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?

hovered around Angela's office, always ready with a suggestion of a helping hand. The casual familiarity in

I pushed the memories away. Tonight wasn't about Angela, or Nathan, or the mess my carefully

network available now.

about expensive whiskey and

1/2

Whiskey Won't

Evan were already walling

"You look like shit."

gloss of Stacollan 25 across

move out."I dropped into my seat, loosening my further. "What?" Exan's eyebrows shot up. "I thought you two had

confusion in my chest. “She's found an apartment on 82nd Street. Says she wants to make her own way. The words came out

his head. "The monthly allowance alone

years of marriage, and

Evan. "Seriously? Not even after... you

That night.

my arms- soft and warm and right in a way I didn't

The way

her had me feeling more pleasure than I had ever felt before. I hadn't ever done anything, even remotely as intimate with someone who gave

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212

of

Whiskey Won't

fell asleep that

so elated and

that I

the

that

I knew I

penny," I confirmed. "Says she doesn

influence, William muttered. That upstart from Wilson Investment's been

and ugly twist in my chest. "He called

health?" Evan's tone made it

lately, I found myself saying. "Ever

and Evan exchanged knowing looks. How

focusing instead on the amber liquid in my glass. "Angela and I agreed

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

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

really expect your ex-wife to stick around playing best friend while you build a life with Christina? Come on, Sean. Even you can't

slightly slurred. When had they refilled my glass? "She's always been

pressed. "Can't just move on? Can't just build her own life? With someone like Harrison,

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

easy