Bella woke with a strange, dull pain in her lower abdomen. It wasn’t sharp, but it was unsettling—like something heavy pressing down from the inside. She blinked, trying to push away the haze of sleep that clung to her like a fog, but something felt wrong… terribly wrong. A cold sense of dread crept up her spine.As she shifted slightly, trying to sit up, she felt it—that unmistakable sensation. A warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her heart stuttered in her chest.Then she saw it.Blood.A deep red stain on the sheets, dark and growing, a horrifying contrast against the pale fabric.“No…” The word barely escaped her lips. Her breath caught. Panic gripped her like a vice, squeezing her lungs and heart all at once. Her hands trembled violently as she clutched her stomach, her fingertips pressing into the taut skin, hoping—praying—for something, anything to feel normal.But the cramps were back. Worse than before. Familiar, gut-wrenching, and intensifying. Like waves crashing against a
Xavier burst into the hospital, shouting for a doctor, his voice hoarse with desperation and fear. His heart pounded like a war drum in his chest, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as he clutched Bella tightly in his arms.A team of nurses immediately rushed to them, urgency etched into every movement. They swiftly guided him toward a gurney, gently easing Bella from his arms. The moment his hands let go of her, a hollow ache opened in his chest. He hated the distance, even if it was just a few feet.“Please—please help her,” he whispered, but the nurses were already at work, checking her vitals, lifting her limp body with clinical precision. Her face was pale as snow, lips tinged with blue, blood staining her nightgown like a warning.He stood frozen as they wheeled her away, the sound of squeaking wheels echoing in the sterile corridor like gunshots. The air around him felt too bright, too white, too loud. Everything blurred at the edges.The gynecologist, Dr. Hayes, arrived
The apartment reeked of stale alcohol and the acrid sting of cigarette smoke, a suffocating blend that clung to the peeling wallpaper and worn carpet. Dim, flickering light from the streetlamp outside seeped in through the dusty blinds, casting long, distorted shadows across the cramped room like silent ghosts. The air was thick—heavy with despair.Harold stepped in cautiously, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. His chest tightened, every breath catching like a stone lodged in his throat. A gnawing dread coiled in his stomach.There, sprawled out on the tattered, sweat-stained sofa, lay Drake—motionless but alive. His chest rose and fell in shallow, erratic breaths. One arm dangled limply over the edge, fingers barely touching the half-empty bottle of whiskey resting against the floor. His eyes were open but glazed over, pupils dilated like black holes, and his pale face was slick with sweat. The stench of vomit and intoxication clung to him like a second skin.Harold’s eyes
The heavy sound of boots stomping across the marble floor sent a chill down Jessica’s spine. She turned around sharply, her breath catching in her throat as she saw him—Drake.He stood in the doorway, his clothes disheveled, his hair a mess, and his face twisted with rage. His eyes were bloodshot, and his grip on the gun in his hand was firm.Jessica felt the blood drain from her face. "Drake, what are you doing here? The police are looking for you!"Drake ignored her. His furious gaze was locked on Harold. His father stood in the center of the living room, his expression tense but composed."You let her go!" Drake snarled, stepping closer, his hands trembling around the gun. "You betrayed me, Dad! You helped that traitor escape!"Harold exhaled slowly, his heart pounding. "I did what I had to do, Drake."Drake let out a bitter laugh. "You HAD to do it? You HAD to betray your own son?" His voice cracked with hysteria. "Do you even realize what you've done? That woman ruined everything
The cold hospital walls closed in on Xavier as he stood outside the operation theater, his heart pounding violently in his chest. The long, agonizing wait made every second stretch endlessly, filling the air with suffocating dread. His fists clenched as he paced the hallway, his mind racing with prayers and fears.Finally, the door swung open, and Bella’s gynecologist stepped out, her expression heavy with exhaustion and concern. She removed her surgical mask and exhaled before speaking.“Mr. Xavier, the surgery was complicated.” Her voice was calm yet filled with an underlying gravity that made Xavier’s stomach drop.He swallowed hard. “Is Bella…?” His voice cracked, unable to finish the question.The doctor gave him a reassuring yet solemn look. “She has given birth to a baby boy.”For a moment, the world stood still. A son. His son. The weight of those words pressed down on his chest like an invisible force.But before relief could settle, the doctor continued.“However, there were
Calla lay in the hospital bed, her body still sore from the wounds Drake had inflicted upon her. The sterile scent of antiseptics filled the air, and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor echoed softly in the quiet room. Though her body ached, her heart felt lighter. She was safe now.Harold admitted her here. She knew he saved her—not out of love or guilt, but to prevent yet another crime from being added to Drake’s list. Although he wanted to take her to Xavier, Calla's rough condition and rotting wounds forced him to take her to a hospital for first aid.After getting admitted in hospital, Harold asked her where she wanted to go and to whom he should call. As he had to leave. Then Calla called Xavier and the staff at the mansion told her that he was already in the hospital.The staff also told her that Bella underwent a cesarean and she was in a coma.She knew it wasn't the right time to Calla Xavier. So, she called Logan instead and asked Harold to leave and let Logan take car
