Todos los capítulos de PREGNANT FOR MY BILLIONAIRE PROFESSOR: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Chapter 21: The BalconyThe balcony door clicked open behind me.I turned.Dominic.For a moment, neither of us spoke.He stepped outside, closing the door softly behind him. The music from the ballroom immediately became muffled, reduced to a distant hum beneath the quiet rush of the evening air. He stopped beside the railing, leaving a respectful distance between us.“You escaped.”I smiled faintly. “So did you.”“I was required to attend.”I glanced at him. “You make it sound like a court summons.”“It felt similar.”A laugh slipped out of me.He looked at me then—really looked. Not the brief, clinical glances I was accustomed to during rounds, nor the distracted assessment he gave me when reviewing a report. His gaze moved over me once, slowly, then returned to my face.“The dress suits you.”My smile faltered. For some reason, those four words landed harder than they should have.I looked down at myself. “Thank you.”There was a strange warmth gathering beneath my skin. He

Chapter 23: UnfairI woke up in a particularly good mood today.I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to pinpoint why, until it hit me.The bookmark.A quiet smile caught the corners of my mouth. I reached over to the bedside table and pulled my notebook closer, checking between the pages. The polished wood was still tucked safely inside.***For someone who lives inside books***I ran my thumb over the lettering. Daniel had always been thoughtful, but the simple spontaneity of it was what got to me. He’d just seen something that made him think of me and picked it up.It felt nice. Easy.Then, right on cue, my brain ruined the moment.“You chose well.”I groaned and tossed the notebook onto the mattress. "Oh, come on."It was absurd. Dominic had complimented a dress—that was all. I cut the thought off before it could take root. No. Absolutely not. I had patients to track, lectures to attend, and a career to build. I didn't have time to rehearse four-word sentences until

Chapter 25: The LineI woke up the next morning feeling oddly lighter. I couldn't quite pinpoint why. Maybe it was because yesterday had ended on a surprisingly soft note, or because Dr. Reid had actually stood up for me in front of Dr. Bell. Or maybe it was just that, for the first time in days, I didn't step onto the ward expecting an absolute disaster.I got dressed quickly, slid my notebook into my bag, and let my fingers trace the edge of the smooth wooden bookmark tucked inside.For someone who lives inside books.A small smile caught me off guard. Daniel really did get me.The warmth of that thought stayed with me all the way to the hospital. By eight o’clock, I was waiting outside the surgical ward with the rest of the student rotation.Then he walked up.Dominic had a patient chart tucked under one arm, looking just as unbothered and composed as ever. His eyes brushed past mine for a split second. No weirdness, no lingering glare—just his usual, barely-there nod to the

Chapter 27: The Late ShiftBy nine-thirty, I was entirely convinced I’d managed to escape Dr. Reid for the night.It had been an exhausting twenty-four hours. Yesterday, I’d walked out of his office seething with rage. Tonight, after his surprisingly sincere apology, I’d walked out with a small, reluctant smile tugging at my lips. I still wasn’t entirely sure how he’d managed to flip the script so completely.I was halfway through shoving my textbooks into my bag at the station when a nurse sprinted past, rubber soles squeaking loudly against the linoleum."Emergency admission rolling in!" she called out over her shoulder. "Possible acute abdomen!"I paused, looking up. "Which service?""Internal Med! They're pulling in the on-call attending!"Before my brain could talk my exhausted body out of it, I grabbed my notebook.The Emergency Department was already a chaotic mess when I hit the doors. A gurney was being shoved through the double doors, flanked by two paramedics and a juni

By the end of the week, I had developed a dangerous habit.I had started looking forward to seeing Dr. Reid.Not in any dramatic way.I still complained about him.I still thought he was unnecessarily difficult at least twice a day.And I still occasionally fantasized about throwing one of his perfectly organized files at his head.But somewhere between the coffee he remembered to order and the way he had started listening when I spoke, something had shifted.I noticed it most that morning.We were halfway through rounds when we reached Mrs. Bennett’s room.She was sixty-eight, recovering from what had initially been treated as a straightforward postoperative complication. Her pain was improving, her blood pressure was stable, and her blood tests looked reassuring.Everything suggested she was getting better.Except she wasn’t.She’d become increasingly confused overnight.Dr. Reid stood at the foot of the bed, reviewing her chart.“What changed?”The resident beside him answered imm