Pregnant With My Twin Sister’s Fiancé’s Baby のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 181 - チャプター 190

The Amber Alert had been cancelled twenty minutes after it aired—a custody misunderstanding, the news anchor had said. A false alarm.But the adrenaline it spiked hadn't faded. It lingered in the hospital room like the smell of ozone after a lightning strike.Aria lay back against the pillows, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for her water. Sienna sat in the armchair, her legs tucked under her, scrolling through the security feeds from the penthouse on her iPad."She's sleeping," Sienna said softly, turning the screen so Aria could see the grainy, green-tinted image of Emma in her crib. "Look. She’s doing that thing with her foot."Emma was asleep on her back, one foot kicked out of the sleep sack, resting against the crib bars."She gets that from Noah," Aria smiled, the knot in her chest loosening. "He can't sleep unless one foot is cold.""And the hair," Sienna added. "That chaotic curl pattern? Definitely Stone.""Definitely," Aria agreed.The room was dim, lit only by t

The penthouse library, usually a sanctuary of dust motes and silence, had been transformed into a soundstage.Black cables snaked across the Persian rugs like venomous snakes. Three massive soft-box lights stood on tripods, banking the heat of a thousand suns against the leather-bound spines of Noah’s rare book collection.Aria sat in a high-backed velvet chair that had been positioned at a precise forty-five-degree angle to the main camera."Chin up, please," the makeup artist murmured. She held a sponge coated in heavy, opaque beige liquid. "Just need to blend the under-eye area. The high-def cameras pick up everything."Aria lifted her chin. She felt the cool dampness of the sponge dabbing away the evidence of her sleepless nights, her tears, and the exhaustion that lived in her marrow."You look beautiful," Sienna said from the shadows behind the lights. She was monitoring the camera feed on a portable screen, playing the role of producer with terrifying efficiency."I look like a

The internet didn't just react to Aria Stone’s interview. It convulsed.Within three hours, the clip of her looking into the camera—“I am fighting for my life. And I am not ashamed”—had been viewed twelve million times.Aria sat in the hospital bed, scrolling through the comments on Sienna’s iPad. Her hands were still trembling, but not from fear.“I had prenatal depression too. I thought I was the only one.” “The way she shut down that reporter? Queen behavior.” “I wish someone had told me it was okay to be scared. Thank you, Aria.”It wasn't the tidal wave of hate she had expected. It was a tsunami of solidarity. Women—mothers, daughters, survivors—were rallying around the image of the billionaire’s wife who had admitted she was drowning."You're trending," Sienna said from the armchair. She sounded awed. "#AriaSpeaks is the number one hashtag globally. Even higher than the new iPhone launch.""They don't hate me," Aria whispered."They love you," Sienna corrected. "Because for once

The television screen was vast, a sixty-inch window into the end of the world.On it, the document Vivian held up was being digitally magnified. The edges were jagged, pixelated by the zoom, but the typed text was legible.Certificate of Marriage. State of Nevada. County of Clark.Groom: Edward Vance.Bride: Vivian Stirling. Date: June 14, 1995."I was young," Vivian’s voice said from the speakers. It was soft, trembling with a rehearsed bravery. "I was foolish. Edward was... controlling. When I met Richard West, I saw an escape. He offered to take me away. He offered to give me a new life."The camera cut back to the studio. Vivian dabbed her eyes."But he didn't offer to pay for a divorce," Vivian whispered. "He said it was too risky. He said Edward would find us. So we... we just pretended. Richard signed a marriage license in New York in 1996, knowing full well it wasn't worth the paper it was printed on."Time in the penthouse seemed to liquefy. It moved slow and thick, like syru

The smell of stale coffee was the only thing keeping the room grounded in reality. Everything else—the piles of legal briefs, the half-eaten sandwiches, the blue glow of monitors—felt like the set of a disaster movie.Noah sat at the head of the dining table, which had been commandeered as a war room. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his sleeves rolled up. He looked exhausted, but the hollowness was gone from his eyes. Emma’s hug had filled the void, leaving behind a cold, sharp determination."Zoom in on the seal," Noah commanded.Steven, the head of NeXus legal, tapped a key on his laptop. The image on the large monitor—a screen grab from Vivian's interview—expanded. The marriage certificate from 1995 filled the screen."It's a Clark County seal," Steven said. "Nevada. It looks authentic.""It looks authentic because she paid for it to look authentic," Aria said. She was sitting in a wheelchair by the table—Noah refused to let her walk, but she refused to stay in the bedroom