The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

Angela POV

I watched in horror as Christopher's eyes slowly closed. My heart pounded against my ribs, fear washing over me in cold waves. This couldn't be happening. Not here, not today.

"Christopher!" I called his name, my voice breaking. “Christopher, stay with me!"

His eyelids fluttered, then opened again, though barely. Those amber eyes-so similar to my own-struggled to focus on my face. His lips, stained with blood, curved into the faintest smile.

"I'm sorry, Angela," he whispered, each word costing him visible effort. "I messed up again."

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he spoke, running down his chin and neck. The sight of it made my stomach clench.

"Don't talk," I urged, pressing harder on his wound. "Save your strength. The ambulance will be here any minute."

need. His hand found mine,

"Things that might not get another chance." He paused, grimacing in pain. I couldn't see you before because I didn't know how to face you. I never should have forced you to stay with me.

his jaw tightening. "You bastard," he growled. "I'm not accepting your apology. Since you know you were wrong, you need to get better. You need to make amends for what you did." His voice grew louder, more intense. "You stabbed me twice, for God's sake. You need to recover so I can beat the hell

my skin. "And when you're better," I added, "I want a formal

laugh. "I don't think I'll recover from this one," he said quietly. "I heard you got your memory back... that's good. I have no regrets left. If you can't forgive me, I understand. I don't

could hear the strain beneath his mockery. "Your men stabbed me twice

his mouth. His grip on my wrist weakened, and his eyes-those eyes that had

through me. "Christopher?

still alive," he said, but the

paramedics burst through the doors, equipment in hand. They moved swiftly, assessing Christopher's condition with practiced efficiency. Moments later, they were loading him onto a stretcher, attaching monitors and inserting