Chapter 4

Adrianna's POV

(6 weeks after that night)

The first thing I heard was a steady, rhythmic beeping. When I pried my eyes open, the white ceiling told me everything I needed to know.

Hospital.

I tried to sit up, but a gentle hand pressed my shoulder back down. "Easy there," a soft voice said. I turned my head to see a nurse, her kind eyes framed by a navy blue hijab. "You gave everyone a scare. You collapsed at work."

Work. Oh God. My mind scrambled through the haze. One second I had been restocking files behind the reception desk at the design firm, the next the room had tilted like a Ferris wheel ride. Then... black.

The nurse adjusted the IV line taped to my arm. "You've been having fainting spells, yes?"

I frowned. "I... I've been dizzy. But I thought it was just exhaustion."

"Well, exhaustion doesn't usually drop you to the floor without warning," she said lightly, though her gaze was assessing. "The doctor will want to run some tests."

I opened my mouth to respond, only to hear a voice that made my stomach drop.

"Well, well," Amelia drawled, her silhouette filling the doorway like a shadow you couldn't shake. "If it isn't my delicate little sister, living up to her flair for drama."

The nurse glanced between us, clearly picking up on the shift in temperature. "Family?"

"Yes," Amelia said before I could answer, pasting on a sugary smile. "I'm her older sister. I rushed over as soon as I heard."

I wanted to laugh. The performance was flawless. Concern in her voice, pity in her eyes, anyone who didn't know her would think she had left a charity gala to come cradle me back to health.

I forced my voice to stay even. "You didn't have to come."

"Oh, but I did." She stepped inside, heels clicking against the linoleum, designer handbag swinging on her arm. "Someone has to make sure you're not spending your nights... unwisely."

My jaw clenched. The nurse busied herself with checking the monitors, but her ears were clearly working.

"Amelia," I warned.

"What?" She perched delicately on the visitor's chair, crossing her legs with all the grace of someone sitting for a Vogue shoot. "I'm just saying, if you keep having... wild nights, you're bound to end up in places like this. Or worse."

I could feel my pulse picking up, not from illness, but from the slow boil of anger rising under my skin.

"That's rich," I shot back, my voice sharp enough to make the nurse glance up in surprise. "You hand me a drink, disappear without a word, and now you want to play Florence Nightingale?"

Her smirk faltered for half a second. "You're upset. I understand. But I..."

"No," I cut her off, struggling to sit up despite the nurse's attempt to steady me. "You don't get to come in here and pretend to care. You've always treated me like a prop in your little game. I'm not playing anymore. Leave."

Amelia's eyes, the same shade as mine, narrowed just slightly, an unspoken reminder that she didn't like being told what to do.

But then her smile returned, cool and practiced. "Fine. Rest up, darling. We'll talk soon." She stood, leaned over to brush an unnecessary kiss against my cheek, and whispered so low only I could hear, "You'll regret speaking to me like that."

Then she was gone. I exhaled slowly, my hands trembling. The nurse gave me a small, approving nod. "Good for you."

I almost smiled. Almost.

A few minutes later, the door opened again, this time to a tall man in a white coat, glasses perched low on his nose. "Miss Adrianna?" he asked.

"That's me."

He gave the nurse a nod, and she slipped out quietly, leaving us alone.

The doctor stepped closer to my bed, flipping through a chart. "I've reviewed your vitals and some preliminary test results. I would like to discuss them with you privately."

A faint unease curled in my stomach. "Alright... is it serious?"

He hesitated, not a pause to gather words, but the kind of silence that told me whatever was coming would rearrange my entire world.

Finally, he looked up from the chart, meeting my eyes.

"Miss Adrianna," he said carefully, "you're pregnant."

Pregnant.

The word hit me like a slap, sharp, stinging, leaving me stunned beyond reasoning. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I could only stare at the doctor, my mind scrambling for an explanation that didn't exist.

"There must be a mistake," I finally whispered. "That's not... possible."

His expression was gentle, but unyielding. "The tests are accurate, Miss Adrianna. You're about five to six weeks along."

Five to six weeks. The number seemed to echo in my skull. I gripped the thin hospital blanket tighter, trying to remember every detail of the past month, every night, every...

I pressed a hand to my stomach instinctively, not protectively, but in disbelief, as if I could somehow feel the truth or disprove it just by touching.

The doctor hesitated. "I know this is a lot to process. We'll need to run more tests to make sure both you and the baby are healthy. Is there someone you would like me to call?"

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to speak. "No. I..."

The door swung open with a force that startled even the doctor.

A tall figure filled the doorway, the kind of presence that commanded attention before a single word was spoken. His black suit stretched across broad shoulders, his steps deliberate, as though he owned the ground beneath him.

