CHAPTER 188: CHAPTER 188- YOU’RE PREGNANT?

"Angela! Samantha!"

Janice arrived at the plaza just in time to see the two familiar figures already waiting for her in the center. The moment they spotted her, both Angela and Samantha waved, their elegant silhouettes glowing in the soft evening light.

The moment Janice received Angela’s call, she dropped everything and came running.

After all, during her pregnancy with Trista, these two women had been by her side every step of the way. In her heart, they were more than friends—they were like the older sisters she never had.

"Today’s our rare girls-only day!" Angela grinned, throwing one arm around Samantha and the other around Janice. "No men, no kids—just us and pure happiness!"

Janice couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Alright, alright. We’ll do whatever you say!"

Everyone knew their men—Shaun, Charles, Brian, and Steven—were brothers in arms, bonded through fire and blood. And just like them, the three of them—Angela, Samantha, and Janice—had formed their own unbreakable sisterhood.

Other than that one time at Trista’s birthday party, Janice hadn’t had a chance to spend time alone with them. But today felt... different. Special. Like a long-awaited reunion of the heart.

"To Janice and Charles’s reunion! And to the three of us—for all the laughter, the tears, and the unshakable bond we share—cheers!"

Their glasses clinked with a crisp ting, and Janice downed her beer with a slight wince. She wasn’t used to drinking, but today? She didn’t mind a little buzz.

Angela quickly refilled her glass.

They were at Hell’s Lounge, the bar unofficially ruled by their men. Angela had picked the place deliberately, completely unbothered. After all, the bosses rarely showed up unannounced—and everyone here knew who they were. The moment the ladies stepped in, the staff had straightened up like soldiers saluting their commanders’ wives.

"Let’s dance!" Angela declared, setting down her glass. The dance floor’s flashing lights were calling her name. Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Samantha with one hand and Janice with the other, dragging them right to the center.

The crowd instinctively parted for them.

As if on cue, the music paused. The beat hung in the air, suspended.

Eyes turned. Murmurs passed.

"What’s with the staring?" Angela frowned, pouting. "Do we look like circus animals or something?"

Janice and Samantha exchanged glances—and suddenly, it clicked.

This was Charles and the guys’ territory. Which meant... eyes and ears were everywhere.

And sure enough, right as they stepped off the dance floor, a staff member came trotting over with a forced smile.

"Ladies, um... Mr. Xiao just called. He’ll be here shortly. He asked that you wait for him."

Angela rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck that way. "Ugh. Snitch. Way to ruin the mood."

She glared at the poor guy, who immediately turned his gaze to the floor, pretending to be invisible. Serving these ladies? Way scarier than serving the bosses.

"Come on, Angela. Didn’t we agree—no talking about them tonight?" Janice tugged at her arm gently.

Samantha had already taken her other hand, ready to flee.

The three of them looked at each other—grinning like schoolgirls.

And then they ran.

"Hey! Wait! Mr. Xiao is almost here! How am I supposed to explain this?" the staffer called after them, but it was too late.

They were gone.

"Great," Angela muttered as they ducked around the corner. She leaned against a metal railing, trying to catch her breath. "Now Shaun’s gonna kill me. Brian and Charles will definitely come hunting us down."

She glanced over at the other two, their faces glowing under the streetlights. "I should’ve picked another place..."

Janice and Samantha just laughed.

Without another word, the three of them turned off their phones at the same time—like rebels cutting ties to the mothership—and slipped into the night, free at last.

Like kids who had snuck out past curfew.

And it felt amazing.

The three of them had spent the entire afternoon at the amusement park, giggling like schoolgirls. From the Ferris wheel to the carousel to a gentle paddle boat ride—it wasn’t anything too wild. Yet, when they stepped out of the park, Samantha noticed something off.

"Janice, are you feeling okay? You look a little pale."

She offered her a cold soda. Janice took it with a weak smile and shook her head. "I’m fine. Just... a bit out of shape, I guess. My legs feel a little weak."

"Out of shape? With Charles around?" Angela raised a playful brow, licking her ice cream like a mischievous cat. "With a body like that, I’m pretty sure he’s been giving you a full workout every night!"

Janice blinked, then flushed crimson as Angela’s words sank in. She lowered her head instantly, as if she could hide from the teasing.

"Ha! Nailed it, didn’t I? I bet he pampers you to exhaustion!" Angela laughed with zero self-restraint.

"Alright, that’s enough teasing," Samantha interrupted, handing Angela a tissue and gently guiding Janice to sit on a wooden bench by the path.

The three stunning women sat there with serene smiles, their faces lit up by the warm, golden hue of the setting sun. It was a picture of such rare beauty—one that turned heads and drew gazes wherever they went.

That evening, they went out for barbecue. None of them were even remotely worried about what kind of punishment awaited when they returned home. After all, the men who loved them adored them to the bone. If anything, they were more likely to get scolded for not taking care of themselves than sneaking off for a girls’ day.

