Chapter 6
1751 Words
JENNA
Cold.
That’s the first thing I feel.
Cold pavement against my cheek. Cold air slicing through my lungs. Cold fear crawling up my spine.
Then—voices.
Muffled. Distant. Warped, like I’m underwater.
“Miss? Hey—hey, can you hear me?”
A man’s voice. Deep. Urgent. Close.
I try to open my eyes, but the world tilts violently, spinning into streaks of light and shadow. My stomach lurches. My fingers twitch uselessly against the concrete.
Something warm touches my shoulder.
“Stay with me,” the voice says again, firmer this time. “You’re bleeding. I need you to stay awake.”
Bleeding.
The word slices through the fog.
My baby.
I try to speak, but only a broken gasp escapes my lips. Pain shoots through my abdomen—sharp, hot, terrifying. My vision blurs again.
“s**t,” the man mutters. “Okay. I’m picking you up.”
Strong arms slide under me, lifting me off the ground. My head falls against a solid chest. I smell soap. Clean cotton. Warm skin.
Not Jaxon.
Someone else. Someone safe.
“Ambulance is five minutes out,” another voice says somewhere behind us.
“No time,” the man carrying me snaps. “She’s losing too much blood.”
I feel movement—fast, jarring. A car door opening. The world tilts again as he lays me across a seat.
“Stay with me,” he says, brushing hair from my face. “What’s your name?”
I try to answer, but darkness pulls at me, heavy and relentless.
“Jenna,” I whisper, barely audible.
“Okay, Jenna. I’m Ivan. I’m taking you to the hospital. You’re going to be okay.”
My baby.
I want to say it out loud. I want to scream it. But the darkness swallows me whole before I can.
**
White.
Blinding, sterile white.
I blink slowly, my eyes burning as the world comes back into focus. A ceiling. A fluorescent light. The steady beep of a monitor beside me.
Hospital.
My heart lurches.
My hands fly to my stomach—too fast. Pain rips through me, sharp and punishing.
A nurse rushes in. “Don’t move, sweetheart. You’re safe."
Safe.
The word means nothing.
“Please,” I choke out. “My baby—”
“Don’t panic,” she says gently. “The doctor will explain everything.”
My throat tightens. Tears blur my vision.
The door opens again, and a woman in scrubs steps inside. She’s young—late twenties maybe—with dark hair pulled into a bun and kind eyes that make my chest ache.
“Jenna?” she says softly. “I’m Dr. Ellis.”
I nod weakly, unable to speak.
She pulls a stool beside the bed and sits, her expression calm but serious.
“You lost a significant amount of blood,” she says. “You were brought in just in time.”
“Is my baby—” My voice cracks.
Her expression softens. “Your baby is alive.”
A sob breaks out of me—raw, shaking, uncontrollable. Relief floods my body so fast it hurts.
“But,” she continues gently, “you had a partial placental tear. It’s stabilized now, but you need rest. No stress. No physical strain. No emotional shocks if you can avoid them.”
No stress.
No shocks.
My mind flashes to Lila’s face twisted in rage.
To Jaxon’s cold voice telling me I was fired.
To Vivienne’s lipstick on his collar.
My stomach twists.
“I can’t…” I whisper. “They can’t know.”
Dr. Ellis tilts her head. “Who?”
“The father,” I breathe. “His family. They’re powerful. Dangerous. They’ll take the baby from me. Or force me to get rid of it. Or—”
My voice breaks.
Dr. Ellis places a gentle hand on my arm. “Jenna, no one can force you to do anything.”
“You don’t understand,” I whisper. “They can. They will.”
She hesitates, studying me.
“Please,” I beg, tears spilling down my cheeks. “If they come here—if they ask—tell them I miscarried.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Jenna… that’s a serious request.”
“I know.” My voice trembles. “But I’m begging you. I need to protect my baby. I can’t let them know.”
She looks torn—ethics warring with empathy.
“It’s your medical right,” she finally says. “I can’t disclose anything without your permission. If you tell me not to share your pregnancy status, I won’t.”
A sob of relief escapes me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She squeezes my hand. “You should also thank the man who brought you in. He refused to leave until we stabilized you.”
“Ivan,” I murmur.
She nods. “He’s in the waiting room. He said he didn’t know you, but he couldn’t leave you on the street.”
My chest tightens. A stranger cared more than the man I loved.
Dr. Ellis stands. “I’ll give you a moment to rest. I’ll be back to check on you soon.”
