All Chapters of Pregnant By My Ex's Brother : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

ELENAThe hospital room was too quiet.My mother slept with her head turned toward the window, the new bandage on her temple pale against her skin. The monitors made their soft, steady sounds. I sat in the chair with my knees drawn up and my phone face-down on the tray table, unanswered messages stacked like accusations.Three days of medical leave.Three days of not going back to that desk.Three days of trying to scrub the feeling of Damien’s mouth off my own.It hadn’t worked.A shadow moved in the doorway.I knew before I looked. The air changed the same way it always did when he arrived; pressure, heat, the sense that the room had been claimed.Damien stood there in a black coat, rain still caught on the shoulders, eyes locked on me like the rest of the hospital had dissolved. He didn’t speak at first. He just looked at me, then at my mother, then back at me, cataloguing every detail with that unnerving focus.“You shouldn’t be here,” I said under my breath.“You stopped coming

DAMIEN I made it to the car before the full force of it hit.The door shut. The soundproofing sealed out the street. For a moment I just sat there with my hands locked on the steering wheel, breathing like I had run miles. My mouth still tasted like her. My cock was so hard it hurt, straining against my trousers with every pulse. I could still feel the way her thighs had trembled against my ears when she came. The way she had pulled my hair. The broken, furious sound she made when I stopped her from undoing my belt.I had done the right thing.It felt like swallowing glass.Three days of silence from her. Then the hospital. Then it’s mutual. Then she kissed me like she was angry at both of us for wanting it. I had her on that couch, bare and dripping and begging, and I still pulled back because part of her eyes was still calculating the regret. When I finally fucked Elena Harper, I wanted every part of her in it, not just the part that got wet when I put my mouth on her.That didn’t

The executive floor changed temperature at 4:17 p.mI didn’t understand what I was feeling at first, only that the usual low hum of keyboards and muted conversations thinned, then died. People stopped mid-sentence. A woman from legal who had been laughing quietly went silent so fast it looked like someone had cut her voice. Even Jess froze beside me, fingers hovering over her keyboard.I looked up.The man walking down the central corridor did not need an introduction. Age had not softened him; it had refined him. Silver at the temples, charcoal suit with no tie, posture so straight it felt like a judgment. He moved like someone who had never once hurried for another person in his life. Two men followed at a respectful distance, but they were scenery. He was the event.Damien’s father.Alexander Voss.I had seen his face in old business articles and on the wall of the main lobby downstairs, but never in person. In person he was worse. He had Damien’s eyes; colder, older, without whate

Pregnant.The word sat in the bathroom like a living thing.I was still on the floor with my back against the wall, the test clutched in my hand so tightly the plastic edges dug into my palm. My eyes burned. I blinked hard, once, twice, refusing to let the tears actually fall. If I started crying I wasn’t sure I would stop, and I could not afford to fall apart on this cold tile with no one to hear me.“Okay,” I whispered to the empty room. My voice sounded strange. Thin. “Okay. Just… think.”But thinking only made it worse.My mind dragged me backward without permission; to the night everything started. The bar. The drinks burning down my throat while Marcus’s laugh still echoed in my head. Damien’s eyes across the space, dark and steady, like he had been waiting. The car. The way I had climbed into his lap in a dress that still smelled like the party I had run from. The desperate, angry way I had kissed him. The way I had told him not to stop.I had not thought about protection.I ha

The lobby felt like a stage I had been shoved onto without a script. Security had already started moving toward the board. Damien reached it first. He didn’t shout. He didn’t lose control. He simply looked at the printed photos for a long three seconds, then turned his head toward Marcus with an expression so empty it was worse than rage. “Take it down,” he said. One of the security men moved immediately. Marcus smiled like a man who had been waiting for this exact reaction. “Too late,” Marcus said, loud enough for the gathering employees to hear. “It’s already on three internal channels and a private board thread. People were going to find out eventually. I just hate secrets.” Alexander stood near the glass doors, hands folded loosely in front of him, watching as if this were a mildly interesting board presentation. When his eyes drifted to me, they held no surprise. Only confirmation. I felt the nausea rise hard and fast. The combination of the smell of the lobby flowers,