Two Ultrasound Receipts And A Billion-Dollar Divorce Trap Novel Cover

Two Ultrasound Receipts And A Billion-Dollar Divorce Trap

8.0 / 10.0
After three years of a hollow marriage, Rosalie is devastated by her husband's demand for a divorce to reunite with his former flame. Despite carrying his twins, she hides her pregnancy and flees his control. Years later, she returns as a world-renowned doctor, only for the powerful billionaire to corner her. He demands to know why the children look exactly like him, forcing Rosalie to navigate a dangerous game of secrets, hidden motives, and a past that refuses to stay buried.
Two Ultrasound Receipts And A Billion-Dollar Divorce Trap Summary
After three years of a hollow marriage, Rosalie is devastated by her husband's demand for a divorce to reunite with his former flame. Despite carrying his twins, she hides her pregnancy and flees his control. Years later, she returns as a world-renowned doctor, only for the powerful billionaire to corner her. He demands to know why the children look exactly like him, forcing Rosalie to navigate a dangerous game of secrets, hidden motives, and a past that refuses to stay buried.
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Two Ultrasound Receipts And A Billion-Dollar Divorce Trap Chapter 1

"The gel is going to be cold, Clara," Dr. Evans warned, squeezing a clear dollop onto my lower abdomen.

"I'm ready," I replied, staring up at the blank monitor.

Beside the examination table, Julian shifted his weight. He checked his watch, the gold band catching the harsh fluorescent light. "Shouldn't there be a picture by now?"

"Give the machine a second, Mr. Thorne," Dr. Evans said, her tone perfectly even. "It takes a moment to focus."

"Right. Sorry. Today is just packed." Julian tapped his thumb against the side of his thigh.

I reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Julian, put the phone away. Please. Just for this."

"I'm just checking my emails, Clara. I'm right here." He shoved his main phone into his jacket pocket and offered me a practiced, reassuring smile. "I wouldn't miss this."

Dr. Evans moved the wand across my skin. Static filled the small room, followed by a rhythmic, rapid thumping sound.

"There we go," Dr. Evans said. She pointed a pen at the screen. "Do you see that small shape right in the center?"

I squinted at the gray fuzz. "Is that the baby?"

"That is baby A," Dr. Evans corrected.

I blinked. "Baby A?"

Julian leaned closer to the monitor. "What do you mean, Baby A? Is there a backup?"

"Look slightly to the left." Dr. Evans adjusted the wand, pressing a little firmer into my stomach. "See that second shadow? And watch the flutter right in the middle of it."

My chest tightened. "Oh my god."

"Congratulations, Clara," Dr. Evans smiled. "You're having twins."

Julian took a step back. "Twins. Are you sure?"

"Two heartbeats," Dr. Evans confirmed. "I'm very sure."

Before Julian could say another word, a sharp ringtone cut through the quiet hum of the clinic. He pulled his phone from his pocket, his brow furrowing instantly.

"I have to take this," he announced.

"Now?" I asked, my voice rising. "Julian, we just found out we're having two babies."

"It's the Tokyo office. They only call if the supply chain breaks." He patted his pockets, pulling out his keys, his wallet, and a sleek black smartphone. He dropped the items onto the metal medical tray next to the ultrasound machine. "I'll be right in the hallway. Five minutes. I promise."

"Julian—"

The door clicked shut behind him.

"Husbands tend to get a little overwhelmed at the word 'twins'," Dr. Evans offered gently. "Give him a moment."

"He's always working," I murmured, staring at the closed door.

A sharp vibration rattled the metal tray.

The sleek black phone lit up.

I frowned. Julian only had one phone. His company issued everything on a single device.

The screen glowed brightly in the dim room, displaying a lock screen notification. The text was large, impossible to miss.

*Mia: I'm in 4B on the same floor, doctor says the baby is healthy.*

A second message bubbled up immediately after. An image file. A black-and-white sonogram photo loaded onto the screen, showcasing a perfectly formed, single fetus.

"Is the pressure okay?" Dr. Evans asked, moving the wand lower.

I stared at the glowing screen. The harsh light burned into my retinas.

"Clara?" Dr. Evans prompted. "Are you feeling any discomfort?"

"No," I managed to say. My voice sounded hollow, like it belonged to someone else in the room. "I'm fine."

"Your heart rate just spiked," Dr. Evans noted, glancing at the machine.

"I'm just excited," I lied. "About the twins."

"Understandable. I'll go print these images for your file." She lifted the wand and handed me a thick stack of paper towels. "I'll give you a few minutes to clean up and get dressed."

"Thank you."

The doctor stepped out, leaving me entirely alone.

I sat up on the edge of the examination bed. I curled my fingers inward, pressing my nails into the flesh of my palms. I squeezed my hands into tight fists. Four sharp indentations formed on my skin. The pressure increased until the skin broke, leaving four white crescent moons surrounded by angry, bleeding red lines.

I stared at the blood. The sharp pain grounded me.

*Inhale.* Count to three. *Exhale.*

I forced my chest to rise and fall in a steady rhythm. I grabbed the rough paper towels and dragged them across my stomach. The friction burned, wiping away the sticky, freezing gel. I tossed the crumpled paper into the trash bin.

I reached over to the metal tray. I picked up the black phone.

The screen had gone dark. I pressed the side button.

The message stared back at me. *Mia. Room 4B. Same floor.*

I memorized the phrasing. I memorized the timestamp. Then, I set the device back onto the metal tray, angling it exactly the way Julian had left it.

I slid off the examination table.

My bare feet hit the cold linoleum floor. The chill shot straight up my legs. My knees buckled instantly, trembling violently under my weight. I threw my hand out, catching the edge of the metal counter to stop myself from hitting the ground.

I locked my knees. I stood up straight.

I didn't bother looking for my shoes.

I walked to the door and pulled it open. The fluorescent lights in the corridor hummed a low, irritating tune. The hallway stretched out in both directions, lined with closed doors and quiet waiting areas.

An orderly pushed a cart of fresh linens past me. "Ma'am, you need slippers out here."

"I'm just going next door," I told him.

He shrugged and kept walking.

I moved down the hall. The chill of the floor seeped through the soles of my feet with every step.

Room 4A.

I kept walking.

Room 4B.

The heavy wooden door wasn't closed. It sat slightly ajar, leaving a two-inch gap that spilled a wedge of yellow light out onto the hallway tiles.

I stopped. I pressed my bleeding palm flat against the cool wood of the doorframe.

I leaned forward and looked through the narrow opening.

A blonde woman sat perched on the edge of the examination bed. She wore a pale blue hospital gown, pushed up to reveal her slightly protruding stomach.

Julian wasn't in the hallway. He wasn't on the phone with the Tokyo office.

He was inside Room 4B.

He rested on one knee on the hard tile floor. He reached out, his large hands resting gently on the blonde woman's waist. He leaned forward, closing his eyes, and pressed his lips tenderly against her swollen belly.

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Two Ultrasound Receipts And A Billion-Dollar Divorce Trap of Contents

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