Semua Bab THE BILLIONAIRE'S OBSESSION: From player to Father : Bab 31 - Bab 40

CHAPTER 31: London in spring couldn't make up its mind. One day you'd get cherry blossoms bursting like pink fireworks against an impossibly blue sky, and the next, hail would beat down on those new leaves like the city was punishing them for being optimistic. Keira got it, her insides felt just as all over the place.Seven months since she'd moved her books onto Marcus's shelves. The flat didn't feel like it was his anymore, with her stuff scattered around. It was theirs. They'd settled into something that worked: her plants took over the sunny windowsill, Emma's drawings covered the fridge, and Marcus's work papers lived alongside Keira's dissertation notes on the dining table. Their days had a rhythm to them now, comfortable and familiar.But something new had crept in, throwing everything off balance.The nausea.It started small, her stomach would turn when Marcus made his morning coffee, and suddenly she couldn't stand eggs even th

CHAPTER 33: The baby moved.It wasn't some poetic quickening like the books described, no delicate butterfly flutter nonsense. It was a distinct, undeniable thump, low in Keira's belly, like a tiny, impatient fist had knocked on the door from the inside.She was in the university library, hunched over a draft of her third dissertation chapter. The words were finally coming, fueled by this new, fierce clarity. Her argument, that modern domestic novels weren't about escape, but about the radical, messy architecture of chosen family, was taking shape with a power that surprised her. She was writing from her bones now, from the marrow of her own life.And then, *thump*.She froze, pen hovering over the page. She held her breath, waiting. Was it gas? Last night's pasta haunting her? But no, there it was again, softer this time, a rolling sensation, a slow somersault in the warm, dark sea inside her.A slow, disbelieving smile spread

CHAPTER 35: London in August was a slow, sticky fever dream. The city's usual frantic pace slowed to a crawl. The air hung thick and heavy between the buildings, smelling of hot asphalt, car exhaust, and the sweet, cloying smell of overripe fruit from street vendors. Keira moved through it like she was underwater, her body a vessel of strange and demanding weight. Thirty weeks. The finish line was visible, shimmering on the horizon, but the distance still felt endless.Her body wasn't hers anymore. It had been taken over by a tiny, bossy colonist. Her ribs ached from the constant upward pressure. Her feet, once normal and capable, had swollen into foreign objects that required careful, deliberate placement with each step. The baby, Keira Grace, was a constant, vigorous presence, her movements no longer flutters or thumps but full-bodied rolls and stretches that mapped her confinement, an elbow or a heel sliding dramatically beneath the tight skin of Keira's belly,

CHAPTER 37: The air in the flat had changed. It was no longer the light, anticipatory space of mid-pregnancy, or the strained, anxious container of recent conflicts. It had become thick and still, holding its breath. Time, which had dragged through the swollen heat of August, now seemed to slip through Keira's fingers like water. Each day was a paradox: an eternity of minor discomforts compressed into a blink that brought her terrifyingly closer to the edge.Thirty-six weeks. The baby was now considered early term. Viable, fully formed, just fattening up. This new medical classification made it all feel unnervingly close. The guest, long announced, was now standing in the hallway, suitcase in hand, and there was no putting off her arrival.Keira's body had become a foreign country, its geography strange and its laws unpredictable. Her belly was a vast, tight dome that seemed to start directly under her breasts. The skin, stretched to a shiny, see-through

CHAPTER 39: The world had shrunk to the size of a hospital room. A small, pale space with beige walls, a single window showing a slice of dark night sky, a tangle of medical equipment now silent and still, and a plastic bassinet on wheels where the most important person in the universe lay sleeping, wrapped in a white hospital blanket and a pink knitted hat.Keira couldn't stop looking at her.Her arms ached from holding her, but she couldn't put her down. Every time the nurses suggested she rest, she'd nod, then immediately go back to staring. She traced the tiny features over and over. The dark hair, so much darker than either hers or Marcus's, slicked down against a perfectly round head. The tiny, bow-shaped mouth that had already latched on to nurse with shocking efficiency. The miniature fingers, curled into fists, each nail a perfect, see-through sliver. The way her nose, still slightly squashed from her journey, would wrinkle occasionally in her sl