All Chapters of Pregnant By My Ex's Brother : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The buzzer went off like a gunshot.I froze in the middle of the room, still in last night’s dress, phone still in my hand. Three short, impatient bursts. Then a fourth, longer one.He was here.I didn’t move. Part of me hoped if I stayed quiet long enough he’d leave. The other part already knew better. Marcus never left when he wanted something.The buzzer screamed again.I walked to the intercom, heart hammering against my ribs, and pressed the button.“What do you want?”“Open the door, Elena.” His voice crackled through the speaker, tight and controlled. “Now.”I should have ignored him. I should have turned the volume down and walked away. Instead I hit the unlock button like a coward and waited.Thirty seconds later he was on the other side of my door, knocking hard enough to rattle the frame.I opened it.Marcus stood there in the same clothes from the party, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot, jaw locked. He looked me up and down once, taking in the wrinkled dress, the bare feet, the

I should have hung up. I should have locked the door, turned off the lights, and pretended the man standing on the sidewalk three floors below did not exist.Instead my thumb hovered over the intercom button like it had a mind of its own.Down on the street, Damien didn’t move. He just stood there beside his car, phone still pressed to his ear, staring up at my window as if he could see straight through the thin curtain and into the mess of me.“Elena.”His voice was quieter now. Rougher. Like saying my name cost him something.I closed my eyes.The rational part of my brain was screaming. My mother was asleep fifteen feet away. Marcus had only left an hour ago. I was still wearing the dress I had begged his brother to fuck me in. Everything about this was wrong.But the other part, the part that had climbed into his lap in a dark side street and sunk down onto him while crying, was louder.I pressed the button.The buzzer sounded harsh in the quiet hallway.I heard the front door of

Damien’s mouth was already on mine again, deeper this time, hungrier. One hand stayed braced above my head on the doorframe while the other slid down my back, pulling me flush against him until there was no space left between us. I could feel the hard line of his body, the controlled strength in every inch of him, and for a dangerous second my mind went white. He kissed like he already owned the right to. Slow enough to make me ache, deep enough to steal the air from my lungs. His tongue brushed mine and a broken sound escaped my throat before I could stop it. His hand flexed on my lower back in answer, fingers digging in just enough to make my knees weak. He walked me backward without breaking the kiss. My shoulders hit the wall. He followed, crowding me there, one thigh sliding between mine as he tilted my head exactly how he wanted it. The heat of him soaked through the thin cotton of my shirt. Every brush of his chest against mine sent sparks down my spine. I could feel how

They let me see her just after two in the morning.The corridor leading to her room felt longer than it should have. Every step echoed. The fluorescent lights hummed with a tired, relentless brightness that made the shadows under my eyes feel permanent. A nurse walked ahead of me, soft-soled shoes whispering against the linoleum, and pushed open a door that smelled of antiseptic and something faintly metallic.My mother looked smaller than I had ever seen her.The head of the bed was slightly raised. An oxygen tube rested beneath her nose. The bandage on her temple was stark white against her skin, a quiet reminder of the blood I had found on the bathroom floor. Monitors blinked in soft greens and blues. An IV dripped steadily into the back of her hand.I stood in the doorway for a long moment, afraid that if I moved closer the fragile stillness would shatter.The nurse gave me a gentle look. “You can sit with her. She’s sedated, but she might hear you. A few minutes only.”I nodded

Two weeks later The nausea hit me in the middle of the morning meeting. It came without warning; sudden, sharp, and so strong I had to press my fingers hard against my lips and stare at the edge of the conference table until the wave passed. The fluorescent lights felt too bright. The smell of someone’s leftover coffee from the break room made my stomach twist violently. I swallowed hard and forced my face to stay neutral. Across the table, my supervisor, Dana, was still talking about quarterly targets. Her voice sounded distant, like it was coming through water. I nodded when everyone else nodded. Wrote something meaningless on my notepad. Pretended I was fine. I had been pretending for days. The fatigue was the worst part. Not the normal tiredness from long hospital visits and late nights worrying about my mother. This was different. Heavier. Like my bones had filled with wet sand. I woke up already exhausted. By mid-afternoon my eyes burned and my thoughts turned