All Chapters of Married To My Ex-Fiance's Billionaire Uncle: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

(Mike's POV)."Do you think jewelry will make her like it?" I asked my secretary, Karen, as soon as I walked into the office. The words slipped out before I could stop them, a mixture of anxiety and eagerness in my voice. I wasn’t used to feeling this way—unsure, second-guessing myself. But when it came to Emily, I always found myself wanting to do more, to make things right, especially now that she was carrying our child.Karen looked up from her desk, eyebrows raised. “Not everyone would like jewelry, Mr. Johnson, but it’s worth a try. Is it for a special occasion?”I shook my head, my fingers running through my hair as I paced around the room. “No, no occasion. I just… I feel like my wife's been worrying a lot lately. I thought maybe something nice would help.” My words hung in the air, and I could hear the unease in my own voice. It wasn’t like me to feel uncertain about what to do for her, but pregnancy had changed things.Karen gave me a knowing look, the kind that made me f

(Emily's POV)."Well, look who I met. It's my ex's wife!"The sharpness of Ellen’s voice hit me like a cold gust of wind, making me freeze for a moment. I was strolling through the shopping center, indulging in a bit of much-needed "me time." Mike had been sweet enough to encourage me to take a break, and I didn’t hesitate. I’d been craving some space, a little mental getaway from all the baby preparations, the constant flow of questions, and the never-ending advice from family and friends.But now, here was Ellen, Mike’s ex, standing before me like some dark cloud. Of all the people I could run into today, it had to be her.I glanced over at her, taking in her perfectly put-together appearance. She was dressed to kill, as usual. Her sleek, black designer outfit clung to her toned figure, and her heels were just high enough to make a statement. I almost rolled my eyes. Of course, she looked like a runway model even while shopping. I sighed inwardly. I wasn’t about to let her get to

(Emily’s POV).“It’s Christopher, Love. We can call him Chris or Christo.” Mike said, his voice a mix of pride and disbelief as he held our baby in his arms. I couldn’t take my eyes off the tiny face peering up at us, his little mouth forming a soft O, as if he was ready to take on the world.That day, our son was born. The moment felt surreal, as though I was watching a scene unfold in a movie. Mike leaned down, kissing my forehead, and then my lips, a gentle whisper of gratitude spilling from his mouth. “Thank you for giving birth to Christopher.” Tears welled in my eyes, the emotions of the past hours crashing over me like waves. “I love you both so much,” I whispered, my voice trembling. It was a love I never knew could exist, so raw and overwhelming that it filled every corner of my heart.Mike watched me closely, his gaze tender yet filled with a mixture of awe and relief. He had been my rock through the storm of labor, his hands gripping mine as I fought through each wave

(Emily’s POV)."You're okay if I stay here for a while?"That was Laura's question as she leaned over the changing table, showing me how to properly secure the diaper around Christopher. Her hands moved with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her so naturally teaching me something that, just days ago, felt so intimidating.“Of course,” I replied with a soft laugh, glancing up from my son’s tiny form. “You’ve been a lifesaver. But... What about my dad? Who’s going to take care of him if you’re not around?” I asked with a teasing tone, giving her a playful nudge. Laura blushed immediately, her cheeks turning a delicate pink that made me chuckle under my breath. She was always so graceful, so composed, but the moment I brought up my father, she would get flustered. And I loved every second of it.“Emily…” she sighed, shaking her head but unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Your father i

(Emily’s POV). “Do you want me to help you?” I asked Laura as I stepped into the kitchen, the smell of garlic and herbs filling the air. She was moving around gracefully, her sleeves rolled up, hands busy chopping vegetables, and the stovetop bubbling with what I assumed was her signature sauce. Laura turned her head, giving me that warm, knowing smile. "Are you sure Mike would be okay with that?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I thought he didn't allow you to get tired with all these activities." I sighed softly, leaning against the counter for a moment. “He’s protective, yes… a little too protective sometimes,” I admitted with a slight shake of my head. "But cooking? It’s hardly abnormal. I’ve missed being in the kitchen. I miss cooking for Mike.” Laura chuckled, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Well, if you’re that eager to help, I won’t stop you.” She stepped aside slightly, gesturing to the cutting board. “Why don’t you chop