And then his eyes, dark and intense, found me.

The air shifted instantly, heavy and charged. The steady beeping of the heart monitor seemed too loud in the silence that followed.

It's him.

Xavier.

He closed the distance between us in three long strides, the room suddenly feeling much smaller. The doctor stepped back instinctively, looking from me to him as if uncertain whether to intervene.

Xavier's gaze flicked briefly to my hand, still pressed against my stomach, then returned to my face.

"Why are you here?" I managed, my voice shaky but defiant.

He didn't answer my question. Instead, his lips curved, not in a smile, but in something colder. "Five to six weeks?"

The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sir, I'm not sure..."

Xavier didn't even look at him. His attention was locked on me, his voice dropping low enough to make my skin prickle.

"That child..." He paused, as if making sure I heard every word. "It's mine."

The room went silent. The doctor stared at him, wide-eyed. I stared too with a blank mind, my heart pounding, because I had no idea what terrified me more.

The fact that I might be pregnant.

Or the fact that Xavier sounded absolutely certain it belonged to him.

Chapter 5

Adrianna's POV

Nothing made sense.

My head felt too full and too empty at the same time. Sounds came in slow, like they had to fight their way into my brain. The beeping machine. The doctor's stiff silence. The weight in my chest that made it hard to breathe.

Pregnant.

Xavier.

Mine.

The words crashed into each other.

I stared at the white wall across from me and tried to catch up with my own life. Just days ago, I had been a girl with a cheating boyfriend and a cruel sister. Now there was a baby inside me. Now the most dangerous man I had ever met was standing in front of my hospital bed like he owned the air I was breathing. My fingers curled into the blanket.

This was not real. This could not be real.

Xavier turned to the doctor, his face hard, his voice calm in a way that scared me more than shouting ever could. "I need a moment with you."

The doctor hesitated. "Sir, the patient..."

"I said I need a moment," Xavier repeated.

That was all it took. The doctor nodded quickly and stepped closer to Xavier. Xavier looked down at me then. His eyes were sharp and commanding.

"Stay in the bed," he said.

It was not a request.

"I'm not going anywhere," I muttered, even though my heart was racing.

His gaze lingered on me for a second longer, like he did not trust my words. Then he turned and walked out with the doctor, the door closing behind them.

The room went quiet. I lay there staring at the ceiling, my mind spinning. Stay in the bed. Like I was a child. Like I was something fragile he could order around.

What the hell was happening to my life?

I pressed my lips together, trying not to cry. My chest felt tight, like someone was sitting on it. My thoughts were everywhere.

A baby. Inside me.

I did the math again even though I already knew it added up. The night at the hotel. The drug. The confusion. The man who was not Grant.

Xavier. My stomach twisted.

I did not know anything about babies. I did not know what to eat or what not to eat. I did not know how to be careful or gentle or strong enough for another life. I barely knew how to protect myself.

My hands started to shake.

What if Amelia found out? What if my parents blamed me like they always do? What if the world laughed at me again? And what if Xavier did not let me go?

The thought made my skin crawl. I swung my legs slowly to the side of the bed, then stopped. My breathing came fast and shallow. My heart was beating too hard. I need air. I need space. I need out. I closed my eyes and forced myself to slow down.

Then, without thinking too much, my hand moved to my stomach. It was flat. Normal. Nothing had changed on the outside. But everything inside me had changed forever.

I swallowed. There was something there now, growing.

This baby was mine. I knew this. I would not let anyone take this from me. Not my sister. Not my parents. Not even Xavier Palmer. My fingers pressed lightly against my stomach, like I was afraid I would hurt it.

"I don't know what I'm doing," I whispered. "But you're mine." My eyes burned, but I did not let the tears fall.

That was when the panic hit.

Hard.

The room felt smaller. The walls felt closer. I could not breathe. I needed to leave before Xavier came back and decided something for me. I pushed myself off the bed, ignoring the dizziness, and grabbed my clothes. My hands fumbled as I dressed. I did not care how I looked. I did not care if anyone stared.

I needed to go now. I slipped out of the room, my heart pounding. The hallway smelled like disinfectant and fear. Nurses walked past me, but no one stopped me. I kept my head down, moving fast, like if I slowed down I would break.

At the front desk, I barely listened as they spoke. Forms were shoved at me. A pen pressed into my hand. I signed where they pointed, my name shaky and wrong.

My chest hurt. My head hurt. Everything hurt. I did not wait for discharge papers. I did not ask questions. I just left. I sucked in a breath and almost gagged. My legs felt weak, but I kept walking.

A cab was parked by the curb. I rushed toward it, my bag clutched to my chest.

"Please," I said to the driver, my voice thin. "Just drive."

