Elena's POV
"Where is my son?"
My voice echoed through the hospital hallway, loud enough to make several nurses turn and stare.
Sophia Carrington stood at the end of the corridor, her phone still raised, that cruel smile still on her perfect face.
"Relax, Elena," she said sweetly. "I'm just taking a few pictures for my Instagram. Hospitals are so dramatic, don't you think?"
Adrian appeared beside me, slightly out of breath. He must have run after me. "Sophia, leave. Now."
"This is a public hospital, Adrian. I have every right to be here." Sophia lowered her phone and walked toward us. She looked exactly as I remembered—beautiful, polished, expensive. Everything I'd never been good enough to compete with.
"You have no right to be near my son," I said, stepping forward.
"Your son?" Sophia's eyebrows rose. "Funny, I thought he was Adrian's son too. Or are you still keeping secrets?"
Before I could respond, Dr. Winters appeared around the corner with Ethan in a wheelchair. My baby looked tired but okay, and the relief that flooded through me almost knocked me over.
"Mama!" Ethan called out when he saw me.
I rushed to him, kneeling beside the wheelchair. "Hi, baby. How are you feeling?"
"The tests were boring," Ethan said with a yawn. "But Dr. Winters gave me a sticker."
He showed me a dinosaur sticker on his hospital gown, and I smiled despite the chaos around us.
"That's wonderful, sweetheart."
"Ms. Hart?" Dr. Winters looked concerned. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine," I lied. "Just some unexpected visitors."
Dr. Winters glanced at Sophia, then at Adrian, and her expression sharpened. "This is a pediatric recovery floor. Only family members are allowed."
"I'm practically family," Sophia said, but her smile was strained. "Adrian and I have a very close history."
"Then you'll understand when I ask you to leave," Dr. Winters said firmly. "Hospital policy. Family only."
"Of course." Sophia's eyes glittered with malice. "I was just leaving anyway. Adrian, we still need to have that meeting. Twenty-four hours, remember?"
She walked away, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor. But not before giving me one last look that promised this wasn't over.
Adrian moved to my side as Dr. Winters wheeled Ethan back to his room. "I'm sorry. I don't know how she found out which hospital—"
"It doesn't matter now," I cut him off. "What matters is keeping her away from Ethan."
We followed Dr. Winters into Ethan's room and got him settled back into bed. Our son was already half asleep, exhausted from the tests.
"I'll be back to check on him in a few hours," Dr. Winters said. "Try to get some rest, both of you."
After she left, Adrian and I stood on opposite sides of Ethan's bed in heavy silence.
"You should go back to the suite," I said quietly. "Get some sleep."
"What about you?"
"I'm staying here. With Ethan."
Adrian looked like he wanted to argue but nodded instead. "Okay. Call me if you need anything."
He left, and I sank into the chair beside Ethan's bed, watching my son sleep.
But sleep didn't come for me.
At midnight, I was still awake, my mind spinning with everything that had happened. Sophia's threats. The blackmail. The fraud allegations against Adrian's father.
And underneath it all, the constant fear that I was making a mistake letting Adrian back into our lives.
I got up to check the hallway—old habits from years of looking over my shoulder—and froze.
Adrian was sitting in one of the waiting room chairs, his head back, eyes closed. But I could tell from his breathing he wasn't asleep either.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
His eyes opened. "I couldn't sleep. Kept thinking about Sophia finding Ethan's room. So I came back to stand guard."
Something in my chest tightened. "You don't need to do that."
"Yes, I do." Adrian stood and walked toward me. "She's dangerous, Elena. And she's threatened my son. I'm not taking any chances."
My son. Our son. The pronouns kept shifting, and I didn't know which one was right anymore.
"The nurse's station is right there," I pointed out. "They won't let anyone unauthorized into Ethan's room."
"Sophia has money and connections. She could bribe someone, charm someone." Adrian ran a hand through his hair. "I know how she operates. And I'm not leaving."
