All Chapters of Accidentally Pregnant with the Billionaire’s Baby: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Fifteen Years Ago Arabella was twelve years old when her father married Patricia Hart.Her mother had been dead for two years. And now her father had found someone new, with a daughter her own age."Arabella, this is Vanessa," her father had said, his hand on the shoulder of a girl with sharp eyes. "She's going to be your sister now. Isn't that wonderful?"Vanessa looked at her from head to toe, accessing her. "Hi," Vanessa said, without warmth."Hi," Arabella replied.That was just the beginning. Within six months, Arabella understood that Vanessa hated her. She didn't know why at first. She'd tried to be kind, shared her books, invited Vanessa into her room and tried to include her in everything. But Vanessa rebuffed every attempt with cold shoulders, hurtful comments and was cruel in a subtle way. "Your mother's dead," Vanessa said once, in the hallway outside their bedrooms. "Mine's alive and that makes me better.""That's mean," Arabella said, tears stinging.What Arabella did

"The United States calls Elias Thorne."Elias entered from the side door where witnesses waited. He looked nervous but determined. He'd been in witness protection for months, preparing for this moment. He was sworn in and he took the stand.Chen approached. "Mr. Thorne, can you tell the jury what you did three years ago?""I was a lab technician at Dr. Helena Cross's fertility clinic in Manhattan.""And on February fourteenth, three years ago, what did you witness?""I discovered that a genetic sample had been switched. The sample labeled as belonging to Everett Quinn was actually Adrian Whitmore's genetic material."Murmurs in the courtroom. Judge Morrison gaveled for silence."How did you discover this?""Each sample has a barcode with genetic markers. When I scanned the Quinn sample, the profile didn't match. It showed Whitmore instead.""What did you do?""I went to Dr. Cross and told her there was a problem. That's when I overheard a conversation in her office.""What did you hea

Chen stood. "Your Honor, the United States rests its case."Judge Morrison looked at the defense table. "Mr. Sterling, you may present your case."Sterling stood. "Your Honor, the defense calls no witnesses. We believe the prosecution has failed to meet its burden of proof. We rest."Murmurs throughout the courtroom. Claudia wasn't testifying. Sterling was betting on reasonable doubt."Very well," Judge Morrison said. "Closing arguments tomorrow morning. 9 AM."………………………."She's not testifying," Adrian said, staring at his untouched dinner when they got home. "Sterling's not putting her on the stand.""Because he knows Chen would destroy her," Arabella said. "It's a tactical decision.""Or because she has nothing to say that won't make it worse.""Tomorrow is closing arguments. Then jury deliberation. Then the verdict." Arabella took his hand. "It's almost over.""What if they acquit her?""They won't. The evidence is overwhelming.""Sterling's good. He planted doubt, unreliable witne

The penthouse was quiet when they arrived.For weeks, Arabella’s world had been all about the judge’s gavel, the aggressive shouting of reporters, and going in and out of courtroom. Now, standing in her own living room, the silence felt heavy, its almost suffocating.Adrian stood by the window, his suit jacket discarded on the sofa. He had loosened his tie, but he still looked like a man braced for a blow. He was staring out at the city, watching the sunset bleed red and orange as the day come to an end. What a day!"It’s strange, isn’t it?" Adrian said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We spent so much time fighting for this moment. I thought there would be music or at least the ability to breathe."Arabella walked over to him. She didn't say anything; she just slipped her hand into his. His fingers were ice-cold. "We’ve been in survival mode for three years, Adrian. You can’t just flip a switch and feel ‘normal’ again. The war is over, but the ground is still shaking."A soft chi

It started suddenly with nausea. It didn't feel like the flu or the exhaustion from the trial. It was a sudden rebellion of her body that sent Arabella stumbling toward the bathroom at four in the morning, her knees hitting the cold marble floor before she could even reach for the light.She sat there in the dark, shivering, her forehead pressed against the porcelain. Her heart was hammering against her ribs.Stress, she told herself, closing her eyes. It’s just the stress. The court dates, the nightmares, the move. My body is finally catching up to the trauma.She flushed the toilet and stood up on shaky legs, splashing cold water on her face. In the mirror, she looked like a ghost of the woman she had been. Her skin was sallow, her eyes shadowed. She looked pale.But as she reached for a towel, her gaze fell on the calendar on the back of the door. She froze.Her breath hitched. She counted the days, and counted again. She was ten days late."No," she whispered to the empty room. "I