I reached for the door handle. A hand grabbed my arm.

Hard. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?!" Xavier's voice cut through me like a blade.

I gasped and spun around, my heart slamming into my ribs. His face was dark with fury, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack. He stood too close, his presence heavy and overwhelming.

"You can't just walk out," he snapped. "Do you have any idea..."

Something in me snapped back, not fear, it was pure protection.

My free hand flew up and shoved against his chest as hard as I could. The impact surprised both of us. He stumbled half a step back.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" I screamed.

The words tore out of my throat, loud and raw. People nearby froze. The cab driver stared. I did not care.

Xavier's eyes widened, not with anger, but with shock. I did not wait. I yanked open the cab door, threw myself inside, and slammed it shut.

"Drive," I shouted, my whole body shaking.

The cab pulled away. I did not look back.

"Stay the fuck away from me." I repeated to no one.

Chapter 6

Xavier's POV

She vanished.

One moment she was right there. In the hospital bed. Pale. Shaken. Carrying something that belonged to me. The next, she was gone, slipping through my fingers like smoke.

It should not have been possible.

I stood in the private corridor outside the hospital wing, my phone pressed hard to my ear, my jaw locked so tight it hurt. "Run it again," I said coldly. "Security cameras. Elevators. Exits. I want every angle."

The voice on the other end stammered something about blind spots and delays. I ended the call without responding. Excuses bored me.

I dragged a hand through my hair, frustration burning under my skin. I had left her alone for less than ten minutes. Ten. And she had walked out of a private hospital wing like she was invisible.

No guards alerted me. No nurse stopped her. No one thought to question a pregnant woman in shock.

Deceiving me that easily was almost laughable.

Almost.

My chest felt tight. Not panic. I did not panic. Control had always been my constant. I built my empire on it. I calculated risks, closed exits, planned ten steps ahead. People did not surprise me.

Adrianna had.

She had looked terrified. Furious. Protective in a way that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the child she carried. When she shoved me, there was no calculation in it. No manipulation. Just instinct.

That made her dangerous.

I turned toward the floor to ceiling window overlooking Manhattan, watching traffic crawl below like obedient ants. I would find her. That was not a question. It was a matter of when.

The door behind me creaked open.

Then I heard it.

Laughter.

Actual laughter.

I turned slowly, already irritated, and there he was. Leaning against the doorway like he owned the place, hands in his pockets, eyes bright with amusement.

My twin.

"Wow," he said, scanning my expression with open delight. "I leave you alone for one hour and you look like you just lost a billion dollars."

"Get out," I said flatly.

Xander Palmer grinned wider. He was identical to me in bone structure, height, and features. Same dark hair. Same sharp jaw. But where I wore control like armor, he wore ease like a second skin.

He walked in anyway. "No chance. The nurses downstairs are whispering like they just witnessed a scandal. I figured I would come see the main attraction."

I glared at him. "This is not a joke."

"That's funny," he replied. "Because you look like one."

I clenched my fists. "Say what you came to say."

"Oh, I came to see it with my own eyes," Xander said, circling me slowly. "The great Xavier Palmer, terror of boardrooms and governments alike, undone by a woman in a hospital gown."

He clicked his tongue. "Should I have brought popcorn? Maybe champagne? This feels historic."

"She ran," I said.

His eyebrows shot up. Then he laughed again, louder this time. "She ran?"

"She escaped," I corrected.

Xander pressed a hand to his chest, mock wounded. "Escaped? From you? That's a first. I did not think you let people do that."

"I did not let her," I snapped.

"Sure looks like you did."

I shot him a warning look. He ignored it.

"So let me get this straight," he continued. "You have a one night stand with a woman you do not trust. She is pregnant. You claim the child. You turn your back for five minutes. And poof. She disappears." He whistled softly. "That woman has guts."

"She has my child," I said.

Xander stopped pacing. His expression shifted slightly. Not serious. Curious. "You sure?"

"Yes."

"How?"

I did not answer immediately. Because I did not know how to explain certainty that lived in my bones. "I know," I said finally.

He studied me for a long second, then smirked. "Wow. You sound terrifying. No wonder she ran."

"She will be found."

"Oh, I am sure," he said cheerfully. "You always get what you want. Except apparently when the woman is pregnant and unimpressed."

My glare sharpened. "You are enjoying this far too much."

"Of course I am. Do you know how long I have waited to see you rattled?" He leaned closer. "You look like a man who just realized he cannot buy his way out of something."

"I do not buy people."

Xander laughed. "That is debatable." He dropped onto the couch, stretching out like he belonged there. "So what now? You hunt her down with a private security team? Corner her? Scare her into obedience?"

"I protect what is mine," I said.

