All Chapters of Pregnant for my ex’s enemy : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Aria’s POV I knew something was wrong the moment Damien walked into the living room. His expression was calm, too calm. After spending days around him, I had already learned something dangerous about Damien Blackwell. The calmer he looked, the worse the situation usually was. I lowered the teacup in my hands, watching him cross the penthouse. Sophia noticed it too. She glanced between us before setting her tablet aside. “What happened?” Damien loosened his tie slightly before answering. “Bianca told Adrian.” The room went silent. I exhaled slowly through my nose“What?” Sophia closed her eyes briefly. “Oh no.” Panic rushed through me instantly. I stood so quickly the room tilted. Damien reached for my arm to steady me. “Careful.” I pulled away without thinking. “When did she tell him?” “About an hour ago.” Fear crashed harder into my chest. My mind immediately imagined Adrian’s reaction—shock, anger, possessiveness, and worst of all, hope. Because a baby change

Adrian’s POV By the time I reached Damien Blackwell’s residence, anger had already shifted into something heavier—frustration mixed with humiliation. The rain hadn’t stopped all evening. London looked cold and miserable through the car windows while notifications continued flooding my phone every few seconds. News articles, speculations, photos. Every headline seemed designed to make things worse. Aria Collins linked to Damien Blackwell after hospital leak Mystery pregnancy fuels billionaire scandal People were discussing my fiancée’s pregnancy like it was entertainment. And somehow Damien’s name sat beside hers in every article. I gripped my phone harder. None of this should have happened. Not to Aria. Not to us. The driver stopped outside the building entrance and I stepped out before he could open the umbrella properly. Security recognized me instantly. That only irritated me more. It meant they already expected me tonight. One guard approached carefully. “Mr.

Damien’s POV The television was already on before Aria finished lowering her phone. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The atmosphere inside the room had shifted too quickly. One moment we were discussing hospital observation, the next another piece of Aria’s private life had been thrown into public entertainment. Marcus grabbed the remote first. A female news anchor appeared instantly across the screen. “Photos obtained late this morning appear to show Aria Collins becoming ill inside Damien Blackwell’s private residence following recent pregnancy speculation.” My jaw hardened. The screen changed. Blurred photographs filled the display—Aria rushing toward the bathroom, me following behind her, my hand against her back afterward. Too intimate. Far too intimate. And now edited into a narrative designed to destroy her publicly. Sophia muttered something furious under her breath. Adrian looked ready to punch through the television. But Aria simply stood there staring silently at the s

Damien’s POV Aria fell asleep less than forty minutes into the drive. I noticed the exact moment exhaustion finally won. Her breathing slowed gradually beside me before her head leaned lightly against the window. The dark circles beneath her eyes looked worse today. Too much stress, too many cameras, too many people demanding pieces of her energy. I looked away toward the road ahead while rain continued striking softly against the windshield. The countryside outside London always felt quieter during storms. That was exactly why I chose this place. Privacy. Distance. Silence. Things Aria desperately needed now. Marcus sat in the passenger seat checking security updates every few minutes while the driver continued along the narrow road beside the forest. “No confirmed sightings after we left the city,” Marcus said quietly. Good. For once. I glanced briefly toward Aria again. Even asleep she looked emotionally tense. One hand rested unconsciously against her stomach beneath the b

Damien’s POV Adrian never called twice. If he called once, it meant something mattered. If he called again, it meant something had already gone wrong. I stepped away from the couch before answering, my eyes flicking toward Aria. She sat near the fireplace, her gaze following me with quiet suspicion, as though she already sensed the weight of the conversation waiting on the other end of the line. “Talk,” I said, my voice clipped. Adrian’s reply came sharp, almost cutting through the static. “Where is she?” “At the lake house,” I answered. There was a pause, followed by a frustrated exhale. “You should’ve told me before leaving the city.” “She needed rest, not another argument,” I said firmly. “This isn’t about us,” he snapped. No. It was worse. I could already hear it in his voice. “What happened?” I asked. Silence stretched for a moment before Adrian finally spoke. “My father spoke to the press tonight.” My expression hardened instantly. Of course he did. Richa