The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife novel Chapter 104

Chapter 104: Their Children Must Be The Same Age As

Mine–1

Angela POV

I clutched David Chen’s offered arm as we navigated through the crowded entrance of

Sotheby’s.

The opulent auction hall buzzed with Manhattan’s elite–faces I hadn’t seen in five years but who clearly remembered me, if their whispers and sidelong glances were any

indication.

“Ms. Wilson, I apologize for the last–minute change,” David said in his perfectly modulated voice. “Mr. Blake was called into an urgent meeting. He’s asked me to

accompany you tonight.”

“It’s fine, David,” I replied. “Christopher has more important things to attend to than a charity auction.”

David nodded respectfully. “Ms. Wilson, your seat is in the private box upstairs. Mr. Blake

arranged it specifically.”

The auctioneer tapped his microphone, drawing the room’s attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve concluded our regular offerings and now move to tonight’s highlight–original Monet.”

I settled into my seat, grateful for the relative privacy of the box as bidding began. Numbers flew across the room, wealth displayed in casual seven–figure increments.

“Six million dollars from Mr. Shaw!” the auctioneer announced with barely contained

excitement. “Do I hear six point five?”

Could it really be him?

I scanned the room frantically, my eyes darting between faces, but couldn’t spot him

anywhere. He must be in one of the private boxes, like me–hidden from the general audience but very much present.

But what would I even do if I saw him?

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Chapter 104: Their Children Must Be The Same Age As Mine–1

What could I possibly say after five years of silence?

“Mr. Shaw increases his bid to six point five million!” the auctioneer called out again, the name striking me like a physical blow each time it was uttered.

My fingers clutched the armrest, knuckles turning white as that name–the one I had avoided speaking for five years–sliced through my composure like a blade through silk.

The room suddenly felt airless, oxygen replaced by memories I’d fought so hard to

suppress.

David leaned closer, concern evident in his expression. “Ms. Wilson, are you alright?

You’ve gone quite pale.”

“Just…a bit lightheaded,” I managed, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears. “I

think I need some air.”

“Would you like me to accompany you?” David asked, already half–rising from his seat.

I shook my head. “No, please stay. I’ll just step out for a moment.”

My legs felt unsteady as I made my way to the exit, my heart hammering against my ribs with each step.

The corridor outside was empty. I leaned against the wall, eyes closed, willing my pulse to slow. Winter rain fell gently beyond the windows, the carpet near the entrance damp from guests‘ footsteps.

I wrapped my cashmere shawl tighter around my shoulders, the New York winter far harsher than the mild Tuscan climate I’d grown accustomed to.

The chill in the air matched the one in my memories–my last encounter with Sean had been during another winter, in another lifetime.

Five years, I thought, pressing my palm against my forehead. I’ve built a new life, I have Aria and Ethan, I’ve moved on. Why am I still affected like this?

Taking a deep breath, I straightened, wiping away the cold sweat that had formed on my brow. I turned to walk toward the ladies‘ room when a tall figure stepped into my path.

“Excuse me,” I murmured

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