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The Night I Left Him, I Was Carrying His heir

Chapter 2 

Word Count: 864    |    Released on: 13/07/2026

akfast fit for royalty. Fresh orange juice, croissants, smo

e white silk blouse and black trousers, lookin

ctly tailored navy suit, a physical copy of the Financial Time

retch between them like a frozen strait. She reached

ith a crisp rustle. His p

e Children's Foundation ch

nt, chewed, swallowed, then looked

t pl

googling 'husband returns after six months and

gainst the mahogany table

feet from her plate. "Your father's firm is preparing for a new round of fu

e. "Julian, my dad's little firm doesn't make enough in a year to cover your watch habit. You wan

dgment. He sounded genuinely curious when

t in your study. If you pull funding from my dad, I'll buy a knockoff, swap

grin

Then he unfolded his paper again. "Driver

filled her cup, raising it toward him in

ing Julian's request, stopped at a café on Ma

Sinc

p to find a blonde woman in a cream trench coat standing

column regular. And according to ever

up "accident

white blouse. Isabelle gasped, fumbled for nap

y of me! Are y

leeve, then back up. "Do you k

I

eraphina sighed. "Next time you want to spill coffee on

flickered, but sh

t got back. You must be exhausted. He spent the last six months in Europe

ersonal thing, and he handled three months of my credit ca

omach and lowering her voice just enough for nearby tables to hear: "We're both

Then back at her face. "So y

with triumph-right befo

ould sit dow

ha

omach, not your uterus." Seraphina took a sip of her latte. "If you actually were pregnant, that st

used.

re ac

cked. She stepped back,

ou're going to stage a fall, at least commit. That move was sloppy. If yo

t quiet for

d leaned in to murmur: "Next time, rehearse. You've g

d her coffee, and walked ou

ow, shaking, already on the ph

didn't l

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The Night I Left Him, I Was Carrying His heir
The Night I Left Him, I Was Carrying His heir
“Seraphina's plan was simple and clinical: get pregnant with her absent billionaire husband's superior DNA, then finalize the divorce for a clean break. But after six months of a cold, empty marriage, Julian Sinclair suddenly returned. He didn't come back to sign the papers-he brought his pregnant mistress, Isabelle, with him. In a high-end boutique, Isabelle staged a dramatic fall, faking a miscarriage and pointing a trembling finger at Seraphina. "She pushed me, Julian! She tried to kill our baby!" Julian publicly sided with his mistress, looking at his wife with cold disgust before carrying Isabelle to the hospital. Yet, when Seraphina later offered to walk away and leave him to his freedom, his eyes turned into chips of ice. "Sinclairs don't get divorced," he whispered, caging her against the bedroom wall. "They become widowers." Seraphina was left trembling in pure terror and confusion. He clearly loved Isabelle and punished Seraphina like a disposable pawn, so why trap her in this loveless nightmare? Why hold onto her with such violent, suffocating possessiveness when he already had what he wanted? Pushed to the brink of despair, she got blackout drunk at a local lounge, loudly declaring she was going to steal his DNA and run. But before she could escape into the night with the help of another man, the heavy steel doors blew open. Julian stood there, a furious monster stepping out of the shadows to violently reclaim his wife, proving that her fight for freedom had only just ignited his darkest obsession.”