She leaves quietly.
For a moment, the room is still.
Silent. Safe.
Then—
The door swings open. And the temperature drops.
Lila Vale steps inside like she owns the hospital. Her heels click against the tile. Her coat is pristine white, her hair perfectly styled, her expression carved from ice.
She doesn’t look at the machines or at the blood pressure cuff on my arm. She doesn’t look at the IV in my hand.
Instead, she looks at me like I’m something she stepped on.
“Well,” she says, voice dripping with disdain. “Look at the mess you’ve made.”
My throat tightens. She walks closer, her perfume sharp and suffocating.
“I warned you,” she says. “I told you to stay away from my son. But girls like you never listen.”
I grip the blanket, knuckles white.
“You think crying will help?” she scoffs. “It won’t. You’re done here. Whatever fantasy you had about Jaxon ends now.”
She reaches into her purse. She pulls out a checkbook.
“I’m giving you one chance,” she says, flipping it open. “Take the money. Leave New York. Today.”
My voice shakes. “I don’t want your money.”
“You will,” she says coldly. “Everyone does.”
She writes something—fast, practiced—and tears the check out.
This time, it had two hundred thousand dollars written on it. She holds it toward me.
“You will disappear,” she says. “And you will not contact my son again.”
My heart pounds. I open my mouth to speak—
But the door bursts open. And Jaxon walks in. His eyes go straight to me.
His expression shatters.
“Jenna…” he breathes.
I felt some warmth for a second. And everything inside me breaks.
But then Jaxon stops in the doorway. He turned cold. His expression shutters the moment he sees his mother holding the check. His eyes flick from her hand to my face, and something inside him hardens.
“What’s that?” he asks his mother, voice flat.
Lila doesn’t miss a beat.
“It’s for her medical bill,” she says smoothly, sliding the check into her purse. “The hospital asked for an upfront deposit.”
A lie.
I open my mouth—
But nothing comes out.
Jaxon nods once. “That was… considerate of you.”
My stomach twists. He believes her.
He steps closer to my bed, but the warmth from earlier is gone. His posture is stiff, his jaw tight, his eyes unreadable.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, but the question sounds like something he’s obligated to say, not something he wants to know.
I swallow. “I’m… fine.”
He nods again, expression still blank.
Lila steps forward, folding her arms. “Actually, Jaxon, there’s something you should know.”
My heart stops.
No.
No, no, no—
“Ms. Hart is pregnant.”
The words hit the room like a bomb.
Jaxon freezes.
His eyes snap to mine—wide, stunned, disbelieving. His breath catches. His lips part, but no sound comes out.
He looks like someone just ripped the ground out from under him.
“Pregnant?” he finally manages, voice hoarse. “Jenna… is that true?”
My throat closes. I can’t speak or breathe.
I can’t tell him the truth—not with Lila watching me like a predator waiting for the kill.
Before I can force out a word—
The door swings open again. And Vivienne walks in.
Her heels click sharply against the tile. Her perfume floods the room. Her smile is bright, practiced, poisonous.
“There you are,” she says, striding straight to Jaxon. “You’re taking forever.”
Jaxon stiffens. “Vivienne, I told you to wait in the lobby.”
She ignores him. She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him—
right in front of me.
Her body presses against his. Her cheek brushes his jaw. Her fingers curl into his coat like she belongs there.
Like she owns him. My heart cracks.
Vivienne pulls back just enough to glance at me, her smile turning razor‑sharp.
“Who’s pregnant?” she asks sweetly.
Jaxon doesn’t answer.
He’s still staring at me. Confused.
The room feels too small. Suffocating.
Vivienne’s hand slides down Jaxon’s arm, possessive and deliberate.
Lila watches me with triumph in her eyes.
And Jaxon… Jaxon looks like he’s waiting for me to speak. To confess. But I can’t. My lips tremble. My vision blurs. My chest tightens until I can barely breathe.
I whisper the only word I can manage.
“No.”
Jaxon flinches. Vivienne smirks. Lila exhales in relief.
And the monitor beside me spikes in a frantic rhythm.
Jaxon takes a step toward me.
“Jenna—”
But the nurse rushes in, alarmed by the monitor.
“Sir, you need to step back. Her heart rate is unstable.”
Jaxon hesitates.
Vivienne pulls him toward the door.
Lila blocks his path back to me.
And I lie there, shaking, breaking—
As the man I love is pulled away from me.
The door closes.
And everything goes silent.
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