All Chapters of Pregnant for my ex’s enemy : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Aria’s POVI couldn’t breathe. For a moment, I genuinely thought I’d misheard her. Arthur Blackwell knew about me before she did. How was that even possible? The rain seemed to disappear. The street, the SUV, the people around us; everything faded behind the roaring confusion inside my head. “What?” My voice barely came out. My mother looked exhausted, like every word she spoke was reopening wounds she had spent decades trying to close. “Mom, that doesn’t make any sense.” “I know.” “No, you don’t understand.” I shook my head, my voice trembling. “How could anyone know about me before you did?” Beside me, Damien remained unusually silent. That frightened me. Normally, Damien always had answers, or at least questions. Now he looked as lost as I felt. My mother wiped at her eyes. “It started before your father and I got married.” That caught my attention immediately. Nobody ever talked about that time. To me, my parents had always simply existed together—solid, unshakab

Damien’s POVFor a moment, I thought I’d heard Marcus wrong. Nathan Collins. The name alone was enough to drag years of buried memories to the surface. Not my memories, my father’s. Conversations I wasn’t supposed to hear. Arguments that stopped the moment I entered a room. Files that disappeared whenever I got too close. Nathan Collins was a ghost. A man nobody could find. A man everyone seemed afraid to talk about. And now he had just walked into Blackwell Holdings. After twenty‑six years. Nothing about that was a coincidence. Across the bathroom, Aria stared at me, waiting. “What happened?” I ended the call slowly. Marcus was still talking, still giving details, but I barely heard any of it. Because one thought kept repeating in my head. If Nathan Collins had finally surfaced, then whatever had been hidden for decades was about to come out. And people were going to get hurt. “Damien.” Aria’s voice pulled me back. I looked at her. She still looked pale from being sic

Aria’s POVThe video started playing before I was ready to watch it. Marcus connected his phone to the television in the safe house living room, and suddenly my father’s face filled the screen. For a second, nobody saw the man in the video. We only saw the man we had lost. My father. Alive. Breathing. Looking directly into the camera. The sight hit me harder than I expected. A sharp ache spread through my chest. I hadn’t heard his voice in so long, hadn’t seen him smile, hadn’t watched him rub the back of his neck when he was nervous. Small things. The kind grief steals first. My eyes burned. Beside me, my mother quietly reached for a tissue. Across the room, even Adrian looked shaken. The video quality wasn’t perfect. It had clearly been recorded quickly, secretly. My father sat alone in what looked like an office. The date in the corner confirmed it—three days before his death. My pulse began to race. “Dad…” The word slipped out before I could stop it. Then the recording beg

Aria’s POV“No.” The word tore from my mother’s throat, raw and desperate, nothing like the calm woman who had spent years holding our family together. The living room seemed frozen around her. Rain battered the windows, the security alarm continued flashing red, yet all I could focus on was the envelope lying outside the gate and Nathan’s words. The letter was written by her real mother. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. This wasn’t possible. My mother raised me, loved me, protected me. She was my mother. She had to be. “He’s lying.” Her voice shook violently. “Aria, he’s lying.” I turned toward her. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to believe. The realization broke something inside me. Because I wanted to trust her. I desperately wanted to trust her. But every major truth I’d learned during the past few days had started as something I was told wasn’t true. My father. Arthur. Nathan. Everything. Damien’s hand remained firmly at my back, steadying me, grou

Aria’s POVThe letter slipped from my fingers and landed on the floor. Nobody looked at it. Nobody cared about it anymore. Because every eye in the room was fixed on Damien. Including mine. The rain continued hammering against the windows. The security alarm had finally been silenced, but the tension inside the safe house felt louder than ever. I stared at him, waiting. For once, I wasn’t afraid of the answer. I was afraid he wouldn’t give me one. Damien held my gaze, and to his credit he didn’t look away. My mother did. Marcus did. Adrian did. But Damien didn’t. The silence stretched for several seconds before he exhaled slowly and said the last thing I expected. “I don’t know who your biological father is.” The room froze. Not because of the answer, but because of how honest it sounded. There was no hesitation, no calculation, just truth. I blinked. “What?” Damien rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I know the story.” Relief and frustration collided inside me. A story. Fina