Chapter 1 - The Alarm and the Awakening
The blare of the emergency alarm shattered the quiet intimacy of the examination room.
A split second before that terrifying sound, everything had been perfectly still. I was wearing a delicate white lace-trimmed maternity gown, leaning back against the examination chair, looking down at Adrian. He was kneeling beside me in his dark shirt, his massive, intricately tattooed forearm resting gently over the swell of my stomach. Dr. Sloan had been standing in the background, offering a reassuring, professional smile.
But that peaceful image vanished the moment Dr. Sloan’s expression fell and her finger slammed into the red emergency button on the wall.
"What's wrong?" Adrian demanded. The vulnerability that had softened his ruthless features a moment ago was instantly replaced by the terrifying, commanding presence of the Chicago syndicate boss. He shot to his feet, his massive frame shielding me from the door.
"Her blood pressure just spiked to stroke-level crisis," Dr. Sloan said rapidly, grabbing a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff, her previous calm completely gone. "And the fetal heart rate is plummeting. We have a severe placental abruption happening right now. We need an OR. Now."
My vision blurred. A sudden, agonizing cramp ripped through my lower abdomen, stealing the breath from my lungs. I gasped, clutching the white fabric of my gown.
Adrian didn't panic. Panic was a luxury men in his position could not afford. He became a machine of absolute, lethal efficiency.
"You," Adrian pointed a scarred finger at the doctor. "You are going to save my wife and my daughter. If either of them dies, this hospital burns to the ground. Do you understand me?"
"Adrian, stop," I choked out, fighting through the searing pain. "She's trying to help."
The door burst open. Four nurses rushed in with a gurney, followed immediately by Adrian’s two heavily armed bodyguards, who had heard the commotion and drawn their concealed weapons, expecting a hit squad.
"Stand down!" Adrian roared at his men. "Clear the hallways! Get the cars to the emergency exit! If anyone who doesn't wear a stethoscope comes within fifty feet of this floor, shoot them."
They transferred me to the gurney. The pain was blinding now. As they began to rush me down the fluorescent-lit corridor toward the surgical wing, I felt a warm, strong hand grip mine. Adrian was walking right beside the gurney, easily keeping pace with the running nurses. His dark eyes were locked onto my pale face.
"I'm right here," he said, his voice a low, fierce rumble that anchored me to the earth. "I am not leaving you. Keep your eyes on me."
May you like
"I'm scared," I whispered, a tear slipping down my cheek.
Adrian leaned down, kissing my forehead as we moved. "I know. But death doesn't get to take what belongs to me. I forbid it."
