The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 76

Chapter 76: Christina Is Missing!

Angela Pov

"Angela?" Sean's voice was tentative as he ended the call. We were sl in the elevator, and I could feel his ey

eyes studying my farm,

You look pale. Are you feeling alright?"

I managed a small nod, though my scraped palms still stung beneath their

bandages. Before I could respond, Sean cleared his throat, a hint of apology in his voice.

"About Christina... she's still in the hospital, so I need to

You d

don't need to explain, I cut him off, forcing a smile that felt lle even to me,

Looking at his concerned expression, I made a decision. I wouldn't tell him about the attack, or my suspicions about Christina's possible involvement.

Without concrete evidence, he would never believe me. He loved Christina too much to even consider she might be capable of such things.

The drive home was quiet, Manhattan's evening traffic creating a cocoon of silence around us. His earlier tenderness in the already felt like a fading dream, dissolving like mist in the harsh light of reality.

The next few days fell into a pattern.

office

insisted on driving me to and from work, his protective instincts apparently triggered by my scraped hands though he never pressed for details

mysterious men appeared, no more threats were made. Perhaps I had been overly paranoid. Maybe the man had only meant to frighten

let my guard down, though I couldn't quite shake the memory of his knowing words

On.

room that morning, all other concerns faded

against pristine pillows, her silver hair perfectly coiffed

adjusting her blankets

for my hand.

In moments like these, I could almost forget the complexity of my position in the Shaw

gentle authority I'd grown to love, “you look pale. Have you been taking

mouth to reassure her, but Dr. Carter's appearance in the doorway cut me off.

Elizabeth's hand, even as the

1/3

Christina Is

and steady, helping

wheel her through the surgical doors.

throat too tight for words. Sean's arm tightened around my waist as

waiting area of New York Presbyterian's VIP surgical wing offered every luxury money could

forehead pressed against

resting lightly on the

Sean's phone buzzed for the third time in an hour,

you should put

that on silent,

though I felt him tense slightly beside me. The surgical wing's indicator light glowed steadily. marking the hours

craping it over my shoulders. The

the jacket and the steady presence beside me. His