Under the Mistletoe with my Ex's Brother のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 171 - チャプター 180

Damian's PovThe conference room at Patricia's law office felt too small for the number of people crammed into it.I sat at one end of the long table with Eleanor beside me, which still felt surreal enough that I hadn't quite processed it. My mother who'd been dead for fifteen years was sitting next to me at a meeting about whether I'd fathered a child with the woman who'd kidnapped my stepson. If someone had told me six months ago this would be my life, I would have laughed.Patricia sat across from us reviewing her notes, and next to her was the prosecutor handling Victoria's case, a sharp-eyed woman named Jennifer Park who looked like she hadn't slept in days. Victoria's defense attorney, a tired-looking public defender named Robert Hayes, sat at the other end looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.And then there was Scarlet.She'd arrived ten minutes ago and taken a seat as far from me as possible while still being in the same room, which felt like a metaphor for our entire ma

Lucas's POVI was halfway through my second bottle of wine when Marcus called with the news about the paternity test."It's not his," he said without preamble. "Zero percent probability. Victoria's been lying the whole time."I should have seen it coming, should have known Victoria's scheme was too obvious to work, but hearing it confirmed still felt like a punch to the gut. I'd been counting on that pregnancy claim to destroy Damian's marriage, counting on months more of doubt eating away at Scarlet's trust until there was nothing left to salvage."What about Victoria? Is she giving up the real father?""She's refusing to name him. It doesn't matter though. The prosecutor is adding fraud charges and Damian's walking away from this looking like the innocent victim."Of course he was. Perfect Damian who never did anything wrong, who everyone rallied around and defended while I got thrown to the wolves for one mistake with Jace.I hung up and threw my phone across the room where it hit

Scarlet's POVThe cramps had been coming and going all morning like contractions, which was ridiculous because I wasn't pregnant, but the rhythm of them was unmistakable. Tighten, release, tighten, release. Each one a little stronger than the last.I'd taken three ibuprofen before leaving the hotel and told myself it was just stress manifesting physically, that my body was still processing the emotional aftermath of the paternity test results and the guilt of knowing I'd doubted Damian for nothing. Stress could do strange things to you. Make your stomach hurt. Make you nauseous. Make you feel like your insides were being squeezed by an invisible fist.Eleanor had texted that morning asking to meet for coffee, said we needed to discuss next steps now that Damian had been cleared. I almost said no because the idea of getting dressed and leaving the hotel felt overwhelming, but Jace was with his therapist for his weekly session and sitting alone in that room thinking about how badly I'd

Damian's POVEleanor had called me while I was in a meeting with my board, her voice sharp with urgency in a way that made my blood run cold before she even got the words out."Scarlet collapsed. We're in an ambulance heading to City Hospital. You need to get here now."I'd left the meeting without explanation, grabbed my keys, and driven like a madman through midday traffic with my heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. The whole way there I kept thinking about the last time I'd gotten a call about Scarlet being rushed to the hospital, after the car accident that had taken our baby, and I couldn't breathe past the fear that I was about to lose her too.By the time I burst through the emergency room doors, a nurse was already waiting to intercept me because apparently Eleanor had given them a heads up that a frantic husband would be arriving shortly. The nurse led me through a maze of corridors to an exam room where I could see Scarlet through the window, lying on a bed

Scarlet's POVThe medication burned going into my veins, a cold fire that spread from my IV site up through my arm and into my chest, and I tried to focus on that sensation instead of the cramping that wouldn't stop no matter how many drugs they pumped into me.Dr. Kim was standing at the foot of my bed watching the monitors with an expression I'd learned to read over the years working alongside her at this hospital. She was worried but trying not to show it, which meant things were worse than she was letting on."The magnesium sulfate should be working by now," she said, more to herself than to me. "We're at therapeutic levels but the contractions are still coming every eight minutes."I could feel them, these rhythmic tightenings that started low in my pelvis and radiated outward like waves. Each one felt like my body was trying to expel something it had decided it no longer wanted to carry, and I wanted to scream at it to stop, to understand that those two tiny beings it was trying