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Chapter 87

Author: Scribe
last update publish date: 2026-07-08 15:29:03

Sarah

Marcus’s Parents are seated at a secluded round table in the back corner of the restaurant, bathed in the soft, amber glow of a low-hanging chandelier. Even from a distance, the family resemblance is striking. Arthur Kane possesses the same sharp, aristocratic jawline as Marcus, though his hair is dusted with silver, and his posture carries the heavy, unyielding gravity of a man who has commanded boardrooms for forty years. Beside him sits Eleanor Kane, a woman who looks as though she wer
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  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 88: It’s Real

    Sarah“It was good to see you again.” My words come out so quick they sound all jumbled as I stand up from my seat. I give them both an apologetic smile. I was really looking forward to catching up with them, but I’m seconds away from losing Beck’s retreating form in the crowd of diners.“We’ll speak with you later, darling,” Beck’s mom says, giving me a soft smile. I give them one last wave before I rush toward the exit. Beck disappeared in the few seconds it took me to say goodbye to his parents. When I fly out the front doors of the building, I’m disappointed when I don’t see Beck anywhere. My heart thumps in my chest as I look in every direction, trying to find where he went.Fighting past the panic of where he went, worried about how angry he was and him being alone, I pick a direction and search for his body through the throng of people. He’s nowhere in sight. I stop in front of a narrow alleyway, pulling my phone from my handbag in hopes I’ll be able to get ahold of him.I’m a

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 87

    SarahMarcus’s Parents are seated at a secluded round table in the back corner of the restaurant, bathed in the soft, amber glow of a low-hanging chandelier. Even from a distance, the family resemblance is striking. Arthur Kane possesses the same sharp, aristocratic jawline as Marcus, though his hair is dusted with silver, and his posture carries the heavy, unyielding gravity of a man who has commanded boardrooms for forty years. Beside him sits Eleanor Kane, a woman who looks as though she were sculpted from fine porcelain. Her pearls are flawless, her tailored cream blazer immaculate, and her posture perfectly rigid.As we approach, Arthur looks up first. A sharp, knowing smile cuts across his face. Eleanor’s gaze follows, her eyes instantly dropping to our intertwined hands before sweeping up to take in my outfit, my hair, and my expression.My stomach does a nervous little flip. *Here we go.*“Marcus,” Arthur says, rising to his feet with a powerful presence that mirrors his son's

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife    Chapter 86: In-laws

    Sarah“Maybe this isn’t the best idea,” I say in a rush, my words coming out jumbled.Marcus stops in the middle of the sidewalk. His hand tightens around mine as he pulls me through the crowd of people walking, stopping us in a secure nook between two shops. His eyebrows knit together in a frown. “Why are you saying this?”I take a deep breath, wondering if the outfit I’d picked out was a good idea. I’d opted for a jumper I’d got from the shopping spree I’d had with Marcus. It’s a plaid pattern with black and emerald green details. Underneath, I wear a sheer black bodysuit with a high neckline, and I’ve paired it with a long camel colored trench coat to stay warm in the brisk night air. To cover my legs, I chose a pair of sheer black stockings and a pair of kitten heels. I adore everything about the outfit. It’s just now that I’m moments away from coming face to face with my ex’s parents only to tell them I’m now engaged to their other son, it seems weird. How the hell does one dress

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 85: He Must Not Know

    Christian“He’s not filing until the day before your anniversary,” I say, tapping the legal document on the screen. “November the second. That’s, what, a week from tomorrow?”Genevieve nods quickly, aggressively chewing on a manicured nail.“So the real question is: What do we do right now?”“I’ll tell you what I’d like to do,” she says, her eyes flashing with a sudden, dark intensity. “I’d like to break his fucking neck.”I pause, letting the silence stretch between us. I look at her closely. “And what if that actually happened?”Genevieve blinks, her entire expression shifting, the manic energy freezing solid.“You’ve always said you care about him,” I press softly, testing the waters. “How much do you actually care about him, Gen?”Genevieve walks slowly over to the window, her back to me as she looks out over the gray, shadowed alleyway below. My guess is she’s spent the last forty-five minutes of her drive over here asking herself that exact same question.“If he dies suddenly,”

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 84: Competition

    ChristianI come into work like every morning. A quick, easy hello to my receptionist, Emily, and then I walk straight into my private office.As I am not actually a financial guy, I don’t really need this office space, but appearances are appearances in this game. Besides, I’ll go completely crazy spending the entire day at home by myself. A change of scenery is nice. It keeps the edges sharp.Sometimes I do actually work while I'm sitting here. Though “work” for me isn’t checking the stock markets and forecasting high-yield investments; it’s scouting for fresh targets and considering other wealthy cities for my next venture. But now that I’ve found Genevieve and her twenty-one million dollars, I won’t need any other targets. I’m going to be completely done soon. Retirement is right around the corner.For Emily—a nineteen-year-old I pulled from a local temp agency who is going to college part-time—I play the exact same role I play for Genevieve: a rich, genius money guy who only hand

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 83: Dread

    Genevieve I wake from a nightmare, the sound of my own anguished cry fading away into the quiet corners of the house as I force my eyes open. Sunlight is already streaming through the gaps in the heavy curtains. Sitting up quickly in bed, I reach for my phone on the nightstand to check the time. It’s nearly nine in the morning.I stretch my aching limbs, use the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, and finally walk out of the master bedroom. As I step into the quiet hallway, I notice the light is still burning bright under the door of Julian’s home office. I can’t help but let out a soft smile. He knows exactly how much I hate wasting electricity, how much I still pinch pennies out of habit—a stubborn vestige of my years spent living paycheck to paycheck before our lives changed. Sometimes, I genuinely think he leaves the lights on just to needle me, a petty little inside joke between the two of us.I head downstairs to the kitchen, expecting the usual routine. But when I r

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 18: A Little Help

    Marcus“I’m sure you can figure it out,” I say harshly.She lets out a groan. “I can barely reach. I don’t think I can get out of this on my own.”My eyes rush to the door of the suite. Maybe Margo will return any minute and come to Sarah’s rescue. Except deep down, I know better. When she left, sh

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 17: Blurred Lines

    MarcusSarah’s beauty is as equally captivating as it is frustrating.As Margo fusses over one of the many outfits she’s tried on, I continue to pretend to focus on my phone. Sitting in this dressing room while Sarah plays dress-up is the last thing I should be doing right now. I’ve got a never-end

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 5: Silence

    JulianThe door clicked shut behind Sarah.Julian stood frozen, one hand still gripping the back of the chair like it was the only thing keeping him upright. On the table, steam still curled lazily from the plate of Jollof rice and suya she had prepared. The smell filled the kitchen — rich, spiced

  • Winning Back My Pregnant Wife   Chapter 4: Divorce Papers

    Sarah “How much did you take, Sarah?” Julian’s voice was low and flat, stripped of anything warm. He stood on the other side of the kitchen table like a stranger wearing her husband’s face. Sarah’s hand moved instinctively to her stomach. The folded medical report in her purse suddenly felt like

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