Chapter 7 - The Emergency Call That Broke the Titan
The private emergency wing of Mount Sinai Hospital was cleared instantly upon Adrian's arrival. Four doctors and three obstetric specialists surrounded my stretcher, their voices blending into a blur of clinical urgency.
"Blood pressure is spiking!"
"Prepare the ultrasound machine immediately!"
"Mr. Moretti, you need to wait outside—"
"I am not leaving this room!" Adrian snarled at the head surgeon, his voice shaking the glass partitions. "Touch her gently, or I will buy this entire hospital and fire every one of you before morning!"
"Adrian, please!" I cried out, grabbing his wrist with all the strength I had left.
The moment my fingers touched his skin, the ferocity in his eyes dissolved into sheer vulnerability. He immediately grasped my hand in both of his, dropping to his knees beside the hospital bed, pressing his forehead against my knuckles.
"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here," he whispered, his body trembling violently.
The cold gel touched my stomach once again. The doctor moved the probe across my lower abdomen, his brow furrowed in concentration. For two agonizing minutes, the only sound in the room was the hum of the monitors and my ragged breathing.
Then, suddenly—
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
The baby's heartbeat filled the room, strong, steady, and fast.
I let out a ragged sob of relief, burying my face in the pillow. Adrian let out a long, shuddering breath, his shoulders collapsing as if the weight of the world had just been lifted off his chest.
"The fetus is perfectly healthy, Ms. Bennett," the lead obstetrician announced, smiling reassuringly. "You experienced acute uterine spasms brought on by severe emotional stress and physical exhaustion. There is no internal bleeding, and the placenta remains intact."
"What does she need?" Adrian asked, his voice thick with emotion, still gripping my hand.
"Strict bed rest for at least forty-eight hours, hydration, and zero stress," the doctor replied, giving Adrian a pointed look. "She cannot be running around the city, working twelve-hour shifts, or dealing with public confrontations."
Adrian looked at me, his dark eyes brimming with unspoken remorse. "You're coming home with me, Claire."
"Adrian, I can't go back to the penthouse," I whispered weakly.
"Not as my ex-wife," he said softly, lifting my hand to press a reverent kiss to my knuckles. "As the mother of my child. The guest suite is yours. The private medical team will be on standby around the clock. You don't have to talk to me. You don't even have to look at me. But please... let me protect you until you are safe."
Looking into his exhausted, bloodshot eyes—seeing the absolute terror he had experienced at the thought of losing us—I couldn't say no.
May you like
"Okay," I whispered. "Just until I'm recovered."
Adrian closed his eyes and kissed my forehead, his tears falling silently against my skin. "Thank you."
