The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 296

h His Baby The Billionaire’s Secret Scandal 290

Chapter 290: Twisted Script Written By Fate

Angela POV

I paced the sterile hospital corridor, my borrowed clothes hanging loosely on my frame.

The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across the linoleum floor, making everything look washed out and unreal.

Sean sat on a plastic chair, his elbows resting on his knees, his wedding suit rumpled and stained with Christopher's blood.

The emergency room doors remained firmly shut. No matter how many times I approached the nurses' station, the answer was always the same: "The doctors are still working. We'll update you as soon as we can."

When David finally arrived, his face was pale with worry. His normally impeccable appearance was disheveled-tie askew, hair uncombed, as if he'd dropped everything and rushed over. His eyes widened when he saw us.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice strained.

Sean stood up, running a hand through his hair. "There was an incident at our wedding. A woman crashed the reception and attacked Angela with a knife. Christopher... he got between them."

"A woman?" David frowned. "Who?"

the name bitter on my tongue. The one who kidnapped me five

face. "The woman who kidnapped you back

exhaustion and worry. "Yes. She showed up at our wedding, claiming I had ordered someone to disfigure her face in prison." I looked at David directly. “She

took the knife that was meant for

forth, checking his watch every few minutes, his fingers drumming anxiously against his thigh-not the controlled behavior

brother.

forget her? Christopher was furious when you were kidnapped. He even paid some prison connections to teach that woman a lesson.” He hesitated, then added, "Christopher has his violent tendencies sometimes, but I've never seen him hurt a

widened. "So the scars on Jennifer's face... Christopher

know the specifics. He just

until was sitting on the floor, my mind racing. It all felt like some twisted script written by

fault," I whispered, my voice breaking. “If I hadn't invited

me, his

in front of that knife. He would do it again in a

darkened with rage. He paced the corridor like a caged animal, his hands clenching and

1/2

Script

and deadly. She'll spend the rest of her

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