When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the muted, soft light of a luxurious bedroom that was distinctly not my own. The air smelled faintly of cedarwood and cold rain—Adrian's scent.
"You're awake."
I turned my head. Adrian was sitting in an armchair by the window, a laptop resting on his knees. He looked exhausted; his tie was discarded, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone.
"I passed out," I murmured, my voice raspy. My hand immediately went to my stomach.
"The baby is fine. Dr. Stern came to the penthouse to check on you," Adrian said, setting his laptop aside and walking over to the bed. He poured a glass of warm water and helped me sit up to drink it. "You've been asleep for fourteen hours. The adrenaline crash nearly stopped your heart."
"Vincent?" I asked,
