He Chose Her Over Us

---- Chapter 9 Gregory Velazquez POV: My hands trembled as | clutched the ultrasound report, the black-and-white image a miracle that blotted out everything else. A baby. Our baby. Belen was pregnant The joy was a physical force, a warmth spreading through my chest, melting the cold dread that had taken root there. Everything suddenly made sense. Her irrational anger, her dramatic departure-it was all hormones. Of course. Women became emotional during pregnancy. | had to get her back. My mind raced, constructing a new narrative, one where | was not the villain. | hadn' t betrayed Belen.

| was simply securing a future for another child, a child who needed a father. My plan had been perfect: | would establish a trust for Adrianna and her baby, ensuring they were cared for, and then | would sever all ties, returning to my real family. Belen would eventually see the nobility in my actions. Her anger was just a temporary storm. She loved me. She wouldn't, couldn' t, leave me. "Mark," | barked to my assistant, my voice sharp with renewed purpose. "Find out where my wife is. Now." ---- Adrianna watched me, her smile faltering. "Greg? What is it? What' s wrong?" | barely heard her.

A few minutes later, Mark returned. "Sir, Mrs. Velazquez took a private jet to her family' s estate in Nantucket yesterday." Nantucket. Her family home. She had run back to her parents. A wave of relief washed over me. It wasn' t as serious as |' d feared. She was just licking her wounds, seeking comfort in a familiar place. "Book me on the first flight out tomorrow morning," | commanded. "And contact Cartier. | want the 'Royal Bloom' necklace. The one with the flawless blue diamond. Have it delivered to the jet." Adrianna stepped in front of me, her face a mask of concern.

"Gregory, maybe you should wait. Give her some space. She seemed so angry when she left the clinic. Perhaps a few days to cool off would be best." Her advice sounded reasonable. Wise, even. Belen could be stubborn when she was angry. Pushing her too soon might only make things worse. "You' re right," | conceded, letting Adrianna' s calm logic soothe my frantic energy. "A few days. |' Il let her miss me a little." | felt a surge of affection for Adrianna. She was so understanding, so selfless. ---- The next few days were a strange kind of purgatory.

| threw myself into work, but my focus was shot. | kept checking my phone, expecting a call, a text, anything. The silence from Nantucket was deafening. On the third day, a business associate, a man named Richard Thorne who had been trying to get in my good graces for months, requested an urgent meeting. He arrived at my office looking grave, a large manila envelope in his hand. Adrianna had arranged the meeting, saying Richard had some sensitive information | needed to see. "Mr. Velazquez," he began, his voice oozing false sympathy. "| hate to be the one to show you this.

But as a friend, | felt you had a right to know." He slid a series of glossy photographs across my desk. My blood turned to ice. The first photo showed Belen, walking along a private beach in Nantucket. Her hand was resting on her stomach, a serene smile on her face. Beside her, his arm draped casually around her shoulders, was Camden Montoya. My business rival. The man who had been sniffing around Belen since we were all in college. The next photo showed them laughing together on the porch of the Porter estate, their heads close together. The final photo was the one that shattered my world.

They ---- were sitting on a bench, watching the sunset. Camden was looking at Belen with an expression of such raw, undisguised adoration that it made me physically sick. And Belen... Belen was leaning her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed, looking completely at peace. Looking like she was home. "They' ve been inseparable since she arrived," Thorne said, his voice a venomous whisper. "People on the island are talking. Saying it' s only a matter of time." Rage, white-hot and blinding, consumed me. The ultrasound report on my desk seemed to mock me.

She was pregnant- with my child-and she was seeking comfort in the arms of another man. My rival. The serene smile on her face in the photograph was not one of peace; it was one of betrayal. The whole thing was a setup. She had planned this. She had planned to leave me, to take my child and raise it with him The necklace, the flowers, the apologies-they all evaporated in the fire of my fury. There would be no more waiting. There would be no more gifts. There would only be a reckoning.

"Get the jet ready," | snarled at my assistant, my voice shaking with a rage so profound it felt like it could level the city. "We' re leaving for Nantucket. Now."