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

protective instincts apparently triggered by my scraped hands though he never pressed for details

had been overly paranoid. Maybe the man had only meant to frighten me, not

quite shake the memory of his knowing words about my pregnancy.

On.

in her hospital room that morning, all other

pillows, her silver hair perfectly

couldn't stop myself from adjusting her blankets for the third

fussing, dear," Elizabeth said fondly, reaching for my hand.

by the window, a gentle smile playing at her lips. In moments like these, I could

to love, “you

but Dr. Carter's appearance in the doorway cut

hand, even as the surgical team assembled

1/3

76: Christina

slipped around my waist, strong and steady, helping me find the

they prepared to wheel her through the surgical doors. Take care of each

my throat too tight for words. Sean's arm tightened around my waist as we watched the doors close behind

York Presbyterian's VIP surgical wing offered every luxury money could buy, hut nothing

the floor-to-ceiling windows, my forehead pressed against the cool glass

hand resting lightly on

for the third time in an hour, Victoria's perfectly manicured fingers drummed against the

should put

that on

argument, though I felt him tense slightly beside me. The surgical wing's indicator light glowed steadily.

shivering Sean murmured, shrugging off his suit jacket and craping it over my shoulders. The fabric carried

jacket and the steady presence beside me. His hand