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

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

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

On.

in her hospital room that morning, all other concerns faded away. Nothing mattered

against pristine pillows, her silver

myself from adjusting her blankets

hand.

her position by the window, a gentle smile playing at her lips. In moments like these, I could almost forget the complexity of

voice carried that gentle authority I'd grown to love,

opened my mouth to reassure her, but Dr. Carter's appearance in the doorway cut me off. "Mrs. Shaw?

couldn't make myself let go of Elizabeth's hand,

1/3

76: Christina

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

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

words. Sean's arm tightened around my waist as

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

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

close, one hand resting lightly on the small of

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

put

on

tense slightly beside me. The surgical wing's indicator light glowed steadily. marking

off his suit jacket and craping it over my shoulders. The fabric carried his warmth and familiar scent, and I found

beside me. His hand found mine again, our fingers intertwining with practiced