All Chapters of My Billionaire Husband Was Never Human : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Six months had passed since my mother walked out of the mansion, and life had gradually settled into a routine. I had fully settled into life as Mrs. Daniel Johnson. I had grown used to the quiet house, the silent compound, and the long days that seemed to drift by without interruption. But no matter how comfortable my new life became, my thoughts often returned to my mother. Things had never been resolved between us. At first, after she left, we still spoke occasionally. Sometimes once a week. Sometimes every two weeks. Then the calls became once a month. Eventually, they stopped almost completely. Sometimes I would stand quietly by the bedroom window with my phone in my hand, staring outside without really seeing anything. Whenever Daniel found me like that, he already knew what was on my mind. "What is it?" he would ask gently. I would sigh. "I don’t even know how my mother is feeling anymore." I lowered my eyes. "I live in a house full of luxury. I’m comfortable. I’m not lacking

That evening, over dinner, Daniel and I argued playfully over baby names. “I want a boy,” Daniel said. I smiled. “And if it’s a girl?” “I’ll love her too.” He paused, a faint smile touching his lips. “But I’d rather have a son.” “Why?” I asked. Daniel looked down at his plate for a moment before answering. “I’d like someone to carry on from where I stop… before I leave.” I frowned. “Leave?” I looked at him in confusion. “Leave where?” For a long five seconds, Daniel didn’t answer. He simply looked at me. His smile disappeared. His eyes rested on my face, calm and unreadable. Then, just as suddenly, the smile returned. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said lightly. “I just meant I’d like a son I can teach things to. Someone I can play football with… someone who’ll grow into a fine man.” I laughed softly. “You scared me for a second.” Daniel reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was warm and reassuring. I smiled back, though his ear

I was sitting by the French windows when the gate buzzer chimed. I checked my phone screen: 4:55 p.m. I almost laughed out loud at how he was five minutes early, beating his usual mark by a hair. Maybe traffic had cooperated today, or maybe he had left his office early. Either way, the timing was eerie. By the time I walked out to the foyer, the heavy double doors clicked open. Daniel stepped inside, shrugging off his charcoal jacket and dropping his keys right into the ceramic bowl. His hair was neat, his tie was straight, and not a single bead of sweat marked his face despite the humid Lagos heat outside. “Welcome home,” I said, leaning in to take his briefcase. He kissed my cheek, his skin unusually cool, like he’d just stepped out of an AC-blasted car, though the driver hadn’t even parked yet. “You’re early today,” I noted, following him toward the living room. Daniel paused, half-turning with a mild, smooth expression. “Is that a crime?” “No, just surprising. With the Third

Immaculate suit, and kissed my forehead. His skin felt cool against mine, carrying that faint, lingering scent of rain on dry earth. When he rested a hand over my stomach, I kept my breathing steady, forcing myself not to pull away. “Take good care of yourself today,” he murmured. “I will,” I replied quietly. He left at exactly eight o’clock. I didn't try to follow him today. The memory of the vanished SUV on the highway and the terrifying ease with which he had known about my outing left a heavy, chilling weight in my chest. I had tried to convince myself that the security guard tipped him off, but deep down, the excuse felt hollow. Instead, I spent the morning wandering through the silent, sprawling rooms of the mansion. Every corner felt different now—closer, heavier, like the walls were slowly closing in. By afternoon, the heavy humidity in Lagos broke as dark, bruised storm clouds rolled across the sky, turning the afternoon light a dull, eerie grey. I sat at the mahogany d

I had settled into a quiet routine. The nursery Daniel had prepared had become my favourite room in the mansion. It was beautiful. Tiny clothes hung neatly inside the wardrobe. Little shoes sat in neat rows on the shelves. A beautifully carved wooden cradle stood beside the window. Daniel had bought everything himself. Money was never an issue. If anything, he seemed to enjoy shopping for the baby. Almost every week, something new arrived—sometimes toys, sometimes blankets, sometimes tiny baby socks and mittens, and other times expensive baby products I had never even heard of. Whenever I asked if he wasn’t buying too much, he would simply smile and say, “Our child deserves the best.” I couldn’t help smiling whenever I looked around the nursery. He loved our baby. That much was obvious. There was just one thing I couldn’t understand. He had never gone with me to the hospital. Not once. Every antenatal appointment came with another excuse: *“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I have an impo