The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 150

Chapter 150: Old Feelings Die Hard

Sean POV

I stood frozen in the doorway of my Four Seasons penthouse suite, watching Angela storm away without a word. The elevator doors slid shut on her retreating figure, leaving confusion swirling in my mind.

What the hell just happened?

One minute we were dissecting investment proposals, the next she was bolting like I'd set the room on fire.

Her sudden shift gnawed at me. Unless... Had Christopher Blake gotten to her? The thought ignited a blaze of anger in my chest, my hands curling into fists.

No one meddled in my affairs-and Angela, despite our tangled history, was still mine to handle. This wasn't over.

My lips pressed into a hard line as I strode toward the elevator, determined to catch her before she slipped away. Whatever had sparked this, I'd drag the truth out of her tonight.

My phone buzzed relentlessly in my pocket, halting my pursuit. I yanked it out, answering with a sharp,

"What?"-my voice a blade of cold authority.

Silence stretched for a beat before a tentative female voice broke through.

"Sean, it's me."

"Christina." Not a question-a fact.

"Yes. You sound upset. Is something wrong?" Her tone softened. "I've been calling, but you didn't answer."

My mind sharpened instantly. "You've been calling me repeatedly?"

didn't pick up, I got worried," she said, her voice

calls from Christina lighting up the screen like a

Her abrupt exit

I ordered,

sorry, Sean. I was

off. "If something had happened, how would spamming my phone help? You'd just drain my battery

I ended the call and shoved the phone back into my pocket, my strides purposeful as I hit the

just tipped her hand-she still cared. A flicker of satisfaction curled

parking garage loomed dim and shadowed. I spotted her instantly-her slender frame cutting through the gloom toward her

1/3

150: Old Feelings

As she yanked the car door open, I slammed it shat with one farceful sherre, pinning het betre the cold metal in

squirmed, her hands shoving against my

snapped, her voice tight. Her eyes darted to whet my fingers

wasn't having it. My free hand shot up, gripping her chin firmly, furing her head back

need to talk to

lips parted, breath hitching.

from my suite like it was a crime scene, I said, "Was it those calls

I care about your

pressed, my thumb brushing the edge of her lip, feeling the

shot back too fast,

against the car. My cock stirred at the feel of

my grip on her wrist, the other hand sliding from her chin to brace against the window, caging

anything," I murmured, voice dropping to a possessive growl, "why'd you turn to ice up there? Don't play me for a

fuck, it was intoxicating. Her breasts pressed against my chest as she fought

she was carved for me. My