Married To My Ex's Brother, Reborn Miraculously
Chapter 122: That baby was an accident.

Chapter 122: That baby was an accident.

"You are taking her to Grandpa?" Denis echoed, the irritation swelling in his voice. "You are doing all of this without even asking me? You are forcing me into this marriage. Do you seriously think Grandpa will accept someone like her? A woman with no name, no status?"

Jeanne’s expression hardened, and the last thread of her composure snapped. "Then why were you with her?" she snapped. "Why did you sleep with her? Why parade her around at the auction like a prized jewel and throw money at her if she meant nothing to you? Stop acting like a child. You made a mistake—now don’t run away from your responsibility. Marry her."

"I won’t," Denis exploded, rising from the sofa in one swift motion. His chest heaved with anger. "I’ve already told you—it was a mistake. I never meant to be serious with Tania, and that baby was an accident. If you force this on me, I swear I’ll leave and never look back."

Jeanne’s heart lurched in her stomach as Denis’s words sank in. The thought of losing her son cut deeper than she expected.

She had nearly lost him at birth, and the fear clawed at her chest.

"You can’t leave your mother," she muttered, her voice trembling.

"I will," Denis said firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. "If you push me into something I don’t want, I won’t stay."

Jeanne drew in a long breath, trying to calm her nerves. "Denis," she began in a coaxing voice, "you can’t just walk away from this child. If you don’t have feelings for Tania, you can end things after the baby is born. Get a prenup if that makes you feel better. But for now, you must marry her—for the sake of the child. Otherwise, your grandfather will hand over all his shares to Augustine."

Denis’s face darkened with contemplation. The thought of losing his grandfather’s shares unsettled him deeply. And the idea of Augustine gaining more influence within the family was something he couldn’t stomach.

Sensing his hesitation, Jeanne leaned in with hope. "Think smart. With this child, you’ll have the upper hand. Secure the shares. Once it’s all settled, you can move on. Find a woman from a wealthy family—one worthy of our name."

Denis was silent for a long beat. Then, finally, he exhaled through his nose and said, "Fine. I’ll do it. But I’m not rushing into a wedding. I’ll announce the engagement—for now. The marriage will happen after the child is born."

Jeanne gave a slow nod, her expression easing. For now, she had secured a small victory. Forcing Denis into anything had never been her intention—she knew his temper too well. But at least he had agreed to the engagement, and that was enough to keep the situation under control for the time being.

Truth be told, Jeanne didn’t care for Tania either. If it hadn’t been for the baby, she would’ve never allowed such a woman near her son.

"Alright then," she said, rising from her seat. "Bring her to the mansion for dinner tomorrow." With that, she walked out.

Denis sank into the sofa the moment she was gone, his jaw tight and eyes simmering with rage. "Tania..." he muttered. "You actually dared to manipulate my parents. You’ll regret it. I’ll make sure of that."

At Augustine’s place...

As they stepped inside, Anne turned to Augustine urgently. "Take off your jacket," she said, already reaching for it.

But before she could slip it off his shoulders, Augustine caught her wrists. A teasing smirk tugged at his lips. "In the mood already?" he murmured.

Anne blinked, startled. That wasn’t what she meant at all. Her brows furrowed as she pulled her hands free. "Who said anything about that?" she huffed. "I’m just trying to see if you are hurt."

Augustine chuckled, closing the space between them. "Right," he drawled. "You just want an excuse to touch me, see what’s underneath..." He paused, his face inches from hers. "Don’t pretend you don’t want me."

His breath was warm against her skin, and despite herself, Anne felt tingling sensations down her spine. Her stomach fluttered, but she masked it with irritation and pushed at his arm. "You are full of yourself."

He winced dramatically, grabbing the arm she had shoved. "Ow," he grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut, though one eye peeked open to gauge her reaction. "That really hurt."

Anne’s face shifted from annoyed to alarmed. "What? Where?" she exclaimed, eyes wide. Her fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt.

This time, Augustine didn’t move. He watched her silently, the playful air fading as he took in her concern.

As Anne pulled the shirt open, her hands froze, her pulse rate increasing. His chest was bare and solid, every line of muscle defined. Her eyes lingered, first on his chest, then drifting down over his toned abs. She swallowed, trying not to react—but her body betrayed her as her hand, almost involuntarily, moved toward his stomach.

"Have you seen it enough?" Augustine’s voice snapped Anne out of her trance.

Flustered, she jerked her hand back, her gaze darting away. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink.

"I knew it," he said, grinning playfully. "You used my injuries as an excuse to touch me."

Anne’s face burned hotter. "I did not," she muttered.

"Come on," he said, stepping closer, hands resting on her shoulders. "Just admit it. You want me."

She couldn’t meet his eyes. Her gaze shifted awkwardly until it landed on his right arm.

"Your arm!" she gasped, reaching for it.

The skin was raw and red, scratched from shoulder to elbow. She instantly remembered the moment he yanked her away from the speeding car, how he fell with her in his arms, taking the full impact against the pavement.

A lump rose in her throat. "I’ll get the first aid kit." She turned and rushed off.

Augustine lounged on the sofa, a faint, satisfied smile playing on his lips as he casually scrolled through his phone. With a swipe, he called Gustave.

"Look into what’s going on at the office." His voice shifted, all amusement gone. "Especially Megan. I want every detail—what she did to Anne, all of it."

"Understood, sir. I’ll report back soon," Gustave replied.

Just then, Anne returned with the first aid box in hand. Augustine ended the call and set his phone aside, his expression softening as she approached.

"You look like you have seen a ghost," he said, gently pulling her down next to him. "Relax. It’s just a few rashes."

"Just a few rashes?" she repeated, giving him a pointed look. "Have you seen your arm? It’s red and scratched all over." She opened the box, already soaking a cotton ball in antiseptic. "These could get infected."

She began cleaning the wounds. Augustine flinched as the antiseptic stung.

"Sorry," Anne said quickly, pulling back with a worried look. "I’ll go easy." She leaned in again, dabbing more gently this time and blowing softly on the skin to soothe the sting.

He watched her in silence, feeling the burn of the antiseptic fade under her breath, and noticing the care behind every movement.

A wave of affection and longing softened his expression. A flicker of nostalgia clouded his eyes—no one had shown him such care since his parents. Only Anne had reached that untouched corner of his heart.

His love for her deepened in that moment. Gently, he brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead. Anne glanced up, caught by surprise, and their eyes locked. The intensity in his stare sent a tremor through her chest.

Something in his look went beyond desire—it was fierce, consuming, and achingly tender. His fingers skimmed her cheek, and before she could speak, his lips captured hers.