All Chapters of PREGNANT FOR MY BILLIONAIRE PROFESSOR: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Chapter 12: Between His Margins By Thursday morning, something felt wrong. I noticed it before I’d even had my first cup of coffee. Dr. Reid wasn’t on the morning theatre list, and his office door remained shut tight. The consultants moved through the VIP wing without him, and the entire floor felt subtly off-balance—as though someone had quietly removed the center of gravity without anyone saying a word. I was reviewing postoperative observations outside one of the private suites when one of the senior floor nurses walked past. “Morning, Miss Vale.” “Morning.” I glanced toward the closed office at the end of the corridor. “Has Dr. Reid gone into surgery already?” The nurse shook her head. “He hasn't arrived yet.” I blinked. That alone was strange. Dominic Reid was never late. Never. She lowered her voice slightly. “I heard he was called into an emergency meeting before dawn.” “What kind of meeting?” She shrugged. “Above my pay grade.” With an ap

Chapter 14: After Hours Daniel noticed before anyone else. Not because I was smiling. Not because I looked different. Because I kept checking my phone. He watched me unlock it, glance at the blank screen, lock it again, then repeat the exact same ritual less than a minute later. By the fourth time, he leaned back in his chair in the residents’ lounge and folded his arms. “Are we expecting exam results?” I looked up from my coffee. “What?” “Your phone.” “My phone?” “You’ve checked it four times since I sat down.” “I have not.” “You absolutely have.” “I was looking at the time.” He glanced at the large clock mounted on the opposite wall. “…The giant one on the wall wasn’t doing it for you?” I rolled my eyes. “I was making sure I wasn’t late.” “For breakfast?” “For life.” Daniel laughed, the familiar sound warm enough to make a few nearby students glance over. “I’ve known you for years, Alora.” “I know.” “You don’t check your phone.” “I do.” “You check it when y

Chapter 16: The Invitation The first message arrived at exactly 7:12 a.m > Dominic: > Lucien still has the emotional intelligence of a houseplant. I stared at my screen for three full seconds before laughing out loud. > Alora: > You’re impossible. Three minutes passed in total silence. Just when I assumed the conversation had ended, my phone buzzed again in my palm. > Dominic: > I prefer “consistent.” A quiet snort escaped me before I could suppress it. “…Was that a laugh?” I looked up to find Cassie halfway through buttering a piece of toast, eyeing me with deep, unmistakable suspicion. “It was nothing.” “Mmm-hmm.” She took a deliberate bite. “I’ve lived with you for three years, Alora.” “And?” “You don’t laugh at your phone.” “I wasn’t laughing at my phone.” “You were definitely smiling at your phone.” “I was smiling at…” I glanced back down at the screen. “…a very questionable literary take.” Cassie set her mug down with dramatic slowness. “…Are you seriously

Chapter 18: Fitting In The notification had been sitting on my phone since seven that morning. > Hospital Administration > Reminder: Student representatives are expected at Maison Élise Boutique at 10:00 a.m. for their gala fittings. > I had read it six times. And somehow… it still didn’t feel real. “You’ve been staring at that message for ten minutes.” Cassie’s voice broke through my thoughts. “I’m not.” She folded her arms against the doorframe. “You are.” I looked down at my jeans. “I just…” “You’ve changed clothes four times.” “…Three.” She raised an eyebrow. I sighed. “…Four.” She grinned victoriously. “I knew it.” “I’m just nervous.” “It’s a fitting.” “What if I don’t like anything?” I asked, pacing back toward my closet. “What if nothing fits? What if they made a mistake and I’m not even supposed to be there?” Cassie blinked. “…Do you hear yourself right now?” I buried my face in my hands. “I know.” She crossed the room and wrapped

Chapter 20: The GalaI had spent the entire afternoon trying not to think about the gala.By six-thirty, I had failed spectacularly.I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the woman looking back at me. For a moment, I genuinely didn’t recognize her.The gown was made from luminous ivory satin, the fabric catching the warm light with every slight movement. It fell from a delicate halter neckline framed with intricate white lace that curved gracefully around my shoulders and collarbones. The bodice was fitted without being restrictive, narrowing gently at my waist before falling in a smooth, uninterrupted line over my hips.There were no crystals. No dramatic slit. No excessive embellishments.Nothing about it screamed for attention, but the simplicity made the quality impossible to miss. The satin looked almost liquid beneath the light, and the lace was so fine it appeared hand-placed rather than sewn. The designer had somehow managed to make the entire piece feel as though