The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

is Baby The Billionaire’s Secret Scandal 295

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The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Chapter 295: Became Uncle Christopher

Christopher POV

It was winter when I brought Angela to Italy. Angela was four month pregnant then, her belly just beginning to round beneath her

oversized sweaters.

I'd purchased a modest villa in the Italian countryside. Nothing too stentatious-l wanted her comfortable, not overwhelmed.

The locals quickly accepted us as a young couple expecting their first child. Well, children. We learned about the twins during her first ultrasound in Italy.

"Twins," the doctor had said in accented English, pointing the grainy screen. "Due in summer."

Angela's face had paled. I remember reaching for her hand, feeling if tremble in mine. Two babies. Neither of us had expected that.

"We'll manage," I told her on the drive home. "I'll hire help. Whatever you need."

She'd just nødded, staring out the window at the passing countryside her hand resting protectively over her stomach.

The months that followed were a blur of preparations-assembling two of everything, reading every book on twin births I could find, converting an entire wing of the villa into a nursery.

wanted everything perfect for them. Perfect for her.

They arrived in July, during a heatwave that had the whole region sweating and irritable. Angela had been uncomfortable for weeks, her ankles swollen, her patience thin. When her water broke at three in the morning, I nearly crashed the car rushing her to the hospital.

that had displaced her. Ethan followed seven minutes later, quieter but with a gaze that seemed to take in everything. I stood by Angela's side through it all, holding her hand, wiping her brow, feeling

configuration. She was tiny, her face red and scrunched in protest, her fists balled tightly as if ready to fight. I touched her cheek with one finger, marveling

your temper," I whispered to

looked directly at me, his

transcended blood,

that moment, they became mine in every

said softly. "I'm going to take care of

to Angela, to myself. A vow more

first year was the hardest. Nights blurred into days in an endless cycle of feedings, diaper

ecious moments

wall for hours while I tended to the twins. Other days she was manic with energy, reorganizing the

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295: Became

night nurse to help, fut Angels

her eyes, hair downed the ban. 1 tend to be

argued gently. Just three nights a week, for

with began to resurface- laughing again, singing to the twins, ning me for evering deer of wine

fallen asleep.

established a routine that wed. My business

first tantrums. I documented everything, filling albums with photos that

teased once, finding me reviewing footage of Ethan's first successful

off the screen. In the video, my voice could be beard cheering Ethan on, ridiculous with enthusiasm over something so small. But

so did

by the

his tiny body in the water while he kicked frantically, determined to master this new skill Angela taught Aria to dance, twirling her around the living room to old jazz

were married. "Your husband," they'd say to Angela, or "your wife" to me. Neither of us corrected them. It was easier that way, and part of me liked the pretense, the glimpse into what

a friend.

nights on the terrace, wine loosening our usual boundaries, when our conversation would drift into more