Billionaire's Pregnant Ex-wife

"Who doesn't like cakes?" I told him in the calmest voice I could muster. "Children

and

adults alike love to eat cakes, don't they?" I added, looking away. If I wasn't wearing sunglasses, he would have seen the panic in my eyes.

"Everyone loves cake, but coffee and cake are a weird combination," he replied.

"They are not a weird combination," I said, disagreeing. "In fact, coffee shops usually sell coffee and cake together because they enhance each other's flavors."

Grey shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "I'm not trying to argue with you by bringing up the topic. I'm just saying that I know someone who loves mocha cake and coffee

together." There was a distant look in his eyes as he said the words, but whatever emotion I saw quickly disappeared as though it did not exist at all.

"If you don't mind, who is that someone you are referring to?" The words escaped my lips

before I could stop myself. It was too late to take them back; he had already heard

me.

"Someone I know," he whispered.

I'm just 'someone he knows,' not 'someone special,' which I had hoped he would at least

say. I thought to myself, hurt to realize that even after my so-called death, he didn't show

that he cared for me.

I looked away and turned my attention to my food. He got the message that I wasn't in the

mood to talk anymore and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

Despite the heavy feeling in my chest, I finished eating my food and drank my coffee. Leaning back in my seat, I looked out the window and watched the clouds. My hands

absentmindedly caressed my still-flat stomach.

Your daddy is here, baby, I subconsciously thought to myself as my hand rested on the spot where a life was growing inside me. Even though the child couldn't hear me, I continued speaking in my head. I'm sorry, baby; you will never have the chance to meet him when you come out. He doesn't care for us. He doesn't even know that you exist and that I am still

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alive.

It's selfish of me to keep you from your daddy, but how could he protect you when he couldn't even protect me when I was still with him?

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A soft sigh emerged from my lips. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, wishing that

when I opened them again, this flight would be over.

The heavens heard my prayers.

3

Hours later, I was awakened by the sound of excited voices coming from the passengers.

Abruptly, I straightened in my seat and looked out the window. It was still bright outside; however, when I checked the time on my wristwatch, I realized that I had slept for five hours straight, and I thanked God for that.

My gaze stole a glance at Grey's direction, only to catch him looking at me. I swallowed deeply and hard, wondering how long he had been staring at me.

Did he discover something while I was asleep? The questions crossed my mind. Fear and

unease instantly swelled inside me at the thought.

But Grey didn't look as though he had just discovered something. He slowly looked away

and didn't say anything before doing so.

"Calm down, Lily," I told myself to restrain my emotions. "If he discovered something

about you, he would have confronted you already. Grey is not the type to waste time when it

comes to things that intrigue him."

I was jolted out of my thoughts by a voice coming from the speaker.

"Ladies and gentlemen, A Airlines welcomes you to the city of France. The local time is 1:30 PM. For your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened and keep the aisles clear until we are parked at the gate." A soft female

voice announced.

I let out a sigh and told myself that I had to wait a few more minutes, and this ordeal would

finally be over. Grey and I would never meet again after this.

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A few minutes later, the plane safely landed at the airport. Hastily, I descended the flight of stairs and made a beeline straight to the baggage claim area.

Why do I have the feeling that Grey will approach me after this?

After taking my baggage from the counter, I skittered across the airport. But even after safely exiting the door, I still felt nervous and uncomfortable.

When my gaze turned to the door, I saw in time as Grey emerged through it. His gaze was clearly locked on me. Panic seized me as he strode in my direction.

My heartbeat thundered inside my chest. Fear froze me in my tracks, and my brain seemed to stop functioning at that particular moment. I knew I should escape before he reachednoveldrama

but my body refused to move.

me,

Summoning all the courage I could muster, I forced myself to walk away. However, I hadn't taken another step when Grey reached my side and grabbed

my hand.

"Who really are you?" he hissed under his breath. His piercing eyes were looking at me sharply.

"W-what are you talking about?" I gasped. I pulled my hand away from his touch, but he refused to let me go.

"Answer me," he said in a dangerously calm tone.

"Let me go! You're hurting me!" I cried.

Rather forcefully, I pulled my hand again, but he didn't even budge. His hands tightened around my wrists, showing no sign that he would let me go unless I answered his question.

"No, remove your sunglasses first, and I will let you go." It was not a plea but an order.

I drew a deep intake of breath.

Never! I told myself. Whatever happens, I will never take my sunglasses off.

"Are you insane?" I shot him a murderous glare. He couldn't see my eyes, but I was sure he

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felt that glare.

"Perhaps I am," he admitted calmly. "Just take your glasses off, and I will let you leave," He assured me. But I knew better. Once he saw me and discovered who I was, God only knows what he would do to me,

"Please let me go," I pleaded this time, hoping he would let me leave. But my pleas fell on deaf ears. He just stared at me as though he hadn't heard my words. "No. Just do what I say," he ordered.

I swallowed deeply and hard and finally made a decision. My left hand moved to remove my sunglasses. However, before I could take them off, someone grabbed my hand.

"Honey, who is that man?" A comforting male voice spoke beside me. My eyes shifted to him, and I found myself staring into a stranger's handsome face. His chiseled jawline was well-defined, standing out sharply as though it had been sculpted by an expert. His deep-seated eyes were very expressive, a woman's Achilles' heel, as I put it.

The man was tall, the same height as Grey, also broad-shouldered and muscular, and just as good-looking as he was. With them around and holding each of my hands, it was enough to attract attention from the curious crowd.

The man moved his other hand, and for the first time, I noticed the sign he was holding. 'Welcome home, Phoenix' was written in bold capital letters.

"Let go of my wife's hand," the man who just grabbed my hand ordered.