The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife novel Chapter 180

Ex–Wife

Chapter 180: You’re Burning Hot-

Angela POV

I tucked the comforter around Aria and checked on Ethan who was already fast asleep. After turning off the main light and leaving only the nightlight on, I stepped out of their room.

For a moment, I lingered in the doorway, savoring the quiet perfection of this scene–my children safe and content. These precious moments were what sustained me through everything else.

Just as I was about to retreat to my own bedroom, the doorbell shattered the silence. At this hour? I hurried to the security panel, my pulse quickening as I checked the camera feed.

Sean Shaw stood at my door, his tall frame unmistakable even in the dim hallway lighting.

“Why is he here?” I whispered to myself, checking my watch. It was nearly midnight. We’d just finalized negotiations on the co- parenting agreement at Shaw Tower earlier today. What could possibly be so urgent?

I hesitated, finger hovering over the intercom. Through the camera, watched as Sean’s shoulders slumped slightly after waiting. He turned, apparently giving up, when I finally pressed the unlock button.

“This better be important,” I muttered, opening the door just as he was about to walk away.

He spun around, genuine surprise flickering across his face. “You opened.”

“It’s midnight,” I said flatly.

are you here? Is there an emergency?”

“Walked wrong,” he mumbled, avoiding my gaze.

I frowned, noticing his flushed skin and labored breathing. “Why are you breathing like that? What were you doing?”

“Nothing. I’ll go.” His words slurred slightly.

Something was definitely wrong. Without thinking, I stepped forward and pressed my palm against his forehead leat radiated from

his skin.

“You’re burning up. What happened? You were perfectly fine during our meeting at Shaw Tower earlier. Did you suddenly develop

fever? I should call Dr. Carter to examine you.”

Before I could reach for my phone, Sean lurched forward, wrapping his arms around me in an unexpected embrace. I froze, caught completely off guard by the sudden contact,

“No doctor,” he murmured against my hair.

“Why not? You’re clearly unwell-”

“Not fever,” he interrupted.

“What do you mean? You’re burning hot-”

“Christina,” he managed to say, his

voice strained.

The pieces clicked into place with startling clarity. It wasn’t a fever. Christina Jordan had drugged him. The realization sent a cold wave of anger through me, mingled with something else I refused to acknowledge.

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1/3

Chapter 180: You’re Burning Hot-

I laughed bitterly. “So you’ve been drugged, and you came to me? What exactly did you expect me to do about it?”

“Don’t know,” he admitted, still holding onto me as if I were an anchor. “Only you… couldn’t think of anyone else.”

“Couldn’t think of anyone else?” I pushed him away, incredulous. “I’m sure the Shaw family has plenty of women at their disposal. Why come to me?”

His emerald eyes fixed on mine, surprisingly lucid despite his condition. “Only wanted… you.”

The audacity! I stepped back, fury replacing my initial concern.

“And what exactly would I be able to do for you in this state? Given cur current relationship, did you really think I would help?”

I tightened my grip on the doorknob. “Go find somewhere else to deal with your problem. I don’t need this drama. The children are sleeping!”

I slammed the door shut, leaning against it as my heart raced traitorously in my chest. Through the peephole, I watched Sean sway unsteadily in the hallway, looking lost and unusually vulnerable.

His color had worsened in the few seconds since I’d closed the door. He leaned heavily against the wall, eyes closed, breathing in shallow gasps.

Damn it.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled the door open again. “Come in. I’ll get you some water while we figure this out.”

He looked up, disbelief written across his features. “You… will?”

“Don’t misunderstand,” I said coolly. “I’m only doing this because we’ve agreed to co–parent. I can’t have you collapsing outside my

door. If anything happened to you after I turned you away, it would complicate things for the children. That’s all.”

I led him to the living room, gesturing toward the Italian designer sofa. “Sit. I’ll get you some water.”

“Cold,” he called after me, his voice rough. “Ice.”

I paused. “Ice water? In March?”