All Chapters of Mistakenly Married To My Billionaire Roommate: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Diane’s POVThe ring on my finger still feels foreign. Three days. Three days since I became Mrs. Christian Ian Harrington, and the one secret that could change everything sits like a stone in my gut. I haven't told him about the pregnancy. How can I, when I don't know what the hell I'm going to do about it myself? What if he doesn't take it well?He'd offered me the world for a honeymoon. Any country, any destination. I'd declined. Why complicate an already impossible situation? As if carrying his child isn't complicated enough.And the sex… God, the sex. It’s like a drug, and I’m hopelessly addicted. Even now, alone in this room, I can’t stop thinking about him. The way his hands feel on my skin, possessive and sure, like they were made specifically for me. It’s a terrifying thought. I should be in control of my own body, my own pleasure. I shouldn't need a specific person to unravel me. Right?My hand moves to the bedside drawer, pulling out my new best friend. For whatever reason;

Diane’s POVI grab my bag and leave my office to meet the girls for lunch. It’s been a while since Jason’s new security detail started their work, and I haven't seen them since the wedding—which might not seem like long ago, but I miss them. I miss the normalcy they represent."I'm heading out for lunch, Elise." I manage a smile as I pass her desk.She nods "I found Mr. Vance's address. Hopefully, he hasn't moved out."My breath catches. This might be the answer to all the questions I have about the Miller case and RW "Thank you, Elise. Can you text it to me?""Right away."Elise has been a godsend, asking no questions, just delivering the information I need with quiet efficiency. The two men fall in step behind me as I exit the building. Their presence is a constant, heavy reminder of the life I'm now living. I slide into the back of the car feeling the cool leather against my skin."La Trattoria," I say, the name of our usual spot feeling foreign on my tongue.The driver nods, and t

Jason’s POVI turn to find Diane staring at us, her eyes wide with a horror that slices right through me. I shove Lacy away from me like she’s poison. I feel so stupid. Fuck. I let this happen.She turns, her back a rigid line of betrayal, and leaves. I’m moving before I can think, chasing her like my life depends on it.“Diane!” I call out, my voice cracking as she walks faster than I’ve ever seen. “Diane!”“Don’t you fucking call my name!” she growls, the words ripped from her throat as I close the distance. I grab her arm, and she spins around, her face a beautiful, agonized mess. Her cheeks are stained with tears mixed with mascara and my own heart hammers against my ribs.“So you just go back to your whores right after, seriously?” she says, each word a ragged gasp for air.“No. It’s not what it looked like,” I plead, knowing how pathetic, how useless it sounds.“Yeah, of course. It never is,” she chuckles painfully. She tries to walk away, but I grab her again, my grip desperate

Diane’s POV"No wayyyy," Nancy squeals, her voice echoing across the brunch table. "So you're telling me, he confessed his love for you after a contract marriage and countless explosive sex sessions?""Girl, if you don't option your life story for a movie, I swear to God," Scar adds, shaking her head in disbelief. I just stir my smoothie, the vortex of pink and red a perfect mirror for the chaos in my head."First things first," Nancy leans forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do you love him?"The question hangs in the air sharply. I pause, the plastic straw frozen against my lips. "I don't know.""You don't know?" Scar arches a perfectly sculpted brow. "Or you don't want to admit it just yet?""Look," I say, my voice harder than I intended. "Love makes you weak. It's a vulnerability people exploit. I'm attracted to him, yes. But I don't love him." The words feel like a shield, but why does my heart pound a frantic, traitorous rhythm against my ribs?"Just becaus

Diane’s POVThe pen drive is still jammed, no matter how many times I click. I slam my laptop shut, frustration boiling over. I thought it was just our home computer acting up, but even here in the office it’s useless. Pregnancy hormones have me on edge already. Every little thing feels like it’s going to make me explode.I press the intercom. “Elise, can you come in here?”She appears a moment later, professional as always. “Hey, what can I help with?”I hold up the damn drive. “This thing is scrambled or corrupted or… I don’t know. Do you know anyone who’s good with this kind of tech recovery?”“I have a close friend who’s excellent with data stuff. I’ll ask him and get back to you.”“Thanks, Elise. I’d really appreciate it.”She nods with a small, sympathetic smile and leaves. I dial Mr. Vance’s number again, the one he slipped me at the hotel. It rings twice and goes straight to voicemail again.“Seriously?” I mutter, tossing my phone into my bag. Why give me a number if the basta