The nurse stepped back once she was satisfied.The room felt quiet again.Adrian’s gaze lifted from our son to

By the time Adrian left the police station the city had settled into the steady rhythm of late morning. Traffic moved in continuous lines along the main avenues, delivery trucks stood backed into narrow loading bays, and pedestrians crossed intersections with the distracted urgency of ordinary routines. The world around him carried on without pause, as if nothing unusual had occurred, and that quiet indifference suited him. What mattered now was preparation.Adrian stepped into the waiting car that had been called through his assistant and closed the door behind him. It was an ordinary sedan, clean but impersonal, the interior carrying the faint scent of synthetic upholstery and air freshener. He gave the driver the next destination and then settled back into the seat, already moving ahead in his thoughts.After a moment he took out his phone and scrolled to the number he had saved earlier that morning. The physician who had examined Lena after the birth had written it down on a small

When Lena woke again the light in the room had changed.The warm glow of afternoon had deepened into the softer tones of early evening, the brightness gentled by the drawn curtains so that the suite felt quiet and enclosed, removed from the steady movement of the city beyond the windows. For a few moments she lay still, listening to the silence and allowing awareness to return slowly.The first thing she did was turn her head toward the bassinet.Nathaniel slept there exactly as she had last seen him, wrapped in the thin hospital blanket with one small arm bent upward near his face. His breathing came in the uneven rhythm that was already becoming familiar to her, each rise and fall of his chest steady enough to quiet the instinctive flicker of worry that rose every time she woke.Only after she had watched him for several seconds did she allow herself to look farther into the room.Adrian lay asleep on the sofa.One arm was folded beneath his head at an awkward angle, as if he had me