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,

sliding into a new 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 at the softness

has your temper," I whispered to Angela, who managed

Ethan, calmer but no less miraculous. He looked directly at me, his unfocused newborn eyes somehow seeming to

that transcended blood, transcended sense.

moment, they became mine in

said softly. "I'm going

myself. A vow more binding

blurred into days in an endless cycle

ecious moments

struggled with postpartum depression, sometimes staring blankly at the wall for hours while I tended to the twins. Other days she was manic with energy, reorganizing the nursery at midnight or cooking elaborate meals no one had the appetite

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295: Became Uncle

help, fut Angels

my babies,' shed insisted, dark circles under her eyes, hair downed the ban. 1 tend to

exhausted. I'd argued gently. Just three nights a week,

difference. Slowly, the Angels 16 fallen in love with began to resurface- laughing again, singing to the twins, ning me for evering deer of wine on the torres

fallen asleep.

time the twins turned one, we'd established a routine that wed. My business required occasional

first tantrums. I documented everything, filling albums with

me reviewing footage of Ethan's first successful attempt

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

grew, so did our

traditions-Sunday morning pancakes, summer picnics by the lake, bedtime stories that grew more

master this new skill Angela taught Aria to dance, twirling

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 could be if Angela ever saw me as more

a friend.

were moments I thought it might happen. Late nights on the terrace, wine loosening our usual boundaries, when our conversation would drift into more intimate territory. Times when