The hospital room was shrouded in a heavy silence, broken only by the steady, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor that echoed like a soft heartbeat in the otherwise lifeless space. The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air, mixing with the sterile chill that only hospitals seemed to possess. Outside the window, the city lights flickered like distant stars, indifferent to the quiet war of emotions unfolding inside.Xavier sat slumped in the chair beside the bed, his broad frame hunched forward as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. His fingers trembled slightly as they traced slow, tender circles on the back of Bella’s hand, which felt cold and fragile in his grasp. Her skin, once warm and full of life, now looked ghostly against the clinical white sheets. Her chest rose and fell in small, barely noticeable breaths—each one a silent thread tethering her to life.He stared at her face for a long time, memorizing every detail—the gentle curve of her cheek, the wa
A soft beeping echoed in the hospital room. The first thing Bella felt was warmth—her body felt light, her mind hazy as if she had been floating in darkness for a long time. She blinked slowly, her eyelashes fluttering as the world came back into focus. The sterile white walls, the dim glow of the bedside lamp, the faint scent of antiseptic… she was still in the hospital.Her throat was dry, and her body ached, but when she shifted slightly, she realized—she was awake.A soft gasp escaped her lips as she registered the sound of footsteps rushing toward her. The next second, she felt a warm, strong hand grasping hers.“Bella…?”She turned her head toward the familiar voice, and her gaze met Xavier’s. He was standing beside her bed, his dark eyes filled with a storm of emotions—relief, joy, pain, and something deeper, something raw and unguarded.Tears welled in Bella’s eyes as she whispered, “Xavier…?”He exhaled a shaky breath, his hand squeezing hers tightly as if afraid she would di
The evening sky was painted in breathtaking hues of orange, pink, and soft gold as the sun dipped lower toward the horizon, casting a warm glow across the tranquil beach. The vast canvas above them looked like something out of a dream—streaks of color melting into each other as if the heavens themselves were sighing in contentment. The ocean responded with grace, its waves dancing rhythmically to the quiet lullaby of the wind, their foam-tipped crests glowing beneath the fading light.A gentle, salty breeze rolled off the water, brushing against Bella’s skin like a whispered caress, tousling her hair and kissing her cheeks. She stood barefoot, toes curled slightly into the cool, soft sand, her heart full and yet still not quite ready to believe the peace that now wrapped itself around her like a blanket. It felt surreal—like standing inside a moment suspended in time, one she never wanted to end.She glanced to her side and found Xavier there, his tall frame motionless yet somehow anc
The journey back home from the hospital felt surreal for Bella. Everything she’d been through—the pain, the fear, the moments when hope felt like a fragile thread—lingered in her chest like shadows. But now, as she stepped through the familiar doorway of her home, the scent of lavender and vanilla greeted her like a long-lost friend. A wave of warmth and safety wrapped around her like a soft blanket, and for the first time in weeks, her shoulders relaxed.She was finally home.Before she could take another step, two small bodies rushed toward her, wrapping her in tight, desperate embraces."Mommy!" Zane cried, his voice trembling with joy as he buried his face against her stomach. His little arms clung to her as though he was afraid she might disappear again."We missed you so much!" Alana added, her voice catching with emotion as she clung to Bella’s arm, her cheek pressed tightly against her mother's sleeve.Tears spilled freely from Bella’s eyes. She knelt slowly, her body still te
A soft beeping echoed in the hospital room. The first thing Bella felt was warmth—her body felt light, her mind hazy as if she had been floating in darkness for a long time. She blinked slowly, her eyelashes fluttering as the world came back into focus. The sterile white walls, the dim glow of the bedside lamp, the faint scent of antiseptic… she was still in the hospital.Her throat was dry, and her body ached, but when she shifted slightly, she realized—she was awake.A soft gasp escaped her lips as she registered the sound of footsteps rushing toward her. The next second, she felt a warm, strong hand grasping hers.“Bella…?”She turned her head toward the familiar voice, and her gaze met Xavier’s. He was standing beside her bed, his dark eyes filled with a storm of emotions—relief, joy, pain, and something deeper, something raw and unguarded.Tears welled in Bella’s eyes as she whispered, “Xavier…?”He exhaled a shaky breath, his hand squeezing hers tightly as if afraid she would di
