Baby War

Ethan’s POV It was the close of a stressful, brutal day. The Reich Group CEO, Adam Paul, had dragged the presentations into an agonizing six-hour marathon, demanding every angle and scenario be explored before he finally signed the deal. I walked back into my office, happy but weary. I glanced briefly at my watch.

3:10 PM.

I punched the intercom. “It’s Friday, Becker. Let’s take an early leave. Pack up and get the car ready.”

“Understood, sir.”

I hadn’t visited a decent bar in weeks. Today felt like the perfect day to unwind, to drown out the continuous, low-level thrum of betrayal that had been my constant companion since finding the report. I texted Zack and Warren to meet me at Fidros.

I walked out of the exclusive elevator and headed toward the car park entrance with Becker moving several paces ahead with my briefcase. Suddenly, a figure came sprinting toward me. Instinctively, I recoiled just as the figure darted past, heels clicking furiously on the marble floor.

A familiar, sweet, floral fragrance wafted into my nostrils. I paused and turned as I recognized the scent, and then the figure stumbled, pitching forward in an uncontrolled fall.

It was Leah.

In a split second, I moved. My mind hadn't even processed the action before I was kneeling beside her. My heart seized in my chest. A dark, ugly streak of blood was blooming beneath her as she lay sprawled, clutching her stomach in raw, desperate agony.

“Please… help,” she begged, her voice a low, terrifying whisper.

The CEO facade dissolved. All that remained was raw, protective instinct. I scooped her up and strode hastily toward my car. Becker, seeing the scene, rushed forward, driving the car toward us and yanking the door open.

“To the hospital!” I roared as I carefully laid Leah on the back seat and slid in beside her.

Becker drove us out of the car park. “What hospital are we going to, sir?” he asked, fear evident in his voice.

Leah groaned in pain, tugging weakly at my hand. “Cleve… Dr. Colbert,” she whispered.

“Cleve Hospital,” I relayed, and slowly covered her palm with mine, my gaze locked on her strained, sweaty pale face.

At the hospital, the emergency team took over immediately. I had already called the hospital head, so the process was seamless. Leah was wheeled away, leaving me standing alone as I tried to rehash through what just happened.

“Sir,” Becker said. “Do you want me to call her family?”

“Huh?” I hadn’t processed a single thing since the impact. “Erm… call her family.”

The adrenaline that had powered me through the rush began to fade, replaced by a suffocating physical weight of guilt. What the hell was I doing? I was actively punishing this woman at work, convinced she was Adrian’s scheming mistress, and now I was risking everything—my secrecy, my relationship with Clara, my dignity—to save her.

My chest tightened. Every instinct demanded I walk away, protect myself, protect Clara.

But the memory of Leah clutching her abdomen, whispering “Please, help me,” stopped me. The maternal desperation in that whisper cut through the months of built-up fury.

“Sir, I couldn.t reach her family. They’ve relocated,” Becker reported. “But I spoke to her friend, Agatha. She’s on her way.”

I nodded, as I made my way to get a professional insight of her condition.

At the counter, a tight-lipped nurse gave me a briefing. “She’s being stabilized. Mild abdominal trauma, but both mother and baby seem strong. Doctor’s checking for internal strain. You can wait here.”

Relief hit me, sharp and confusing. I muttered a thanks and leaned against the wall, trying to regain my emotions. I was the one who was supposed to be in control. I was supposed to hate her. But standing here, terrified for the fate of the child. I realized something terrifying. I no longer knew which side of this moral line I stood on.

Mr. Dave, the head of operations, quickly led me to a private office. Moments later, a short, chubby man in his forties, Dr. Colbert, walked in.

“Sir, are you here for Leah Davidson?” he asked.

I nodded. He slid a folder into my hands. “These are the medical records. She is five months pregnant.”

I snapped the folder shut, appalled by the sheer privacy of the records I was holding. The fact that I was reading the medical secrets of the woman who had crushed my heart felt morally unacceptable.

“I have told Leah that an abortion is not recommended,” Dr. Colbert continued, unaware of my internal turmoil. “She called me and asked to terminate the pregnancy. Unfortunately, her blood type is Rh-Null, a very rare blood type. Proceeding with an abortion now would be detrimental and potentially fatal for her due to the difficulty of sourcing blood for an infusion.”

The sheer, brutal shock of the news hit me like a physical punch. Five months. She was five months pregnant. And she had asked for an abortion.

All the fury I felt over the betrayal morphed into a sick, blinding pain. Five months. That meant she was already deep into her affair with Adrian while she was still looking at me, flirting with me, leading me on. The sweet, private moments we had shared meant absolutely nothing to her. She was a master at deception.

And the abortion? She was willing to end the life of the child just to escape the consequences. This was a depth of desperation I hadn't accounted for.

“O.K., Dr. Colbert,” I blurted out, needing to stop the torrent of horrifying information. “How is she now?”

“Mother and child are stable. She’s been given painkillers and sleeping pills. We will watch her through the night.”

Disgusted, I flung the file onto the desk as the doctor left, my hands clenching into fists.

My phone rang. It was Becker. I picked up.

“Boss, I found out what happened. Someone in a dark hooded shirt messed with Leah’s car door—looks like they disabled the locking mechanism. And they dropped a note.”

“A note?”

“I’ve sent you a snapshot.”

I clicked open the message. A picture popped onto the screen, the text printed in stark, block letters:

GET RID OF IT QUICKLY AND QUIETLY

My blood ran cold, extinguishing the rage in an instant. This wasn't a random mugging. This was a warning. And I knew exactly who the warning was for, and exactly who was behind it. Clara. Or is it Adrian?

“Get to the bottom of this immediately, Becker. I need to know who the hooded figure is. Check every security feed.”

“Sir, please, where is Leah?”

I turned around. A petite, frantic woman I recognized as Leah’s friend stood behind me.

“I’m Agatha, sir. Leah’s friend. Is she okay?”

I nodded, then I lead her down the rows of offices until I found Dr. Colbert.

“Dr. Colbert, this is Agatha, Leah’s friend. Can she go home now?” Agatha interjected anxiously.

“No, we need to watch her overnight.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll wait in the lobby until she’s released,” Agatha said, turning to me. “Thank you sir. I’ll take it from here.”

I gave a reluctant nod and left, the file, the blood, and the ominous note burning into my memory. My weekend was officially ca