The blinding white lights above me hummed faintly. My lashes fluttered as I stirred awake, my chest heaving in a sharp gasp.

Where… am I?

My palm flew to my stomach, instinctive, protective. My heart thumped wildly as I scanned the unfamiliar room. White walls. The sterile smell of disinfectant. A faint beeping sound somewhere in the distance.

A hospital.

I froze, panic seizing me. The last thing I remembered—refusing Adrian’s offer to give me a ride, choosing instead to walk home. Then darkness. My knees must have buckled on the road.

But how did I end up here?

“...Alice.”

The voice came from behind me, calm, gentle, yet steady enough to make me jolt. I turned instinctively, and my gaze met Adrian’s tall figure by the door. Relief washed over his features when he saw me awake.

“You’re finally awake,” he said softly, stepping closer.

I blinked at him, confusion swirling in my chest. “Adrian… what happened?”

“You fainted,” he explained simply, his voice steady but his eyes carrying something else—concern. “I was nearby. I brought you here.”

For a moment, I just stared. My lips parted, but no words came. Then the sound of a knock interrupted us.

The doctor entered, clipboard in hand, his eyes darting between us. “Mrs. Markston, I need to run some checks. It’s private,” he added, glancing pointedly at Adrian.

Adrian frowned immediately, his jaw tightening. “Private? She’s not well. Why can’t I stay?”

The doctor sighed, hesitant. “Because it concerns personal medical details.”

My stomach dropped. "Medical details?"

Fear gripped me, whispering the one thought I didn’t want to face—something wrong with my babies. My chest tightened painfully.

“Adrian,” I whispered quickly, my hand curling around the bedsheet, “please… leave. Just for a little while. Please.”

He looked torn, hesitation etched across his features. “Alice—”

“Please.” My voice broke, pleading.

Finally, with clear reluctance, he nodded. “Fine. But if you need me… just call.” His voice lowered, almost protective.

I gave him a small nod. He lingered for a moment longer before stepping out, closing the door softly behind him.

The silence pressed in.

The doctor cleared his throat, his gaze softening as he approached me. “Mrs. Markston,” he began carefully, “you’re pregnant.”

Tears instantly stung my eyes. Yes, I already knew. Yet hearing it again—here, in the stark brightness of the hospital—made it all too real.

But his voice grew heavier as he continued.

“You must not go through constant emotional strain. Prolonged stress can cause depression, and depression may harm the babies. And…” He paused, choosing his words. “Your womb is slightly deformed. If you lose these babies, I’m afraid there might be no chance of conceiving again.”

The room tilted for a second. My breath caught in my throat.

No chance again.

Slowly, my arms wrapped around myself, as though shielding not just my body but the fragile lives within me. A shield against their father’s harsh words.

I lowered my eyes. “I know,” I whispered faintly. “Can you… can you at least prescribe me vitamin pills?”

“Of course.” His gaze lingered on me, pity flickering in his eyes, before he quietly excused himself.

The door shut, and silence swallowed me again.

No one called Vincent?

A bitter laugh slipped from my throat. No—of course not. And even if they did, what then? Would the doctor have revealed everything? My secret, my unborn children?

No. Better this way. Better to hold my truth close, safe from his world where love had always been a business transaction.

The quiet didn’t last. Soon, Adrian returned, pushing the door open carefully, a tray in his hands.

“You need food,” he said gently, setting it down on the small bedside table. The scent of warm porridge filled the air.

I shook my head faintly. “I’m not hungry.”

“Yes, you are,” he countered softly. “You just don’t want to admit it.” He picked up the spoon, blowing on it before holding it out.

I blinked at him. “Adrian, I can feed myself—”

He arched his brow. “Really? You looked ready to collapse just standing a moment ago. Don’t argue.”

His tone was firm, yet something in it made me feel… cared for. It was unfamiliar, like stepping into sunlight after years in the shadows.

Still, my mind wandered.

Vincent.

Was he worried about me now? Did he know? Or was he still by Lilian’s side, tending to her every whim?

A lump formed in my throat.

“Eat,” Adrian urged softly, his voice breaking my thoughts.

I opened my mouth reluctantly, and he slipped the spoon between my lips. The warmth of the porridge spread through me. He chuckled when I finally swallowed.

“You see? Not so bad,” he teased lightly.

I forced a small smile, though my heart ached elsewhere.

As he fed me, his eyes softened. “Alice,” he murmured suddenly, “make sure you always take care of yourself… and the most important people to you.” His hand brushed lightly over my hair, a comforting gesture.

I stiffened, my chest tightening.

Yes—I would. I would take care of myself. Of my babies.

But what about him?

How would Vincent react when he discovered the truth—that I carried not just one, but two children of his blood? Would it matter to him? Or would he see them as nothing but flaws in the contract he once forced upon me?

My gaze lifted to Adrian. He was still smiling softly, almost shyly.

Inside me, the question echoed: Why couldn’t Vincent have looked at me like that?

Meanwhile at the Markston family hospital.Vincent slammed his palm against the glass door, startling both Lilian and the doctor attending her.

“Damn it!” he growled, fury and something else—fear—raging in his veins.

Hours ago,when decided to go see Lillian he called his Secretary then,instructing him to rush to City Hospital and take care of Alice.

His secretary’s voice still rang in his ears: “I couldn’t reach the hospital, sir. Rush hour traffic. I’ll try again.”

Alice.

The thought of her lying in some sterile hospital bed while he was trapped here clawed at his chest. He shrugged on his jacket, intent on leaving.

“Brother Vincent,” Lilian’s soft, coquettish voice cut through. She winced dramatically, clutching at her arm where a faint scratch marred her porcelain skin. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving me too?”

His steps faltered.

Her eyes watered, her lips trembling. “I was traumatized… those men… they asked me questions about you.” Her voice broke, weak, trembling.

Vincent’s heart clenched. In two strides he was beside her, pulling her into his arms, his jaw tight.

Lilian smiled faintly against his chest, her lips curving dangerously where he couldn’t see.

And across the city, I lay in a hospital bed, Adrian’s hand warm on my hair as I clutched my belly tighter.

I stared at the ceiling, my heart torn in two.

Adrian’s quiet words lingered. Take care of yourself, Alice.

But another voice echoed louder. Vincent’s voice. Cold. Sharp. Cruel. “My only regret was ever signing a marriage contract with you.”

Hot tears slipped down my cheeks.

And yet, a treacherous part of me still wondered—when he finally learned of these children, would he hate me… or would it be the only thing that could ever make him stay?