Billionaire's Pregnant Ex-wife novel Chapter 95

A voice inside me reasoned, shattering my illusion that my son was still alive. Summoning all the courage I could muster, I grabbed the phone and stared at the screen once more. A soft whimper tore from my parted lips, and tears drifted down my flushed cheeks as my eyes surveyed the child’s hazel–green eyes that reminded me so much of my ex–husband.

He looked so much like him! I sobbed, clutching the phone tightly in my shaking fingers. He was just thinner, as though he hadn’t been eating well, and his hair was long, as though it hadn’t been cut for years. But despite those minor differences, he indeed resembled Dylan. He even had the mole my son had on the side of his eye.

Thinking about my son now made old wounds open up. Pain violently hammered my chest until it felt tight, and I had difficulty breathing. Years had passed, and yet I still hadn’t moved on from the pain of losing my firstborn. Perhaps I would carry the pain with me for

the rest of my life, I thought to myself.

I finally stopped looking at the picture and lowered my phone. Taking a deep breath, I released it into a deep sigh. I repeated the inhale and exhale process until my emotions calmed down a bit. I wiped the wetness from my cheeks with the back of my palm, thinking that whoever sent the picture through email was trying to achieve something, and whatever that was would ultimately reveal itself soon.

A soft knock sounded on the wooden door, jolting me out of my deep thoughts. Hastily composing myself, I rose from the sofa. I self–consciously ran my fingers through my hair to tame the strands before skittering to the door. A maid stood outside, holding an invitation letter in her hands. After handing me the invitation, she left.

I checked the sender and realized it had come from Grey.

Closing the door, I returned to the sofa and peeled open the white envelope. I took the note

inside.

Grey was inviting me to a dinner date.

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What was he thinking? I gasped incredulously. How could he think I would accept his invitation when I wasn’t even replying to any of his text messages?

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Without a second thought, I ripped the invitation into a hundred pieces and let the scraps drop to the pristine white floor like confetti.

No way! I blurted out loud.

My phone rang, and I abruptly picked it up. Without thinking or glancing at the screen, I answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Have you received my invitation?” A familiar voice asked from the other line. My temples instantly scrunched in irritation.

“I did, Mr. Bradford, but I already have a romantic date next week and I am fully booked

this month, Maybe you could try asking me out after a couple of years or after a decade!” After telling him that, I turned off the phone,

After that, Grey miraculously didn’t call me back.

What a relief, I thought to myself.

The next morning, I finally returned to my normal routine in the office. The upsetting

email incident was temporarily forgotten.

Mom and Dad tried to talk me out of going to work before I left the house, but I had made up my mind, and they couldn’t stop me.

I arrived at my office early. My secretary hadn’t arrived yet, so I waited for her to show up. A soft knock sounded on the door of my office.

Finally, my secretary’s here, I thought to myself, ready to tell her the instructions still on my mind.

Soon the door opened, and instead of my secretary, it was Grey who strode inside. He was

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wearing a fine business suit that could make a woman drool just by looking at him. I almost drooled too, but I was far more irritated by his presence to even appreciate how good he

looked

“We need to talk,” he told me, a grave expression plastered on his handsome face.

“Aren’t we talking?” I bit back, crossing my arms underneath my breasts and slightly

tilting my chin up in a defiant manner.

“I’m not playing with you, Lily,” he replied.

“I’m not playing either.”

“Then stop talking to me that way.” He was irritated, and it showed all over his face.

“I’m not going with you. I made it clear yesterday.”

“That’s not what I came here for,” he said, and that stopped me.

I lifted my scrunched eyebrows toward him. After a moment of hesitation, I quietly asked, “What did you come here for, then?” This time my voice was much calmer.

Without giving me an invitation, he sat down in the chair opposite mine. Picking his phone from the pocket of his coat, he showed me a picture.

“Someone sent me this picture last night. This little boy looks so much like Dylan.” The mention of our little boy made his voice crack.

My eyes instantly widened as my gaze landed on the image. It was a different picture taken in a different place, but the little boy was the same.

“Someone sent me this picture too,” I murmured breathlessly, trying to calm the turmoil inside me. To prove it to him, I picked up my phone and showed him the picture I had

saved.

“We have the same sender,” he said after seeing the name.

“Do you think it’s possible that the child is…?” I paused, unable to finish the words as tears

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Chapter 95

welled in my eyes.

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“We both know Dylan’s dead. It could be selfish for us to wish he was that boy, but I was hoping the same. I’d give everything I have now in exchange for his life.”

Silence lapsed inside the office. None of us spoke. We just let it be that way until a knock

sounded on the door, informing me that my secretary had just arrived.