All Chapters of Pregnant for my ex’s enemy : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Aria’s POV I stared at Damien in disbelief. “He said that to the press?” Damien’s expression remained unreadable. “Yes.” A cold wave of anger spread through my chest. Not sadness this time, not confusion, anger. Real anger. I pushed the blanket away and stood from the bed despite the dizziness still lingering inside me. “That was not his story to tell.” Damien watched me carefully as I walked toward the window. London stretched below the penthouse in silver morning light while my entire life continued collapsing online. Again. Because of Adrian. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself and tried to breathe slowly. Three years. Three years loving someone who apparently had no problem throwing my name into public scandal just to regain control of a situation. The betrayal felt uglier now, not because of Bianca, but because of how quickly Adrian stopped protecting me once things became difficult. Behind me, Damien remained silent for a moment before speaking. “The statement alre

Damien’s POV Aria was hiding something. I realized it the moment she walked out of the bathroom pretending everything was fine. Her face remained calm, her voice steady, but her eyes gave her away. Too distracted, too distant, like her thoughts were running somewhere she did not want anyone following. Sophia noticed it too. I could tell by the way she kept watching Aria carefully during lunch. But neither of us pushed. Not yet. Aria sat across from me at the dining table wearing one of the outfits Sophia had bought for her earlier that afternoon. A simple cream sweater, dark jeans, minimal makeup. And somehow she still managed to pull attention from every corner of the room without trying. Dangerous woman. The realization irritated me more than it should have. I was not supposed to become emotionally invested in people, especially not women carrying complications this large. But Aria walked into chaos carrying heartbreak and pride in equal measure, and I could not stop paying a

Damien’s POV Aria stayed outside on the balcony longer than she should have. Rain drifted lightly across the city while cold wind moved through the open space, yet she remained near the glass railing as if she needed distance from everything inside the penthouse, including me. I watched her quietly from the doorway before finally walking closer. “You’re freezing.” She folded her arms tighter without turning. “I needed air.” No. She needed space to think. The moment she had implied pregnancy downstairs, panic crossed her face too quickly to ignore. Now she looked terrified, and that unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. I stepped beside her beneath the gray London sky. Cars streamed below like rivers of light while rain softened the city into something muted. “You probably think I’m losing my mind,” she said. I studied her profile. “You’re overwhelmed.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “That’s a polite way of saying it.” Silence stretched between us until she ex

Damien’s POV Aria cried quietly for almost ten minutes. Not loud, not dramatic, just silent tears she kept trying to wipe away as though she was embarrassed to break down in front of me. That unsettled me more than the pregnancy itself. Somewhere in her life, someone had taught her that vulnerability required apology. I leaned against the bathroom counter beside her, giving her space to breathe. The test still rested near the sink between us. Two lines. Simple. Small. Life‑changing. Aria stared at nothing for several long seconds before whispering, “I don’t even know what happens now.” Her voice carried exhaustion, fragile in a way I hadn’t heard before. “Right now, nothing changes tonight,” I said honestly. She let out a soft laugh through her tears. “You really know how to make life sound less terrifying.” “I’m serious.” Finally she looked up at me. Mascara smudged beneath tired eyes, yet she was still beautiful. Especially now. Dangerous thought. Very dangerous.

Adrian’s POV The silence inside my penthouse was unbearable. I stood near the floor‑to‑ceiling windows with a glass of whiskey in my hand, watching London blur beneath the rain. The city lights shimmered against wet streets, but none of it mattered. Three days. Aria had been gone for three days, and every hour without her made the apartment feel emptier, colder, wrong. I rubbed my jaw and took another drink, the burn of whiskey doing nothing to quiet the storm inside me. The media refused to leave me alone. Every headline cut deeper, each one twisting the knife further. “Damien Blackwell and Aria Collins Spotted Together Again. Mystery Woman Stays Inside Blackwell Penthouse. Engagement Collapse Turns Into Billionaire Scandal.” Each article felt like broken glass dragged across my nerves. None of them knew the truth. None of them understood that Aria was supposed to be my future, my fiancée, my life. And somehow Damien had walked into the middle of everything before