Billionaire's Regret: I'm Their Father

Chapter 2

The sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic stung Wendy's nostrils before she even opened her eyes. She shifted slightly beneath the scratchy hospital sheet, a sharp prick in the back of her hand telling her that an IV line was already running.

Footsteps echoed outside the room, heavy and purposeful.

Wendy kept her eyes closed, forcing her breathing to remain slow and steady as the door clicked open.

"How is she, Dr. Vance?"

Everett's voice carried through the quiet room, crisp and unbothered. He didn't sound like a man whose wife had just collapsed onto a hardwood floor; he sounded like an executive inquiring about a delayed delivery.

An older man sighed, the rustle of a clipboard filling the silence. Dr. Vance had been the Everett family's personal physician for over a decade.

"She collapsed from emotional distress and physical exhaustion," Dr. Vance said, his tone stern. "Frankly, Everett, whatever took place between you two before she fainted—"

"She's fine," Everett dismissed, stepping closer to the bed.

A dark memory flashed through his mind—the way he had unraveled on that bed hours ago, taking her with an unbridled hunger he couldn't control. In every other part of his life, he was a master of restraint. In bed, she was the one thing he couldn't govern. He had hated himself for it and convinced himself it had been one last time before cutting her out of his life.

"She just threw a pathetic tantrum over money," Everett added coldly, burying the flicker of guilt behind a wall of indifference.

"She is not just fine, Everett," Dr. Vance corrected sharply, stepping between Everett and the bed. "Your wife is five weeks pregnant. This pregnancy is high-risk. She needs absolute calm and bed rest—any shock or strain could cost her the child."

Underneath the blanket, Wendy's fingers clenched into the mattress. Her pulse hammered in her throat.

Her secret was out.

Everett went completely still.

For one long, suffocating moment, the only sound in the room was the frantic beeping of the heart monitor.

"Pregnant?" Everett's voice dropped into a harsh whisper. "Are you certain?"

"The blood test is indisputable," Dr. Vance replied.

His hands curled into white-knuckled fists at his sides as a fierce rush of joy struck him.

He was going to be a father.

But the warmth lasted only a heartbeat before the memory of their divorce crashed into him.

She had demanded fifty million dollars, signed the papers, and intended to leave.

In Everett's mind, the truth became twisted into something else.

"She knew," he said through gritted teeth. "She was going to leave with my child."

Before he could say another word, the door swung open with a dramatic creak, cutting off Dr. Vance before he could respond.

"Everett! Oh, darling, I came as fast as I could!"

Chloe burst into the room, her designer heels clicking against the tile. She rushed toward Everett and buried her face against his chest.

"I heard your wife fell ill," Chloe said, clutching his suit jacket. "Is she okay? Oh, Everett… I was so worried it would delay our wedding plans. I can't bear the thought of us waiting any longer."

Everett wrapped an arm around Chloe's waist, his grip firm and protective—a gesture he had never once offered Wendy in two full years of marriage. The tension vanished from his face as he looked at Chloe with unmistakable tenderness.

Wendy watched the woman who had spent years chasing this moment melt into her husband's embrace.

It felt like someone was tearing her heart out with bare hands.

Then Everett delivered the final blow.

"There's no need to worry," Everett murmured, his tone softening into a gentle cadence Wendy had never heard him use before. "Nothing is going to delay our wedding."

Chloe pulled back and looked up at him.

"What did the doctor say?"

Everett looked past Chloe, his dark eyes fixing directly on Wendy's still, pale face. Though her eyelids were closed, Wendy could feel the weight of his stare.

"She took the fifty million and was ready to leave quietly," Everett said. "But she's carrying my heir."

Chloe froze, her smile vanishing.

"She's… what?"

"It doesn't change anything," Everett said slowly. "Wendy stays here until the baby is born. She takes her check, signs the final papers, and leaves. We can still get married."

"You've always wanted to be a mother, Chloe," he went on, loudly enough to echo through the room. "Consider this her final service to us. When she gives birth, the baby is yours. You will raise my child as your own."

Chloe's lips curved into a smile, her hands resting possessively over Everett's arm.

"Oh, Everett… an heir? Ours?"

A wet gasp tore through the quiet of the private room.

Everett stopped.

Chloe stiffened.

Wendy's eyes snapped open.

Red-rimmed, bloodshot, and burning with raw fury, her gaze locked onto the couple standing at her bedside. Tears streamed silently down her pale cheeks, but her jaw was set so hard the muscle in her cheek twitched.

Slowly and painfully, Wendy pushed herself up against the pillows. The movement dragged the IV line taut, but she didn't so much as wince.

Her hand slammed down over her belly, fingers digging into the fabric of the gown as if shielding her child from a pair of vultures.

"Take my child?"

Wendy's voice was barely a raspy whisper, but it sliced through the room with precision.

She stared directly into Everett's eyes, ignoring Chloe completely.

"I want to see who dares take my child from me."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, thick with two years of buried pain.

"You gave me money to throw me away. You called me a substitute. You humiliated me. And now you stand there with your mistress and talk about my baby like a piece of property you can simply hand over?"

Chloe pulled back a step behind Everett's shoulder.

"Everett… she's shouting at us…"

"Leave!" Wendy screamed.

"Wendy, your heart rate—" Dr. Vance stepped forward in alarm.

"I said leave!"

Wendy gasped for air, her chest heaving violently beneath the monitor wires. She pointed a shaking finger straight at Everett's face.

"You listen to me, Everett. Over my dead body. You hear me? Over my dead body will this woman ever touch a single hair on my baby's head!"

Everett's face darkened. His jaw clenched as he took a heavy step toward the bed, his shadow towering over her.

"You're confused, Wendy."

His voice was frighteningly calm.

"This child is mine. You are only carrying it."

Wendy's breath caught.

"And you have no name on this hospital's records," Everett went on, quieter now, which made it worse. "No lawyer of your own, no family who knows where you are. I can keep you comfortable here for the next eight months, or I can make your life very difficult in ways that have nothing to do with money. Your choice."

"Give birth to my child. Sign the papers. Then disappear."

The threat settled over her like a lid closing.

Her fingers curled into the sheets.

Wendy glared at him, and whatever last remnant of love she had carried for two years finally burned to cold, black ash.

"Then come and take it," she whispered, wiping the tears from her chin, her eyes locked onto his.

"Try it."