All Chapters of Pregnant With My Twin Sister’s Fiancé’s Baby: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

The balcony of the West Penthouse was a windswept plateau of glass and steel, suspended fifty stories above the gridlock of Manhattan.Sienna stood at the railing, wrapped in a cashmere cardigan that belonged to Aria. It smelled of lavender laundry detergent—a scent so wholesome it made Sienna’s chest ache.Inside, through the floor-to-ceiling glass, she could see Noah and Aria in the living room. Noah was on the phone, pacing. Aria was in her wheelchair, reviewing a stack of invoices.They were fighting a war. And Sienna was on guard duty."Nice view," a voice said behind her.Sienna didn't jump. She turned slowly, resting her elbows on the cold railing.Marcus Cross stood in the doorway. He wasn't wearing his usual leather jacket. He wore a suit—charcoal, tailored, serious. He looked like the CFO of a billion-dollar company, not the guy who used to sneak her cheap wine at college parties."It’s windy," Sienna said. "You should have brought a coat.""I run hot," Marcus said. He walke

The silence in the kitchen was heavy, but it wasn't toxic. It was the silence of a battlefield after the artillery has stopped—stunned, bruised, but quiet.Aria sat in her wheelchair, her hand still resting on Emma’s small arm. Sienna stood on the other side of the high chair, her eyes red-rimmed."We need a pact," Aria said softly."What kind of pact?" Sienna asked, wiping her nose with the back of her hand."No fighting in front of the kids," Aria said. "Ever. If we have an issue, we take it to the balcony. Or the bathroom. Or a text message. But in here?" She looked around the kitchen, at the spilled milk and the toys scattered on the floor. "In here, we are a united front."Sienna looked down at Emma, who was warily eyeing the new carton of oat milk Noah had silently placed on the counter moments before stepping out to take a call."Agreed," Sienna whispered. "I don't want her to be scared of me.""She's not scared of you," Aria said. "She's scared of the noise. We were loud.""We

The elevator doors had closed on Vivian’s smile an hour ago, but the penthouse still felt violated.Noah stood in the foyer, phone pressed to his ear. He was talking to the head of building security, his voice a low, dangerous rumble."I don't care if she had a court order," Noah said. "If anyone—anyone—gets past the lobby without my personal authorization again, you're fired. And I'll make sure you never work in this city again."He hung up. He didn't look satisfied. He looked like a man who knew the walls had already been breached.Aria sat in her wheelchair by the console table. She was watching the security feed on her tablet. The lobby. The garage. The street."She knew the timing," Aria said. "She knew exactly how long it would take for the police to dispatch a unit for a violation of the restraining order. She was gone three minutes before the patrol car pulled up.""She's playing chess," Sienna said from the living room doorway. "And we're playing... I don't know. Whack-a-Mole

The morning light in the penthouse bedroom was grey and unforgiving. It filtered through the sheer curtains, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air, indifferent to the fact that the people in the room were being torn in half.Noah sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He was dressed in a suit—charcoal, perfectly tailored, his armor against the world. But his posture was defeated."I can't do it," Noah said. His voice was muffled by his palms. "I can't choose Julian over the baby. It feels... wrong."Aria sat propped up against the pillows. She wore a comfortable maternity dress, soft jersey fabric that accommodated the small bump and the constant ache in her back. Her hands were folded over her stomach, a protective shield."It feels wrong because you're a good father," Aria said softly. "But you have to be a CEO right now, Noah. You have to be the head of this family.""Being a father means showing up," Noah argued, lifting his head. His eyes were red-rimmed

The elevator doors slid open with a soft, hydraulic sigh that sounded deafening in the silent penthouse.Aria sat in her wheelchair by the foyer console, her hands gripping the armrests. Sienna stood behind her, a hand resting protectively on Aria’s shoulder.They were waiting for a war. Or a surrender.Noah stepped out first. He looked exhausted, his tie gone, his collar unbuttoned. But he wasn't alone. And he wasn't in handcuffs.He held the door open."Come in," Noah said to the shadow behind him.A man stepped into the light.Aria’s breath caught in her throat.It wasn't like looking in a mirror. It was like looking at a variation on a theme.Julian Blackwood was taller than Noah, leaner, with hair that was slightly lighter. But the architecture of his face was identical. The sharp, defined jawline. The high cheekbones. And the eyes—the dark, intelligent, haunted West eyes.They stood side by side in the foyer. Two men, built from the same blueprint, separated by three years and a