The hospital room was shrouded in a heavy silence, broken only by the steady, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor that echoed like a soft heartbeat in the otherwise lifeless space. The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air, mixing with the sterile chill that only hospitals seemed to possess. Outside the window, the city lights flickered like distant stars, indifferent to the quiet war of emotions unfolding inside.Xavier sat slumped in the chair beside the bed, his broad frame hunched forward as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. His fingers trembled slightly as they traced slow, tender circles on the back of Bella’s hand, which felt cold and fragile in his grasp. Her skin, once warm and full of life, now looked ghostly against the clinical white sheets. Her chest rose and fell in small, barely noticeable breaths—each one a silent thread tethering her to life.He stared at her face for a long time, memorizing every detail—the gentle curve of her cheek, the wa
Calla lay in the hospital bed, her body still sore from the wounds Drake had inflicted upon her. The sterile scent of antiseptics filled the air, and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor echoed softly in the quiet room. Though her body ached, her heart felt lighter. She was safe now.Harold admitted her here. She knew he saved her—not out of love or guilt, but to prevent yet another crime from being added to Drake’s list. Although he wanted to take her to Xavier, Calla's rough condition and rotting wounds forced him to take her to a hospital for first aid.After getting admitted in hospital, Harold asked her where she wanted to go and to whom he should call. As he had to leave. Then Calla called Xavier and the staff at the mansion told her that he was already in the hospital.The staff also told her that Bella underwent a cesarean and she was in a coma.She knew it wasn't the right time to Calla Xavier. So, she called Logan instead and asked Harold to leave and let Logan take car
The cold hospital walls closed in on Xavier as he stood outside the operation theater, his heart pounding violently in his chest. The long, agonizing wait made every second stretch endlessly, filling the air with suffocating dread. His fists clenched as he paced the hallway, his mind racing with prayers and fears.Finally, the door swung open, and Bella’s gynecologist stepped out, her expression heavy with exhaustion and concern. She removed her surgical mask and exhaled before speaking.“Mr. Xavier, the surgery was complicated.” Her voice was calm yet filled with an underlying gravity that made Xavier’s stomach drop.He swallowed hard. “Is Bella…?” His voice cracked, unable to finish the question.The doctor gave him a reassuring yet solemn look. “She has given birth to a baby boy.”For a moment, the world stood still. A son. His son. The weight of those words pressed down on his chest like an invisible force.But before relief could settle, the doctor continued.“However, there were
The heavy sound of boots stomping across the marble floor sent a chill down Jessica’s spine. She turned around sharply, her breath catching in her throat as she saw him—Drake.He stood in the doorway, his clothes disheveled, his hair a mess, and his face twisted with rage. His eyes were bloodshot, and his grip on the gun in his hand was firm.Jessica felt the blood drain from her face. "Drake, what are you doing here? The police are looking for you!"Drake ignored her. His furious gaze was locked on Harold. His father stood in the center of the living room, his expression tense but composed."You let her go!" Drake snarled, stepping closer, his hands trembling around the gun. "You betrayed me, Dad! You helped that traitor escape!"Harold exhaled slowly, his heart pounding. "I did what I had to do, Drake."Drake let out a bitter laugh. "You HAD to do it? You HAD to betray your own son?" His voice cracked with hysteria. "Do you even realize what you've done? That woman ruined everything
The apartment reeked of stale alcohol and the acrid sting of cigarette smoke, a suffocating blend that clung to the peeling wallpaper and worn carpet. Dim, flickering light from the streetlamp outside seeped in through the dusty blinds, casting long, distorted shadows across the cramped room like silent ghosts. The air was thick—heavy with despair.Harold stepped in cautiously, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. His chest tightened, every breath catching like a stone lodged in his throat. A gnawing dread coiled in his stomach.There, sprawled out on the tattered, sweat-stained sofa, lay Drake—motionless but alive. His chest rose and fell in shallow, erratic breaths. One arm dangled limply over the edge, fingers barely touching the half-empty bottle of whiskey resting against the floor. His eyes were open but glazed over, pupils dilated like black holes, and his pale face was slick with sweat. The stench of vomit and intoxication clung to him like a second skin.Harold’s eyes
Xavier burst into the hospital, shouting for a doctor, his voice hoarse with desperation and fear. His heart pounded like a war drum in his chest, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as he clutched Bella tightly in his arms.A team of nurses immediately rushed to them, urgency etched into every movement. They swiftly guided him toward a gurney, gently easing Bella from his arms. The moment his hands let go of her, a hollow ache opened in his chest. He hated the distance, even if it was just a few feet.“Please—please help her,” he whispered, but the nurses were already at work, checking her vitals, lifting her limp body with clinical precision. Her face was pale as snow, lips tinged with blue, blood staining her nightgown like a warning.He stood frozen as they wheeled her away, the sound of squeaking wheels echoing in the sterile corridor like gunshots. The air around him felt too bright, too white, too loud. Everything blurred at the edges.The gynecologist, Dr. Hayes, arrived