Chapter 12
1369 Words
Lora’s POV
Pain spread through my body in uneven waves as Drake carried me through the mansion. Voices echoed around us, hurried footsteps following close behind, but none of it settled properly in my mind. Everything felt distant compared to the terror tightening inside my chest.
My fingers remained locked around the front of his shirt. I could barely breathe past the fear rising in my throat.
Please let the baby be alright.
The thought repeated over and over inside my head until it became the only thing I could hear.
“Call the doctor immediately,” Drake said sharply as he pushed open the bedroom door. “Now.”
The servants scattered instantly.
He lowered me carefully onto the bed, one hand remaining at my waist as though he still expected me to slip away from him. His face looked colder than I had ever seen it, every line in his expression carved tight with restrained anger.
“What hurts?” he asked.
I swallowed hard. “My side.”
His eyes stayed on me for a long moment, searching my face too carefully.
“Only your side?”
The question made my pulse jump.
“Yes.” I lied.
The doctor arrived barely five minutes later with two nurses behind him. They moved quickly around me, checking my pulse, examining the bruising already beginning to darken along my side.
“You were fortunate,” the doctor said after several tense minutes. “The injury does not appear severe, but you need rest. Excessive stress after a fall can still create complications.”
Complications.
My stomach tightened painfully at the word.
One of the nurses pressed lightly against my abdomen during the examination and panic shot through me instantly.
I caught her wrist before I could stop myself.
“I’m fine,” I said too quickly.
The room fell quiet for a brief second. The nurse blinked in surprise while the doctor looked at me carefully.
“Mrs. Grayson,” he said gently, “we need to make sure there is no internal injury.”
“I said I’m alright.”
My voice came out sharper than I intended.
Drake had not spoken once during the examination, but I could feel his attention shifting again.
The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly. “Her pulse is elevated. That may simply be from the shock.”
“It is,” I answered immediately.
Drake finally moved then, stepping closer to the bed until his shadow fell across me.
“That will be all,” he said calmly.
The doctor hesitated. “Mr. Grayson, perhaps we should continue monitoring for a few hours in case the pain worsens.”
“She’ll rest here.”
There was no room for argument in his tone.
The doctor nodded quickly before gathering his things. Within moments, the room emptied, leaving only the sound of the closing door and my uneven breathing.
Silence settled heavily between us.
Drake loosened the cuffs of his sleeves slowly before walking toward the small table near the fireplace where the first aid supplies had been left behind.
“You should let the nurses handle that,” I murmured weakly as he picked up the antiseptic.
“They already did.”
His voice remained even.
“Then why are you still carrying it around?”
He glanced at me briefly before sitting beside me on the edge of the bed.
“Because the bandage is loose.”
I looked down instinctively. He was right. Part of the dressing along my side had shifted during the fall.
Heat crept into my cheeks as he reached for the hem of my shirt.
“I can do it myself.”
“You’re shaking.”
The words silenced me immediately because I realized he was right again.
Carefully, he lifted the fabric just enough to expose the bandage. His touch was gentle, but every brush of his fingers against my skin made my heartbeat stumble strangely.
I tried focusing on the ceiling instead of the man sitting too close beside me.
“You keep getting hurt in my house,” he said quietly after a moment.
Something about the sentence unsettled me.
Not because of the words themselves, but because of the anger hidden underneath them.
“It was an accident.”
“No.” His fingers paused briefly against my waist before continuing again. “I don’t think it was.”
I looked at him then.
His expression remained calm, but his eyes had darkened into something far more dangerous.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he continued.
My throat tightened instantly.
He secured the fresh bandage before finally lifting his gaze fully to mine.
“What exactly is your history with Chloe and the man she brought to the house?”
The question landed heavily between us. For a moment, I could only stare at him.
So he noticed.
Of course he noticed.
The humiliation from that night rushed back so violently that it almost made me dizzy again. Jackson’s cold eyes. Chloe’s smile. The sound of the divorce papers hitting the table.
I looked away quickly.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It matters enough for you to panic every time you see them.”
My fingers curled tightly into the sheets.
Drake leaned back slightly, watching me with the same unreadable patience that always made me feel exposed.
“I already know there’s history,” he said calmly. “I’m asking you to tell me yourself.”
Something inside me weakened at those words.
Maybe it was exhaustion. Or the way he had carried me like I mattered.
Or maybe I was simply tired of carrying everything alone.
“Jackson was my husband,” I whispered.
The room became unbearably quiet.
“We were together for years. I worked while he built his company. I supported him through everything.” My voice trembled despite my efforts to steady it.
“Then the moment he became successful, he divorced me.”
Drake said nothing.
His silence somehow made it easier to continue.
“I walked into our house and found him with Chloe.” The memory burned painfully inside my chest.
“They humiliated me together. She enjoyed every second of it.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“He called me useless,” I continued softly. “Said I was nothing.”
For the first time since I met him, something dangerous flickered openly across Drake’s face.
“And Chloe?” he asked quietly.
I let out a small laugh that sounded more broken than amused.
“She likes making people feel small.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
I expected him to question me further, but instead he remained silent for several long seconds.
Then he stood.
The sudden movement startled me slightly.
He walked toward the windows, one hand slipping into his pocket while the other loosened his tie slowly. The city lights beyond the glass reflected faintly against his expression, sharpening the coldness already there.
When he finally spoke again, his voice had changed.
“Nobody touches what belongs to me.”
The words sent an unexpected shiver through me.
I looked down immediately, unsettled by the strange warmth that rose into my chest despite everything.
This marriage was supposed to be a contract. So why did those words affect me at all?
Drake turned back toward me slowly.
“You’re my wife now,” he continued calmly. “If Chloe or Jackson attempt something like this again, you tell me immediately.”
I nodded faintly, suddenly too exhausted to keep holding myself together.
Drake studied me for a moment before walking toward the windows again, loosening his tie slowly as silence settled between us.
For some reason, the room no longer felt as cold as it had earlier.
Maybe because for the first time since everything fell apart, someone had finally listened.
A knock interrupted the silence.
Drake turned slightly. “Come in.”
Bruno stepped into the room, composed as always, a dark file resting in his hand.
“Sir,” he said respectfully before looking toward me briefly. “The medical file you requested is ready.”
- Writer