We stood there in the quiet hallway, exhaustion and worry binding us together.
"Fine," I said finally. "But you're not sleeping in that chair. It'll destroy your back."
"I'll be fine—"
"There's a small couch in Ethan's room. You can sleep there."
Adrian looked surprised. "You're letting me stay in his room?"
"I'm letting you be uncomfortable in his room while I take the chair," I corrected. "Don't read into it."
But there was something almost like a smile on Adrian's face as we walked back to Ethan's room together.
At 2 AM, I gave up on trying to sleep.
I sat in the chair beside Ethan's bed, watching his small chest rise and fall. The machines beeped their steady rhythm, and somewhere down the hall, another child cried for their mother.
This was my life now. Hospital rooms and heart monitors and the constant fear that something would go wrong.
"You should rest."
Adrian's voice made me jump. I'd thought he was asleep on the couch.
"I can't," I admitted. "Every time I close my eyes, I see him on that operating table."
"Me too."
We sat in silence for a moment, two parents united by fear.
"Can I ask you something?" Adrian said quietly. "What was it like? When he was born?"
The question caught me off guard. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because I should have been there. And I wasn't." Adrian sat up, looking at me through the dim light. "Tell me. Please."
I should have said no. Should have kept that memory to myself, punishment for all the years Adrian had missed.
But maybe it was the exhaustion, or the fear, or the strange intimacy of 2 AM in a hospital room.
"I was alone," I said simply. "Maya was stuck in traffic. The labor came fast—only four hours. I had Ethan by myself in a hospital room with just nurses."
Adrian's face crumpled. "Elena—"
"When they put him in my arms, he was so small. So perfect." I looked at our sleeping son. "He had your eyes. I knew it immediately. And I cried because he was beautiful and because I was so angry that you'd never see him."
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize." I wiped my eyes. "I'm not telling you this for an apology. You asked what it was like, and I'm telling you. It was terrifying and lonely and the best moment of my life. That's what it was like."
Adrian stood and moved closer, stopping just short of touching me. "I can't change the past. I can't give you back those moments. But Elena, I swear I will be there for every moment going forward. Every birthday, every milestone, every scraped knee and bad dream. I'll be there."
"Pretty words again," I said, but there was less bite in my voice.
"Not words. A promise."
We stared at each other across the small space, and for just a second, I almost believed him.
Then Ethan stirred, his eyes fluttering open.
"Mama?" he mumbled sleepily.
"I'm here, baby."
His eyes found Adrian. "Daddy's here too?"
The word still shocked me every time.
"Yeah, buddy," Adrian said softly. "I'm here too."
"Good." Ethan yawned. "I like when you're both here. It feels safe."
He drifted back to sleep, completely unaware of the bomb he'd just dropped.
Adrian and I looked at each other over our son's bed.
"He feels safe with us," Adrian whispered. "Together."
"Don't—"
"I'm not saying anything except what he said. He feels safe." Adrian's voice was gentle. "Maybe that's all that matters right now."
Maybe it was. Or maybe I was too tired to fight anymore.
"Stay," I heard myself say. "For tonight. Stay here with us."
Adrian's eyes widened with surprise and something that looked like hope. "Okay."
We settled back into our positions—me in the chair, Adrian on the couch—but this time the silence felt different. Less hostile. More like a truce.
I must have dozed off because when I woke up, pale morning light was filtering through the window.
And Adrian was gone.
Panic seized me until I saw the note on the bedside table.
Went to get coffee and breakfast. Be back soon. - A
I was reaching for the note when my phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
Nice family moment last night. I got some beautiful photos through the window. See you at the meeting, or see them on the front page. Your choice. - S
My blood ran cold.
Attached to the message was a photo of me and Adrian in Ethan's room at 2 AM, standing close, talking intimately.
It looked like we were together. Like we were a couple.
And Sophia was threatening to release it to the press.
I was still staring at my phone when Adrian walked back in with coffee and pastries.
