Divorced Wife's Secret Twins: Billionaire's Regret

Aubree's fingers shook so violently that the crisp edges of the ultrasound paper sliced the pad of her index finger.

She didn't feel the sting. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, bruising rhythm. She shoved the paper-the one clearly stamped with the words Twin Gestation-deep into the hidden lining of her cheap canvas tote bag.

The electronic lock on the heavy oak door emitted a sharp, ice-cold beep.

The door of the Manhattan penthouse was shoved open. A bitter gust of late autumn wind swept into the entryway, carrying the scent of rain and expensive cologne.

Ell Steele stepped inside. His dark gray bespoke suit clung to his broad shoulders, making his sharp, unforgiving jawline look even more brutal. His eyes, dark and heavy with authority, pinned her to the spot.

Aubree's stomach twisted. Out of pure, pathetic habit, she forced a welcoming smile and stepped forward, reaching out to take his damp suit jacket.

Ell shifted his weight, dodging her hands with a look of pure disgust.

Mr. Vance, Ell's gold-tier corporate lawyer, stepped out from behind him. The man marched straight to the black marble kitchen island and slammed two thick stacks of legal documents onto the surface. The loud smack echoed off the high ceilings.

Aubree's gaze dropped to the top page.

Pregnancy Termination Consent Form.

The bold black letters punched the air out of her lungs. The blood in her veins turned to ice.

Ell yanked at his silk tie, loosening it with a harsh tug. He towered over her, his voice devoid of a single ounce of human warmth.

"You stopped taking the pills on purpose. Did you really think you could use a parasite to extort a share of the Steele family trust?"

"No," Aubree choked out, shaking her head frantically. "Ell, it was an accident. I swear-"

Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she dug her nails into her palms, refusing to let them fall.

Ell let out a low, scraping laugh. He lunged forward, his large hand clamping around her jaw. His grip was a vise, forcing her to look up into eyes that held nothing but absolute loathing.

"A nobody like you," he spat, the words hitting her face like physical blows. "You aren't even fit to carry Georgina's shoes. What makes you think you are fit to carry my heir?"

Georgina.

The name ripped through Aubree's chest like a serrated blade. The last flicker of hope in her eyes died, replaced by a hollow, agonizing ache.

Mr. Vance stepped forward, holding out a heavy Montblanc pen. His voice was entirely mechanical. "Sign the medical consent form and the non-disclosure divorce agreement, Ms. Daniels. You will receive a compensation check for five million dollars."

A violent wave of nausea crashed into Aubree's stomach.

She shoved Ell's chest with both hands, breaking his grip. She stumbled backward, slapping a hand over her mouth as her stomach violently contracted. She swallowed down the bile, her throat burning.

Ell watched