The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 22

The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife-

Chapter 22: A Late Night Call

Angela POV

Ever since Christina's setur, Sean rarely spent his nights at home.

After he stormed out earlier today, I knew he must be with her again I couldn't understand why he insisted I stay in this apartment, why he was even offering to give me the property.

Tidn't he realize how cruel that vas?

The one left behind always suffers more, don't they?

I would rather move out on my own, start fresh somewhere new and et these wounds heal faster.

Sarah approached me with her usual quiet efficiency. Should I help you unpack your suitcase, Mrs. Shaw?"

"No need," I replied softly. "I'm just postponing the move by a few days. I'll be leaving eventually anyway."

Sarah nodded, her eyes holding a mix of understanding and sympathy as she helped carry my suitcase back to my bedroom.

This simple action made me feel like a hotel guest. That's what I had become in this place a temporary occupant, waiting for checkout time. Even in what had been my home for two years, I was already feeling like a stranger passing through.

My phone buzzed against the marble nightstand, its gentle vibration seeming thunderous in the quiet room.

I hesitated, my heart rate quickening. Would it be Christina again, calling to gloat about another evening with Sean?

The name that appeared on the screen surprised me: Evan White.

I answered on the third ring. "Evan?"

Angela." His voice carried the careful neutrality I'd come to associate with bad news. "I apologize for calling so late, but... it's Sean

fingers tightened on the phone.

He's had... quite a bit to drink." Evan

frowned. In all the years I'd known Sean, I'd never seen him truly drunk. Even at college parties, he'd maintained iron control,

said, trying to keep

here yet." Evan paused. “He's... not

unmistakable drawl. "I told

sharp rebuke carried clearly through the phone. Then his voice softened as he addressed me again. Angela, please... I

of me wanted to refuse, to let Christina handle this like William suggested. After all, wasn't

1/3

A Late Night

part of me, the part that still cared despite

there in

closet. lipped on a black coat over my clothes, not

my Porsche felt cold in my palm. I could have called Pet, our longtime driver, but something about this moment felt too

streets were relatively empty at this hour, the

onto Fifth Avenue, my mind wandered to earlier that day. Had Sean's uncharacteristic drinking been triggered

thought sent an unexpected warmth through my chest. Could

yellow cab swerved suddenly into my lane, forcing me to brake hard. The Porsche's tires squealed against wet pavement,

shaking on the

I whispered to myself.

I found a parking spot on Park Avenue, the cold night air biting through my silk blouse as I walked the remaining block to

was still active despite the late hour, clusters of Wall Street's elite lingering over last drinks and

familiar figure caught my eye Christina Jordan, hurrying toward the entrance in four-inch Louboutins, her red hair a flame

carried clearly across the quiet street. "Sean never drinks like

by genuine concern. "You think we didn't try to stop him? But, you know Sean -

"Some

elite businessmen

are," Christina scoffed, though her voice held more worry

college freshmen."

doorway, his usually immaculate appearance disheveled, tie loose

"Sean." Christina's