The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife novel Chapter 67

The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire’s Ex–Wife

Chapter 67: Instagram Wars

Angela POV

The insistent buzz of my phone dragged me from sleep, Sophie’s name flashing across the screen. Sean’s side of the bed remained untouched from the night before. Obviously, he hadn’t come home–no doubt spending another night at the hospital with Christina.

“Have you seen it? Sophie’s voice crackled with barely contained fury. “Tell me you’ve seen what that manipulative little-

“Sophie,” I interrupted, pressing my fingers against my temple where a headache was already beginning to form. “It’s barely dawn. What are you talking about?”

“Christina’s Instagram post. Check it. Now.”

With a sigh, I pulled up the app, immediately spotting Christina’s latest update. The timestamp read 1:17 AM. The image showed a man in evening wear–though his face was partially obscured, his tall commanding figure was unmistakable–arranging fresh strawberries on a hospital bedside table.

The caption read: “Some people bring flowers. He searches the city at 1 AM to find my favorite fruit. #TrueLove #MyHero #BlessedAndGrateful

The comments section was already flooded with responses:

“This is what real love looks like!

“You two are literally perfect together!”

“OMG, he went looking for strawberries at 1 AM? That’s so romantic!

“Power couple goals!

My stomach churned, though whether from morning sickness or the sight before me, I couldn’t tell.

“Angela?” Sophie’s voice softened with concern. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here.” I kept my voice carefully neutral, even as my free hand unconsciously moved to rest on my still–flat stomach. “It’s just an

Instagram post, Sophie.”

“Just an Instagram- Sophie’s incredulous laugh cut through the line. “This is a calculated move and you know it. She’s marking her territory, making sure everyone sees her as the woman he truly loves. And after last night’s drama? The timing is no coincidence.”

I closed my eyes, remembering the shattered perfume bottles in our bathroom, the look on Sean’s face as he’d walked away. “None of

it matters anymore.”

“Angela Sophie’s voice caught. “You’re not feeling well again, are you? I’m coming over

“No, I- A wave of nausea hit me suddenly, forcing me to swallow hard. “I’m fine.”

‘I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

The private wing of the hospital was eerily quiet this early in the morning. Sophie’s designer heels clicked against the polished floor as she paced the examination room, her fashion editor’s eye critically assessing every detail of the supposedly luxury space.

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Chapter 67: Instagram Wars

“This is ridiculous, she muttered. “You’re Sean Shaw’s wife. You should be in the VIP suite, not this glorified closet.”

“Sophie, I warned quietly. The last thing I needed was her starting another scene. Last night’s drama at Christopher’s party was still fresh enough.

The door opened, admitting a young female doctor, her white coat immaculate despite the early hour. “Mrs. Shaw,” she greeted me with professional warmth. “What brings you in today?”

“I’ve been feeling unwell since morning,” I explained softly.

The young doctor’s eyes settled on me with gentle concern. “Any changes in diet? Stress levels?”

I almost laughed at that. Stress levels? Where would I even begin?

“The usual morning challenges,” I said instead, keeping my voice light. “Nothing serious.”

“I see.” She made a few notes on her tablet. “Well, given your condition, we should run some basic tests. And I’d strongly

recommend limiting sugar intake for now.”

After the examination, Sophie and I sat in her car, the privacy screens providing a moment of sanctuary from the outside world. She reached over and squeezed my hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I can’t believe him,” she said, her voice tight with anger. “His wife is here dealing with morning sickness, and where is he? Spending the night in the hospital with another woman.” She shook her head in disgust. “What kind of man neglects his pregnant wife like

this?”

“Sophie…” I started, but she cut me off.

“No, Angela. Don’t defend him. You’re carrying his child, and he’s out there playing knight in shining armor for Christina?” She took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. “Listen to me. You don’t have to go through this alone. I promise you, I’ll be here every step of the way. We’ll make sure this baby comes into the world healthy and strong, with or without Sean’s support.”

Her fierce protectiveness made my throat tight with emotion. For a moment, I couldn’t speak, just squeezed her hand back in silent gratitude.

“Now,” Sophie said, straightening her shoulders with determination, let’s go shopping. You need some new clothes that will keep you comfortable as the pregnancy progresses.”

We headed to her favorite luxury boutique. As we browsed through racks of designer dresses, her phone buzzed. Her expression darkened as she checked the screen.

“Have you heard?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Christina’s been posting more hospital updates. Apparently, the cut might leave a scar.” She paused meaningfully. “Some people are already suggesting it was a deliberate attack.”

I closed my eyes, suddenly exhausted. “Sophie, please.”

“I’m just saying, you need to be careful. Christina and her friends aren’t going to let this go. If she really ends up with a scar–they’ll use it against you. You know how these society women operate.”

I nodded slowly, remembering how Jennifer had lunged at me in the garden last night. The memory sent a chill down my spine.

She had been so aggressive, so unpredictable… I instinctively placed a protective hand over my stomach.

Sophie was right–I needed to be more careful now. Not just for my sake, but for my baby’s safety.

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Chapter 67: Instagram Wars

The apartment was silent when I returned that evening, my arms laden with shopping bags–retail therapy at Sophie’s insistence.

My phone, which I’d turned off hours ago to avoid the constant stream of social media notifications, showed multiple missed calls

from

Sean.

He was waiting in the foyer, his expression stormy. “Where have you been?”

“Shopping with Sophie.” I set the bags down carefully, noting how his jaw clenched at my casual tone. “My phone died.”

“All day?” His voice carried an edge of disbelief. “You’ve been unreachable all day?”

“Is

know

turned to face him, my voice deliberately calm. “If this there

you needed?” 1 something urgent

anymore.” Jennifer and her slander not that I’ve decided to care about