The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Whiskey Won't Lie-1

Sean POW

The door slammed behind me with a satisfying

g crash that echoed through the penthouse hallway.

I stood there for a moment, waiting for what, I was I sure. Maybe for the sound of hurrying footsteps, for Angola's voice calling

my name,

Two years ago, she would have followed.

Would have appeared in the doorway with that mix of concern and stubbornness in her amber eyes, ready to continue whatever argument we were having until we reached some sort of resolution.

But the hallway remained silent.

I pulled out my phone, scanning through the banking alerts that had triggered my

initial anger.

Two years of marriage, and Angela hadn't touched a single cent of the money I'd transferred to her account.

Not the monthly allowance, not the "compensation" after our night together, nothing. The balance sat there, untouched, like some sort of silent accusation.

And now she wanted to move out? To get her own apartment? The thought made my blood boil all over again.

The elevator arrived with a soft chime. As I stepped in, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the polished brass - my normally immaculate appearance slightly disheveled, tie loosened, a muscle working in my jaw.

I looked exactly like what I was: a man who'd lost control of a situation he thought he had perfectly managed.

seat of the waiting town car. Peter nodded silently, already familiar with

"Metropolitan Club," I told the driver as I slid into the back seat of the waiting my preferred destination after difficult days.

As the car pulled away from Park Avenue, my mind drifted back to another time, another version of Angela.

She'd been waiting outside the student council room at Saint Paul's School, her dark hair caught in the winter wind, two cups of coffee steaming in her gloved hands.

"You missed dinner again,” she'd said, holding out one of the cups. The dining hall's closed, but I saved you a sandwich."

Even then, she'd been taking care of me, anticipating my needs before I know them myself. We were only th had that quiet strength about her.

When had that changed?.

thirteen, but she already

When had she become this stranger who refused my money, who spent lunch hours with Nathan Harrison, who looked at me with -such careful distance in her eyes?

The thought of him made my hands clench. The way he hovered around Angela's office, always ready with a suggestion of a helping hand. The

and I pushed the memories away. Tonight wasn't about Angela, or Nathan,

available now.

was about expensive whiskey and the blessed numbness

1/2

Whiskey Won't

were

"You look like shit."

of Stacollan 25 across the table.

further. "What?" Exan's eyebrows shot up. "I thought you two

of whiskey, letting it burn away the confusion in my chest. “She's found an apartment on 82nd Street. Says

William shook his head. "The monthly allowance alone would set most people up

hasn't touched it. I signaled for another drink. "Two years of marriage, and she hasn't spent a single cent of

you know, that

That night.

soft and warm and

The way

at every single sensation that shot through her had me feeling more pleasure than I had ever felt before.

Chapter Comments

1

POST COMMENT NOW

< SHARE

212

Pregnancy of the

Whiskey

asleep that night

elated and at

I almost

the current

was a very big possibility that I would become

knew

I confirmed. "Says she doesn 1

muttered. That upstart from Wilson Investment's

of Nathan made something dark and ugly twist

her health?" Evan's tone made it clear exactly what

myself saying. "Ever since

knowing

glass. "Angela and I agreed from the start this marri was temporary. A business arrangement.

why does her moving out bother you so much?" Evan's question cut

doesn't." The lie tasted worse than the whiskey. "I just don't understand why she's being difficult about this. We

laugh was sharp. "You really expect your ex-wife to stick around playing best friend while you build a life

words slightly slurred. When had they refilled my glass?

Can't just build her own life? With

than I'd intended, whiskey sloshing over the sides. "Nathan Harrison is a second-rate trader who

easy