"Janice, try this one. It’s so good," Angela said, holding out a piece of grilled meat wrapped in lotus leaf. She’d brought Callum here before and knew the place well—it was always packed for a reason.

"Mm..." Janice reached out to take it, but the moment the aroma hit her nose—sweet, spicy, and slightly greasy—her stomach turned violently.

Something was definitely wrong.

She forced a bite, but as soon as it hit her tongue, the nausea came back stronger than before. Her face contorted, and she barely managed to cover her mouth before bolting to the restroom.

Angela and Samantha watched her run off, then exchanged knowing glances.

When Janice returned, still a bit pale, the other two were already standing.

"I..."

"You..."

They spoke at the same time, then burst out laughing. No words were needed.

They were women. They knew.

Just to be sure, they took Janice to the hospital. And of course, their suspicions were right.

She was pregnant.

The ride back felt like an honor guard escorting a national treasure. Angela and Samantha hovered around her like mother hens, scolding and doting on her in equal measure. Janice could only nod obediently at their endless advice.

But the moment she stepped into her house...

Charles was waiting.

He sat on the sofa, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes dark and unreadable.

The moment he saw her, he shot up and crossed the room in two strides, scooping her up without a word and throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

"Charles—!" she squealed.

He didn’t stop until they were in the bedroom, where he tossed her onto the plush mattress with just enough force to bounce her lightly. She sat up cautiously, eyes wide, while he loomed over her, fury etched into every sharp line of his face.

"Where were you?" His voice was low. Dangerous. "Why was your phone off?"

"I was with Angela and Samantha," she said calmly, even though her heart was racing. "We just spent the day together."

"Damn it, Janice!" He raked a hand through his hair, pacing. "Do you know how worried I was? You could’ve just toldme. Instead, I had to hear from Shaun that Angela dragged you to a nightclub—and then nothing. No texts, no calls. You disappeared!"

"Oh, stop fussing," she pouted, scooting closer and wrapping her arms around his neck like a cat trying to placate its owner. "I’m not a child."

The moment she got close, he caught a whiff of her breath. His frown deepened. There it was—the faintest trace of alcohol.

Janice didn’t notice it.

But he did.

Every scent. Every shift. Every change.

Because when it came to Janice... Charles noticed everything.

"Had fun?" Charles’s voice was cold, his expression still stern. Not even her soft, kittenish act could melt the anger on his face. "You even drank?"

"Just a little..." Janice replied cautiously, instinctively placing a hand on her belly. She hadn’t known then. Just one drink... It should be fine, right?

Charles let out a long sigh, filled with helplessness. "You’re just like Trista—reckless and thoughtless. You’re driving me insane, Janice."

That afternoon, when he couldn’t reach her, his mind had spiraled into chaos. Yes, he knew she was with Angela and Samantha. And yes, logically, he knew she’d be fine. But that wasn’t the point. He wanted to know where she was, every second of every day, so when he missed her, he’d know exactly where to find her. Instead, he’d spent the entire day in a restless daze, feeling like he’d lost her all over again.

Sensing the frustration between his brows, Janice’s guilt surged. She reached out to gently smooth the crease on his forehead, then snuggled into his chest with the sweetest voice she could muster.

"Honey... I’m sorry, okay? I promise I won’t do it again. Please don’t be mad..."

Charles exhaled, his arms winding tightly around her waist, his face buried in her neck. "My heart’s been aching all day. You need to make it up to me."

His hand slipped beneath her shirt, trailing over her skin with unmistakable intent. His large palm landed squarely on her chest, separated only by the thin fabric of her bra.

"How exactly do you want me to make it up to you?" Janice didn’t stop him. Instead, she leaned into his touch, her beautiful eyes narrowing slightly with a glint of mischief.

"You tell me," Charles murmured against her ear, his breath hot, his voice sinful. He pulled her into his arms and lowered her onto the soft bed behind them.

"Don’t..." Janice tried to protest, her voice shaky as his lips captured hers in a kiss that turned her thoughts into a hazy blur.

"It’s too late for ’don’t’ now..." His self-restraint was barely hanging by a thread. Her sweetness, her scent, the soft curves of her body—everything about her intoxicated him.

Charles groaned, yanking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, already working on the buttons of her blouse. But just as he reached for her again, she caught his wrist and guided his hand down—resting it gently over her stomach.

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Baby says he’s tired... So Daddy needs to behave."

Charles froze.

The desire in his eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by something far more intense—shock.

"You... You’re pregnant?"

Janice lay there with flushed cheeks and messy clothes, the picture of sensual innocence. She bit her lip and nodded, her eyes glinting with both guilt and pride.

"Damn it!" Charles suddenly jumped up, bolting into the bathroom. A second later, the sound of cold water filled the silence, and then—

"Janice!" his voice boomed from behind the bathroom door, a furious roar of disbelief. "You insane woman—how could you take my son to a bar and drink?!"