Pregnant Between Two Billionaires

Chapter 3

Lexi’s POV

My eyes fluttered open, heavy and slow. The ceiling above me stretched endlessly, carved with gold patterns that shimmered faintly in the soft light. It was rich, detailed, elegant.

Then it all came rushing back.

The rain. The crash. My baby

I pushed myself up too fast, and a sharp pain shot through my head. I groaned, pressing a hand to my temple.

That’s when I noticed the tubes running into my arm, a drip feeding into my vein. But this wasn’t a hospital. The sheets were too soft. The setting was far from that of a hospital.

Where the hell was I?

Low voices floated from somewhere beyond the room, muffled but close. I couldn’t make out the words, only the steady hum of conversation.

My pulse quickened. Footsteps. Getting closer.

I lay back down in a rush, forcing my eyes shut. My chest rose and fell in shallow breaths as I tried to stay still.

My heart pounded so loud, I was sure they’d hear it.

“How long is this going to take?” A thick voice, low but soft, carried through the air.

“Not too long,” another voice answered, calmer, more clinical. I assumed he was the doctor.

“You don’t have to wait, sir,” a third voice chimed in. “We’ll handle it from here.”

“No,” the first voice came again, firmer this time, though still gentle. “I won’t leave until I’m sure she’s okay. I came here for a meeting, but I’m not walking out knowing someone is on the brink of death because of an accident.”

My chest tightened. Who were these people?

A sudden, sharp pain ripped through my skull. I couldn’t hold it in, I groaned, the sound slipping out before I could stop it.

The room went silent but broke almost immediately with a shuffle of movement.

“She’s awake,” someone whispered.

Footsteps approached, steady and unhurried. I kept my eyes half-lidded, unsure if I should reveal how awake I really was. Then his shadow fell over me, blocking out the soft golden light of the room.

I blinked, and then I saw him.

Tall. Broad shoulders that carried authority effortlessly. His suit was dark, perfectly tailored, the kind that screamed wealth. But it wasn’t just the suit, it was the way he stood, calm yet commanding, as though the world bent to his decisions. His face was sharp, carved with confidence, but his eyes… his eyes startled me most. Deep, dark, and unreadable, yet carrying a flicker of something I couldn’t place.

“Don’t move too fast,” he said quietly, his voice the same one I had heard earlier, steady, almost gentle, though it carried undeniable power. “You hit your head hard.”

I swallowed, my throat dry. “Where… where am I?”

“In a safe place,” he replied. His gaze held mine for a moment, as if weighing whether I deserved the truth. “Not a hospital. But you’re being cared for.”

Safe.

The word meant nothing anymore. I didn’t even trust it when it came from my own people.

Confusion pressed harder than the pain in my skull. “Why? Why am I here?”

He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. “Because you would have died out there if no one brought you in.”

His words sank deep, heavier than the throb i was feeling in my head.

“Do you have family we can call?” he asked, his tone softer now, almost cautious.

My lips parted, but no sound came out.

Family. The word alone made my chest ache.

I licked my dry lips. “My phone… I just need my phone.”

He hesitated before answering, and the pause was enough to tell me something was wrong. His eyes softened, but his voice was steady. “Your phone didn’t survive the crash. It blew up with your car.”

The air left my lungs. My phone was gone. My car. Even the little money i had.

Everything… gone.

His question came again, firmer this time. “Is there someone I can call for you. Family? Friends?”

I turned my face away. My fingers twisted in the blanket, knuckles white, but it was useless. The tears came anyway, hot, unrelenting, sliding down until they disappeared into my clothes.

The universe was being unfair. I had done nothing to deserve this pain.

For a while my sob filled the silence in the room. Ugly. Raw.

I hated the sound.

I hated how weak it made me feel.

At last, he let out a quiet sigh. “I’ll be leaving soon, but I’ll have you transferred to a hospital and make sure you’re taken care of.”

Maybe he thought those words would ease me, but instead they cracked something open. I wiped at my tears, and before I could stop myself, the words slipped out.

“Take me with you.”