All Chapters of PREGNANT FOR MY BILLIONAIRE PROFESSOR: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Chapter One "Sign it, Alora. You carry my heir, I buy your family’s freedom, and the word 'love' never crosses our lips again. You are my wife on paper, and my property in this bed. Nothing more.” The words were as cold as the stainless-steel surgical tools he wielded daily. My billionaire professor, now my ruthless husband, slid the crisp, white marriage contract across his heavy mahogany desk. Looking up at Dr. Dominic Reid’s frozen, impossibly handsome face, I felt the air completely leave my lungs. How did a brilliant, scholarship medical student end up trapped by the most ruthless cardiothoracic surgeon in the country? How did a girl who practically lived on instant ramen, cheap coffee, and pure adrenaline find herself carrying the secret heir to a multi-billion-dollar medical empire? To understand my complete ruin, you have to go back to the exact day he walked into our university hospital lecture hall three months ago. _ It was a Tuesday morning, and the heat i

Chapter 3: Written Between the Lines I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the worn black cover of my notebook lying open on Dominic Reid’s desk. He had read it. Or at least… some of it. The thought alone was enough to make me bury my face in my pillow. “What kind of idiot leaves her entire life behind?” I muttered into the mattress. Cassie looked up from where she was pulling on her sneakers. “You’ve been talking to yourself for five minutes.” “I have not.” “You absolutely have.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you dying?” “No.” “Failing?” “No.” She zipped up her backpack. “Then what’s wrong with you?” I hesitated. “…Nothing.” “Liar.” I grabbed my notebook-less backpack and headed for the door before she could ask another question. “If I fail today’s rounds because of you, I’m haunting you.” “You can’t haunt people while you’re still alive.” “I’ll find a way.” ⸻ By seven o’clock, Theatre Three had already fallen into its fam

Chapter 5: The Storm His words had trailed after me through every single lecture, every ward round, and every patient interview I’d conducted that afternoon. "Don’t let yourself get distracted." The more I turned those five words over in my head, the less certain I became about what he’d actually meant by them. By ten to six, with a heavy squall brewing over the skyline, I found myself heading back toward the VIP wing. The first thick drops of rain were already splattering against the glass doors of the entrance as I stepped inside. Within seconds, that initial drizzle exploded into a downpour. Thunder rumbled low and heavy somewhere directly over the city. The usually frantic corridor felt eerie in its quiet. Most of the consultants had already drifted off for evening rounds, leaving behind only the soft, ambient glow of the wall lights reflecting off pristine, polished floors. I paused right outside his door, tucked the stack of papers tighter under my arm, and knocked t

Chapter 7: Lines That Shouldn’t Blur I was not going to think about Dr. Dominic Reid today. I repeated that single rule to myself as I tied my hair into a neat bun, buttoned my white coat, and slung my bag over my shoulder. You’re overthinking. He caught you because you almost fell. He’s your supervisor. End of story. Simple. Reasonable. Entirely logical. That resolution lasted for all of fourteen minutes. By the time I stepped into the VIP wing, I was already wondering whether he’d managed to get a single hour of sleep after the storm. I gave myself a quick mental scolding. Hopeless. The VIP ward was unusually chaotic that morning. Nurses were moving quickly between private rooms, consultants spoke in hurried, clipped tones, and junior doctors bustled through the hall clutching lab results and updated charts. A high-profile patient had been admitted overnight—whoever he was, he clearly carried weight. Private security personnel stood discreetly outside one of the cor

Chapter 9: The First Date The first time Daniel Kohn asked me to dinner, I actually laughed out loud. “I wasn’t joking.” “I know.” “So…” He folded his arms, looking at me expectantly. “Is that a yes?” I stared across the residents’ lounge at him, genuinely caught off guard. Around us, tired interns drifted in and out between cases, someone was aggressively arguing with the snack machine, and the muted wall-mounted television in the corner was churning through local news. “You mean…” “A real dinner,” his smile widened. “No anatomy flashcards.” “No pharmacology.” “No pathology mnemonics.” “Just food.” “And basic human conversation.” I narrowed my eyes at him, suddenly suspicious. “You’re asking me out on a date.” “I’m asking if you’ll have dinner with me.” “That isn’t an answer.” “It was intentionally designed not to be.” I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. Daniel had always been like this—gentle enough to leave me room to breathe, but confident enou