Divorcing My Husband Over His Stepsister's Secret novel Chapter 150

Chapter 150

Anna’s POV:

Chile’s face twisted with rage as she lunged toward me at the top of the stairs. I saw it coming the wild look in her eyes, the way her body coiled before striking. When she shoved me, managed to grab the ralling, steadying myself despite the force of her push. The thick carpet on the stairs cushioned what could have been a nasty fall.

I looked up at her and smiled, the kind of smille that said I wasn’t going down that easily.

‘If I wasn’t pregnant, I could’ve…” The thought died in my throat as my hand Instinctively moved to my stomach. A chill

tan through me.

The look in Claire’s eyes wasn’t just anger–it was something darker, something that made my skin crawl,

I turned away from her and her creepy smile, heading toward the hospital exit. With each step, the world around me seemed to blur at the edges, My vision narrowed, like a candle Hame flickering in the wind.

I needed to get out of here. The entire Wright family was in this hospital. They couldn’t know about my pregnancy–not yet, not like this. I fumbled for my phone and called Emily.

“Emily, meet me at the hospital entrance…” My voice sounded distant, even to my own ears.

The world tilted sideways. I felt myself falling into an endless black hole.

The steady beep of a heart monitor pulled me back to consciousness. I blinked against the harsh fluorescent lighting. finding myself in a different hospital bed with Emily sitting beside me, tears streaming down her face.

“Anna.” Her voice cracked on my name.

“Don’t cry,” I said, trying to smile as I took in the unfamiliar room. I’m fine, see?”

Emily’s tears only fell faster, dropping onto the white hospital blanket covering me. “Anna, you’ll have children again in

the future.”

I laughed, confused by her strange joke. My tongue felt thick in my mouth. “Emily, that’s not promise I won’t sneak out again.”

Are you mad at me?!

I spread my palm gently over my stomach, wincing at the tenderness. The hospital gown crinkled under my touch. “Emily. look, it still hurts!”

“Of course it hurts,” she whispered, her hand covering mine. “The pregnancy stopped developing. The baby’s still there, bur the doctor recommends surgery….

My mind refused to process her words. This couldn’t be happening. The room seemed to shrink around me, the white walls closing in as my breath caught in my throat.

The doctor appeared beside my bed, clipboard in hand. “Did you experience any intense physical activity? Your emotional state also seems highly agitated, I told you to rest properly… it’s unfortunate.”

“Doctor,” 1 pleaded, gripping the thin hospital blanket, “Can’t we try to save it? I promise I’ll stay in bed. I won’t go anywhere!

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He shook his head, glancing at the monitors beside me. “I donecommend that. Surgery is the best option to protect your health. You can get pregnant again when your body recovers.”

I clutched Emily’s hand so tightly my knuckles turned white, hire pushed me, I whispered, the truth slipping out like poon I needed to expel.

As Emily and the doctor stepped outside to discuss my options lay back against the stiff hospital pillows, my hand resting on my stomach where my baby still was, though no longer growing.

Jordan. That’s what I’d been calling my baby in my heart. A name that could work for a boy or girl since I didn’t know yet.

Every morning I’d whisper, that name Into the quiet dawn, imaging the day I’d hold my child.

I’d already pictured tiny hands and feet, wondering if they’d have Blake’s blue eyes or my amber ones.

But I couldn’t even protect them inside me. The thought crushed my chest with a weight heavier than anything I’d ever

felt.

The next day, Emily drove me to another hospital across town for a second opinion. But it didn’t matter–the diagnosis was the same. My baby wasn’t going to make it.

Something broke inside me then, a shattering so complete I felt hollow afterward.

Back in my apartment, I scrolled through my phone with numb fingers, barely registering the social media storm that had mysteriously shifted overnight.

The beat that had been on Claire for the Scarlett scandal was now directed at me.

Someone was pulling strings behind the scenes. William? Caroline? Claire? Blake himself? I tossed my phone aside on the plush couch, too exhausted to care.

ry the doctors recommended. I declined Emily’s offer to stay with me, despite her tearful protests.

I refused the surgery

Instead, I locked myself in my Back Bay apartment. I waited for nature to take its course. Let my baby come and

their own terms.

d go on

I felt hollow, trapped in a grief too vast to escape. I didn’t even know if my baby was a boy or girl. My child never even got to meet their father. The online drama would eventually blow over, but my baby–once gone-

Id never come back.

The silence of my apartment was broken by my phone’s ringtone. Claire’s name flashed on the screen. Against my better judgment, I answered.

“Anna, Blakey is holding a press conference for me!” Her voice dripped with satisfaction, the sound of victory apparent even through the phone..

“Did you think I was finished? Sorry to disappoint you!”

Then came that

awful laugh, high–pitched and grating.

I hung up without a word, staring at the ceiling for long minutes. Finally, I dialed the number I knew by heart, the one I’d promised myself I wouldn’t call.

“Anna.” Blake’s voice sounded tired, the way it always did when dealing with Claire’s messes.

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I laughed softly, a hollow sound. “What’s happening online?”

After a pause: “Someone deliberately shifted attention to you.”

“Wat you?” I asked.

“No,” he said firmly.