The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 11

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The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife Chapter 11: Deciding to Tell Him

Angela Pov

The setting sun cast long shadows in the master bedroom, the elegant furnishings as untouchable as a museum exhibit.

1 slipped off my shoes, remembering this morning's encounter with Sean in the Shaw Group Inbiby

"Mrs. Shaw, he'd said. The quarterly projections look promising. Good work."

Just another executive assistant who happened to share his last name. The thought drew a bitter laugh from my throat.

I moved to the window, watching the last rays of sunlight glint off the glass towers of Manhattan. How many evenings had I spent like this, alone in our supposed marital home while Sean attended another "essential" business dinner?

The city lights were beginning to flicker to life, each one a reminder of the countless social events I'd never been invited to attend.

Wall St

His friends - Evan, William, the whole Wall Street crowd - they all chew the truth about our marriage. I'd seen it in their carefsl politeness, the way they excluded me from their intimate gatherings. After all, why include a temporary placeholder in their permanent social circle?

The buzz of my phone made me jump. For a moment, my heart leaped - but it was just Emily, confirming tomorrow's meeting schedule.

set the phone aside, trying to ignore the disappointment that shouldn't exist. This was what I'd agreed to, after all. A marriage of convenience, nothing more.

I could picture Sean in his office now, suit jacket draped over his chair, sleeves rolled up as he pored over contracts and spreadsheets.

Perhaps Christina was there too, just like that afternoon, kneeling between his legs, doing that disgusting thing.

"Mrs. Shaw?

thoughts. Our longtime maid stood in the doorway, holding an

"This just arriv

she said, stepping forced. "She insisted it

package was heavy, wrapped in cream paper bearing a Madison Avenue boutique's logo. Inside was a wooden box inlaid

blue velvet, sat a small bronze statue. The figure of a woman, her belly swollen with child, her

realized, my throat suddenly tight. The base bore an

For my

you bring

place it on

managed. "TIL... find

again, I cradled the statue in my hands, feeling the weight of Elizabeth's hopes and my reality

true granddaughter than an arranged match for Sean. Her genuine warmth made our

that much heavier.

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11:09 Mon Apr 7.⚫

11: Deciding

pregnant. His fore had changed instantly – not anger or shock, but something worse, His els

hand drift to

coffee shop conversation

Sean, keep the baby,

growing in

bedside table, its presence both comforting and accusatory. The goddess's serene smile seemed to hold

to action. Before I could second-guess myself, I picked up my phone. A text would be better than a face-to-face conversation. More controlled, less chance of revealing the storm of emotions behind the

over the keyboard. How do you compress such

need to talk" felt too cliché, too dramatic. I have news was too

simplicity

"I'm pregnant."