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?"

she said, her voice syrupy. "I kept trying. You're not angry, are

phone-missed calls from Christina lighting up

seen it. Her abrupt exit clicked into

like that again," I ordered, my tone leaving no

sorry, Sean. I was just

cut her off. "If something had happened, how would spamming my phone help?

I didn't wait for more. "I have bigger things to deal with." I ended the call and shoved the phone back

still cared. A flicker of satisfaction curled my lips. Her jealousy was a confession scrawled in

her instantly-her slender frame cutting through

1/3

Old Feelings Die

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

her hands shoving against my

tight. Her eyes darted to whet my fingers damped her wrist, but she twisted her face empy. refusing to meet my

chin firmly, furing her

to talk

lips parted, breath hitching. "Fine.

it was a crime scene, I said, "Was it those calls on my

I care about your

pressed, my thumb brushing the edge of her

fast, her defiance brittle.

hips pinning hers against the car. My cock stirred at the feel of her body wriggling against

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

dropping to a possessive growl, "why'd you turn to ice up there? Don't

scent-jasmine and heat-flooded my senses, and fuck, it was intoxicating. Her breasts pressed against my chest as she fought to pull away, and I felt the blood rush south, my cock hardening against her

mine, like she was carved for me. My breath came heavier, desire tangling