All Chapters of Pregnant With My Twin Sister’s Fiancé’s Baby: Chapter 261 - Chapter 270

The private island villa, usually a sanctuary of teak and silk, had been transformed into a remote command center.Noah sat at the dining table, his laptop open, a satellite phone pressed to his ear. Outside, the ocean churned, grey and restless, mirroring the mood inside.Aria stood behind him, her hand resting on his shoulder. Her touch was light, but grounding—a reminder that while they were fighting a war, they were fighting it from the same side of the trench."Serve her," Noah said into the phone. His voice was clipped, devoid of the hesitation that used to plague him when dealing with family. "Electronic service is valid in New York if evasion is suspected. Use the email address she used to contact Julian."He listened for a moment, then nodded."And draft a cease and desist for Sarah—Elena—Blackwood. Specifics on custodial interference and conspiracy to violate a restraining order. Make it heavy."He hung up."Heavy," Aria repeated. "That sounds expensive.""Safety is expensiv

The office of the Manhattan Family Services Department smelled of lemon pledge and stale anxiety.Aria sat in a chair that was bolted to the floor, her hands resting on the sticky laminate of the conference table. Noah sat beside her, his suit impeccable, his posture rigid.Across the table sat Mrs. Greene. She was a woman of indeterminate age with reading glasses on a chain and a file folder that looked thick enough to stop a bullet."So," Mrs. Greene said, opening the file. "The West family."She said it with a tone that suggested she had read the tabloids. All of them."We want to adopt," Noah said. His voice was steady, the voice of a CEO pitching a merger. "We have the resources. We have the space. We have the desire to provide a stable, loving home for a child in need.""Stability," Mrs. Greene repeated. She looked over her glasses. "That's a key word in our assessment, Mr. West."She pulled a sheet of paper from the file."According to our preliminary background check," Mrs. Gr

The front door of the penthouse opened, admitting Mrs. Greene and a small boy carrying a black trash bag.He stopped just across the threshold. He didn't look at the sweeping staircase or the floor-to-ceiling windows. He looked at his shoes—scuffed, velcro sneakers that were a size too big."Theo," Mrs. Greene said, her voice softer than Aria had ever heard it. "This is Mr. and Mrs. West."Theo didn't look up. He clutched the trash bag tighter. It was half-full, the plastic stretched thin over the shapes of what looked like a few clothes and a single, hard object—maybe a book.Noah knelt down. He was wearing jeans and a soft sweater, trying to look approachable, but he was a big man. Even kneeling, he loomed."Hi, Theo," Noah said. "I'm Noah. And this is Aria."Theo flinched at the sound of his name. He took a small step back, bumping into Mrs. Greene's leg."He's tired," Mrs. Greene said apologetically. "It was a long drive.""Of course," Aria said. She stayed in her wheelchair, keep

The family court waiting room was painted a cheerful, buttery yellow, but it smelled of anxiety and cheap disinfectant.Aria sat on a vinyl bench, Theo sandwiched between her and Noah. He was wearing a small suit that Noah had bought him for the occasion—navy blue, with a clip-on tie that Theo kept touching, as if checking to make sure it was still there."You look handsome," Aria whispered, smoothing his lapel."It itches," Theo whispered back. But he didn't take it off. He sat with his hands folded in his lap, mimicking Noah’s posture perfectly.Across the room sat Sarah.She wasn't the disheveled, desperate woman Aria had expected. She was clean. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. She wore a simple dress and a cardigan. She looked... hopeful.She looked at Theo with a hunger that made Aria’s stomach turn. Not a predatory hunger, but a starving one. The look of a mother who had lost everything and was clawing her way back."She looks healthy," Noah murmured, his voice tigh

The visitation center was designed to look cheerful, but it felt like a waiting room for disappointment. The walls were painted a bright, primary-color yellow that clashed with the beige linoleum. Toys were scattered on a low table, clearly sanitized within an inch of their plastic lives.Aria sat on a folding chair, her hands clasped in her lap. Next to her, Noah was vibrating with tension, his leg bouncing a restless rhythm."She's five minutes late," Noah muttered, checking his watch. "If she's late, we document it. It goes in the log.""Traffic," Aria said softly. "Give her a minute.""You're defending her?" Noah looked at her, incredulous. "She's trying to take our son.""I'm trying to survive the next hour," Aria corrected. "If we go in looking for a fight, Theo will feel it. And he's already scared enough."She looked at Theo. He was standing by the window, staring out at the parking lot. He was wearing his favorite dinosaur t-shirt, the one Noah had bought him the day the adop