Chapter 53

Angela POV

"Why?"

I kept my voice steady, but Sean's intense gaze sent a shiver down my spine. There was something different about him-something unreadable and unsettling.

"You can't call Nathan anymore," he said suddenly.

I blinked. "What?"

"And don't call him 'baby' again. In fact, you can't call any man 'baby' ，ever again." he added, his jaw tightening. "I know you weren't talking to Emily last night. I asked her. It was Nathan, wasn't it?"

I froze for half a second, unsure how to respond.

Should I even bother explaining? Maybe it was better to let him misunderstand than risk him learning the truth.

After a pause, I shrugged. "You're overthinking things. Nathan and I are just friends. And no, I won't stop talking to him-he's my colleague. That's not how the world works."

Then, as if this conversation were nothing more than an inconvenience, I patted his shoulder lightly. "Now, put me down."

Instead of letting go, Sean tightened his hold. His eyes, dark and piercing, locked onto mine.

"If you don't agree, I won't let go," he said, his voice low and firm.

I let out a breath. "Can't we have this conversation like normal adults? Do you really think this is appropriate?"

His lips curled slightly, but there was no amusement in his expression. "It's perfectly appropriate."

Then he added, "Angela, do you even remember that you're a married woman?"

I arched a brow, scoffing. "Have you forgotten? This marriage isn't real."

His arms stiffened around me. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes-something unspoken.

Then, without another word, he finally let me go.

As I stepped away, I chuckled softly, but there was no real humor in it.

So he had remembered. His little display had just been his pride talking.

I straightened my clothes and left the room without looking back.

By the time I headed to work, one thing was certain-I was driving myself. No way was I getting in a car with him today.

The workload had piled up over the past few days while I was busy taking care of Elizabeth. The moment I stepped into the office, Emily handed me a thick stack of reports.

By the time afternoon rolled around, my stomach growled in protest, reminding me that I hadn't eaten.

"Sorry, little one," I murmured, instinctively placing a hand on my stomach before grabbing my coat and heading out for lunch.

At a nearby sandwich shop, I joined the queue, my mind still occupied with work. But a strange sensation crept over me-an unsettling chill, as if someone were watching me.

I turned my head slightly and caught sight of a sleek black sports car parked across the street. Its windows were tinted, making it impossible to see inside.

Was it just my imagination?

"Ma'am, your bacon sandwich is ready."

The server's voice snapped me back to reality. I quickly took the bag, pushing aside the strange feeling, and headed back to the office.

But as I walked, that same black car seemed to follow at a steady distance. It didn't speed up, didn't honk-just stayed there, lingering. Then, at the next intersection, it suddenly turned and disappeared.

I shook my head. Maybe I'm just being paranoid pregnancy hormones messing with me.

Later That Evening

Emily was a nervous wreck. She had a big business dinner tonight, and her anxious pacing in the office was making me restless.

"Relax," I said, closing my laptop. "I'll go with you."

Her eyes lit up with relief.

Just as I was about to leave, my phone buzzed-Sean.

Sean: After work, we'll go home together.

Me: I can't. I'm going with Emily to a business dinner.

Almost immediately, my phone rang.

"Emily is your subordinate. Why do you need to go to her business dinner?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.

"I need to train my successor, Sean. Someone has to take over when I leave, right?"

Silence.

I didn't wait for a response before ending the call.

At the Dinner Venue

When we arrived, I frowned.

"A bar? Seriously?"

Emily winced. "The client picked it."

I exhaled sharply. "Bars are too noisy and full of distractions. Did you even try to suggest another location?"

Emily's face turned red. "I I didn't think I could."

"Next time, you pick the place. Never let the client dictate something inappropriate."

She nodded quickly, looking ashamed.

I sighed. "Well, we're here now. Let's just get it over with."

As we stepped inside, I felt an immediate wave of nausea. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, strong alcohol, and the clashing scents of cheap cologne and expensive perfume.

I took a step back, pressing a hand over my nose and mouth.

"Angela, you actually came?"

A familiar, smug voice rang out.

I glanced up to see him-Luca, the notorious playboy son of a corporate giant. He lounged on the couch, a sultry dancer draped over his arm, his lips curved in amusement.

"Didn't think you'd show up to a place like this," he said, twirling a glass of whiskey in his hand before taking a slow sip.

Ignoring him, I turned to Emily. "Let's find the client and wrap this up."

But Luca leaned forward, snapping his fingers at his entourage. "Make room for Angela."

His friends scrambled to clear a seat, but I didn't move.

"Luca," I said coolly. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

His brows lifted. "Why? I spent a fortune reserving this VIP suite."

"The smoke is too heavy. I don't do business in places like this."

The room fell silent.

The surprise on his face quickly morphed into amusement. He leaned back, studying me with interest. "You really are as tough as they say."

I crossed my arms. "Are we moving, or not?"