Alle Kapitel von Oops.. I Fell for My Ex Again: Kapitel 11 – Kapitel 20

Three days later, Alex woke to chaos.Her phone vibrated violently against the nightstand.Buzz.Buzz.Buzz.She frowned, half-asleep.Then she saw the screen.12 missed calls.31 text messages.18 news alerts.Maya.Marcus.Patricia.Unknown numbers.Her stomach dropped before she opened anything.Dominic shifted beside her. “What’s wrong?”“I don’t know.”She tapped the first alert.WolfeTech Founder Steps Down Amid Severe Pregnancy Complications — Sources Cite Cardiac InstabilityHer throat went dry.“No,” she whispered.She opened the article.The first paragraph hit like a physical blow.According to anonymous sources close to the situation, Alexandra Wolfe’s resignation follows alarming medical findings, including elevated troponin levels and complications related to congenital long QT syndrome.Her hand tightened around the phone.“They quoted my QT interval,” she said hoarsely. “My last troponin markers.”Dominic leaned over her shoulder.The article continued.Doctors are rep

Three days into bed rest, Alex woke up in a prison.The laptop was gone from her nightstand.The charging cord for her phone had disappeared.In their place: a glass of water, prenatal vitamins arranged in a ceramic dish, and her heart monitor resting neatly beside the bed like a silent guard.Compliance tools.She stared at the ceiling.Three days.Seventy-two hours.She’d negotiated billion-dollar acquisitions in less time.Now she couldn’t sit up without recalculating her center of gravity.She tried anyway.The dizziness hit instantly. The ceiling tilted. Her stomach dropped.She fell back against the pillow.Her pulse monitor vibrated.81 bpm.Climbing.The bedroom door opened.“Where are you going?” Dominic asked.“Bathroom.”He crossed the room without argument and offered his arm.She hated that she needed it.Her legs trembled after ten steps.Ten.By the time she made it back to bed, her breathing felt thin and unsatisfying.Breakfast waited on the tray.Scrambled eggs. Toas

The FBI arrived at 10:03 a.m.Two agents. Conservative suits. Calm expressions.“Ms. Wolfe,” Agent Rodriguez said, flashing his badge. “This is voluntary questioning.”Alex was propped against pillows, heart monitor resting against her wrist like a silent judge. Dominic stood near the window. Patricia Chen sat at the edge of the bed, legal pad ready.“Let’s begin,” Alex said evenly.Rodriguez opened a folder. “We’re investigating allegations of securities fraud tied to insider trading preceding your medical disclosure.”Agent Chen stepped forward and slid documents across the duvet.A trading confirmation.A. Wolfe Holdings.50,000 shares purchased seventy-two hours before the leak.Authorization signature: Alexandra Wolfe.Her signature.Her pulse ticked up.“I made no such purchase,” Alex said.Chen’s eyebrow lifted slightly. “Convenient.”Patricia cut in smoothly. “My client has been on documented medical bed rest. Hospital records. Security footage. Staff logs. She hasn’t left thi

Two weeks passed without another contraction. On paper, it looked like progress.Sarah came three times a week. Blood pressure acceptable. Resting heart rate holding between ninety-six and one hundred. Intermittent arrhythmia, but contained. The baby thriving: four pounds, eight ounces at the last scan. Strong heartbeat. Active movement.Each visit ended the same way.“You’re holding,” Sarah would say.Holding.Not improving.At thirty-three weeks, four weeks from relative safety, Alex measured time in heartbeats and calendar squares. She slept in ninety-minute fragments. Dreamed of Julian standing on the sidewalk. Woke and checked the cameras. Empty every time.Worse than if he’d been there.The call came at 10:12 a.m.Marcus.“She made bail.”Alex sat up too quickly. The room tilted.“When?”“She’s being released in two hours.”Her chest tightened. Breath shallow. Her hand moved to her stomach automatically. The baby kicked—hard, reactive.Heart rate: 102.Dominic was already reachi

Two weeks after delivery, Alexandra Wolfe could stand for nine minutes before her vision blurred.At ten, Dominic made her sit.The C-section incision was healing cleanly. The steri-strips were gone. The scar remained angry and tight. Her heart, however, was slower to forgive.Dr. James Park conducted the follow-up in their bedroom, stethoscope cold against her chest.“Your ejection fraction dropped during delivery,” he said. “Forty-five percent. Normal is fifty-five to seventy. You’re stable. But weakened.”“How long?” Alex asked.“Six to eight weeks minimum before we reassess. No exertion. No stress.”They both understood the impossibility of the last instruction.Catherine slept in the bassinet beside the bed. Two weeks old. Five pounds, eleven ounces. Feeding every three hours. Strong latch. Strong cry.Alex still slept in ninety-minute fragments.But this time she woke because her daughter needed her.Not because she feared someone would kill her.Dominic barely left the room. He