The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 56

The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 56: Who's Protecting Her Now?

Sean POV

Emily's message flashed across my phone screen: "Angela's in trouble. Some men tried to... Please hurry!"

My blood ran cold. The quarterly reports scattered across my desk, the conference call droning in my earpiece-none of it mattered. I ripped off my headset and grabbed my coat, already calling for the elevator.

"Caficel everything," I barked at Michael as I strode past his desk. "Have security track Angela's phone. Now."

The drive to the Sapphire Hotel was a blur of red lights and honking horns.

Every second felt like an eternity.

I kept seeing Angela's face, imagining what could have happened, what might be happening right now. Just imagining it made my hands grip the steering wheel harder.

When I finally reached the penthouse floor, my tie was loose, my suit wrinkled-a far cry from my usual polished appearance. But I couldn't have cared less about how I looked.

All that mattered was finding her.

The sight that greeted me as I burst through the door stopped me dead in my tracks.

There she was-my wife-wrapped in another man's embrace. The stranger's back was to me, but I'd know that lean frame anywhere!

Nathan Harrison.

The ambitious young analyst who'd been hovering around Angela for months. The same one I'd caught her calling "baby" just days

ago.

to life inside me. "Angela," I snapped, my voice cutting through

her head, surprise flickering across her features, but made no move to leave his arms. If anything, his grip

crossed the room in three long strides. Before I

with his jaw. The impact sent him

around, and my blood

"Christopher?"

out of countless scrapes during our college years-spread. across

Still leading with your fist, I

best friend from Andover, my roommate at Yale, the man who'd stood beside me through every major

"When did you...

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56: Who's Protecting Her

words died in my throat as Christopher finally

got in from London this afternoon," he explained, his British accent slightly more pronounced after his years in the City. "Imagine

to Angela, who had moved

The name came out like a growl. "What happened

rubbing her arm. Angry red

made my vision blur

for a while." He gestured to the spread of refreshments on the coffee table. "Why don't we sit down?

eyes off Angela. She was trying to hide it, but I could see the slight tremor in her

held just a fraction

firmly. "We'll catch up tomorrow. Right now, I'm

Christopher's face, but he nodded. "Of course. Dinner tomorrow then?

toward Angela. I placed my hand at the small of her back, guiding her toward the door. She stiffened at my touch but didn't pull

into the elevator, however, she shrugged off my hand. "Emily," she said, her voice tight with worry. "Is she okay? Where is

cab home," I answered, studying her reflection in the mirrored

was bitter, cutting. "Fine? You let her go home alone