"Oh, I believe you," he replied lightly. "But let me guess. She did not look very protected when she told you to stay the fuck away from her." My jaw tightened. Xander snapped his fingers. "Oh. That hit."

"Keep talking," I said. "See how far it gets you."

He chuckled. "Relax. I am just saying, brother, you finally met a woman who does not tremble when you enter the room. That alone should terrify you."

He stood, patting my shoulder. "Congratulations. You are officially human."

I shrugged him off. "Get out."

He moved toward the door, then paused. "For the record," he added, "if she ran that fast, she is not scared of you." I looked at him sharply. "She is scared of what you could become," he finished. "Big difference." He winked. "Also, if she keeps humiliating you like this, I am telling everyone. The board. The press. Mother."

He opened the door, laughing again. "Try not to start a war before breakfast. And Xavier?"

"Yes."

"Next time you order a woman to stay in bed, maybe make sure she cannot walk."

***

Xander stretched his arms above his head like he had just enjoyed a good show. "New York really hits different when you are watching your twin spiral."

"I am not spiraling," I said flatly.

"Of course not," he replied. "You are brooding with intention. Much scarier."

I ignored him and turned to my head of security, Ethan, who was walking two steps behind us. "How did he know?"

Ethan slowed, suddenly very interested in the pavement. "Sir?"

"You," I said, stopping abruptly. Xander stopped too, still smirking. "How did my brother know what happened inside a restricted hospital wing?"

Ethan cleared his throat. "Mr. Xander has... methods."

"That is a polite word for invasive," I said.

Xander laughed. "Come on. You know me. Information hates me. It always ends up confessing."

I looked back at Ethan. "Explain."

"He threatened to call your mother, and I know you wouldn't like that." Ethan admitted quietly.

Xander beamed. "Works every time."

I resumed walking. My jaw tightened, but I let it go. There were bigger problems than my twin's talent for chaos.

Xander fell into step beside me. "So," he said casually, "what is the plan now? Full predator mode? Track her phone. Lock down her accounts. Show up at her door like a nightmare in a tailored suit?"

"That would work," I said.

"And it would also confirm every fear she has about you," he replied.

I shot him a sideways look. "You are enjoying this far too much."

"I am enjoying your personal growth," he corrected. "Look at you. About to be a father. Learning restraint. Next thing you know, you will be apologizing."

"That will never happen."

He shrugged. "Never say never. Life clearly does not care about your rules."

We reached the curb where my car waited. The driver opened the door, but I did not get in yet. Xander leaned against the hood, suddenly more thoughtful.

"Listen," he said, tone shifting just enough to make me pay attention. "She ran because she felt cornered. Not because she is stupid. And not because she is playing you."

"You do not know that."

"I do," he said. "Women who scheme do not shove men like you in public and flee in a cab with shaking hands. That was fear. Real fear."

I hated that he was right. "So what do you suggest?" I asked coolly.

He smiled, slow and smug. "You try something radical."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Be polite." I stared at him. "Civil," he continued. "No threats. No commands. You ask her to meet you somewhere public. Neutral ground. A café. A restaurant. Somewhere with witnesses and exits. You offer answers. Truth and safety."

I scoffed. "That is not how negotiations work."

"That is exactly how negotiations work when the other party holds something you cannot afford to lose," he said lightly. "Right now, she has leverage. And you scared her."

"I do not scare people."

Xander laughed outright. "You terrify people. It is your brand."

I exhaled slowly, considering it despite myself. An open space meant less chance of flight. Public meant she would feel protected. I hated that it made sense.

"Find her number," I said, turning to Ethan.

Ethan blinked. "Sir."

"Adrianna," I clarified. "Her phone number. I want it."

"Yes, sir." He pulled his phone out immediately.

Xander clapped his hands once. "Look at that. You listened."

"Don't get used to it."

"Oh, I will treasure this moment forever," he said. "The day Xavier Palmer decided not to bulldoze a woman."

I got into the car. Xander slid in beside me uninvited.

"Why are you still here?" I asked.

"I want front row seats," he replied. "This is better than television."

The car pulled into traffic. My phone buzzed a few minutes later.

Ethan leaned forward. "We have her number, sir."

I took the phone from him, staring at the screen. For the first time in years, I hesitated.

Xander leaned over. "Do not threaten her. Do not order her. And for the love of everything expensive, do not say 'the child is mine' in the first sentence."

I shot him a look. "I know how to speak to people."

"Debatable," he said cheerfully.

I typed. Then deleted it. Typed again. Deleted it again.

Xander gasped dramatically. "Oh my God. He is nervous."

"Shut up."

I finally sent the message.

Simple and polite. I locked the phone and leaned back, waiting for a response.

And when she did respond, everything would change.