"Good morning," he started, then saw my face. "What's wrong?"
Wordlessly, I showed him the message.
Adrian's expression darkened as he read it. "She's been watching us."
"She has pictures of Ethan." My voice shook. "Of us together in his room. She's going to spin this into some scandalous story—"
"I won't let her."
"How are you going to stop her? She's clearly been stalking the hospital. She has evidence that makes it look like we're—" I couldn't finish the sentence.
"Like we're what? A family?" Adrian set down the coffee and moved closer. "Elena, maybe that's not the worst thing."
"Are you insane? I don't want to be tabloid fodder!"
"Then let me meet with her. Pay the blackmail. Make this go away."
"And when she comes back for more?"
"Then I'll deal with it then." Adrian's jaw set stubbornly. "But right now, I need to protect you and Ethan. That's all I care about."
Before I could argue, Dr. Winters knocked and entered.
"Good morning," she said cheerfully. "I have Ethan's test results from last night, and I need to discuss something with both of you."
The way she said it made my stomach drop.
"What is it?" I asked. "Is Ethan okay?"
Dr. Winters hesitated. "He's stable. But the tests showed something unexpected. A genetic marker that increases his risk of developing the same condition again later in life."
"What does that mean?" Adrian demanded.
"It means Ethan will need monitoring for the rest of his life. Annual check-ups, possibly medication, lifestyle modifications." Dr. Winters looked between us. "And it means any siblings he might have in the future would need genetic testing as well."
Siblings. Future children.
The implication hung in the air.
"There's something else," Dr. Winters continued. "This particular genetic marker is rare. It typically passes through the paternal line, which means, Mr. Blackwell, you should be tested as well. And any other children you might have."
Adrian went very still. "I don't have any other children."
"Are you certain? This marker is hereditary. If Ethan has it, and it came from you, then any biological children you've fathered would potentially—"
"I'm certain." Adrian's voice was firm. "Ethan is my only child."
Dr. Winters made a note on her tablet. "Alright. Then we'll just monitor Ethan closely. I'll schedule the genetic testing for you this week."
After she left, Adrian and I sat in stunned silence.
"A lifetime of monitoring," I said quietly. "Annual check-ups. He'll never be completely free of this."
"But he'll be alive," Adrian countered. "That's what matters."
He was right. But it still hurt.
My phone buzzed again.
Another message from Sophia.
Tick tock, Adrian. Nineteen hours left. Bring the money to the address I'm sending, or tomorrow morning the world knows everything. Including that adorable little boy's medical history. I'm sure the tabloids would love to know about his genetic condition.
I showed Adrian the message, and I watched his face transform from concern to pure rage.
"She's threatening to expose Ethan's medical information," he said, his voice dangerous. "That's not just blackmail. That's a HIPAA violation."
"Which means she has someone inside the hospital feeding her information."
We looked at each other as the realization hit.
Someone on the hospital staff was working with Sophia.
And they had access to everything.
Ethan's medical records. His room number. Our schedules.
We weren't safe here.
"We need to move him," I said urgently. "To a different hospital, a private facility—"
"No." Adrian was already pulling out his phone. "Moving him could complicate his recovery. But I can get private security. My personal team. They'll guard his room twenty-four seven."
"And what about the meeting with Sophia?"
Adrian looked at me, and I saw something fierce and protective in his eyes. "I'm going. But I'm not bringing money."
"Then what are you bringing?"
"Evidence." Adrian's smile was cold. "If she wants to play dirty, she's about to learn I can play dirtier."
Before I could ask what he meant, Ethan woke up.
"Morning, Mama," he said with a yawn. "Morning, Daddy. Are we having breakfast together?"
And just like that, we had to put on smiles and pretend everything was fine.
But as I watched Adrian help Ethan with his breakfast, making airplane noises with the spoon and making our son giggle, I realized something terrifying.
I was starting to trust him again.
And that might be the most dangerous thing of all.