Chapter 8
The medical wing of the Montesi compound was a state-of-the-art facility, hidden behind reinforced steel doors and guarded by heavily armed men. The room was bathed in bright, sterile white light, a sharp contrast to the warm, vivid colors of the rest of the estate.
Serena lay on the crisp, white hospital bed, her elegant maternity dress replaced by a soft, cotton gown. Monitors beeped steadily in the background, tracking her heart rate and the fetal heartbeat of her unborn daughter. Her fair, rosy skin was pale and drawn, the physical and emotional trauma of the night taking a severe toll on her body.
Alaric stood by the window, his large, deeply masculine frame casting a long shadow across the pristine floor. He had not slept. He was still wearing the same tailored three-piece suit, though he had finally removed the tie. He watched the perimeter of his estate, ensuring his fortress was impenetrable.
The private physician, a quiet, older man with a stethoscope draped around his neck, finished checking the readouts on the monitor. He turned to Alaric, his expression grave.
"Her blood pressure is dangerously high, Mr. Montesi," the doctor said softly, his American accent professional and cautious. "The physical trauma of the fall, combined with the extreme psychological stress, is triggering early contractions. She is only eight months along. We need to keep her absolutely calm, or she will go into premature labor."
Alaric’s jaw clenched. "Do whatever is necessary to stop the contractions, Doctor. Keep her and the child safe. Money and resources are no object."
"I have administered a mild sedative and medication to relax the uterine muscles," the doctor replied. "But she needs complete peace. No stress. No bad news."
The doctor bowed his head respectfully and quietly exited the room, leaving the father and daughter alone.
Alaric walked over to the side of the bed. He pulled up a chair and sat down, carefully taking Serena’s small, cold hand in his large, calloused one. The heavy signet ring pressed gently against her skin.
Serena opened her eyes, the sedative making them heavy and unfocused. "Dad?"
"I am here, Serena," Alaric murmured, his deep voice softening into a rare, tender frequency. "You are safe. The baby is safe."
"I feel... I feel broken, Dad," Serena whispered, a single tear escaping the corner of her eye and rolling down her cheek. "I gave him everything. I tried to be a good wife. And he looked at me with such disgust... just because I wasn't carrying a boy."
"Bastian is a weak man," Alaric said firmly, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. "Weak men fear strong women. He knew that your daughter would grow up with the Montesi blood in her veins. He knew she would outshine him, just as you outshine him. He wanted a son with that girl so he could control the heir. He could never control you."
"Are you going to kill him?" Serena asked. The question was not filled with horror, but with a cold, terrifying acceptance. She was her father's daughter, raised in a world where betrayal was paid for in blood.
Alaric looked at the heart monitor, watching the steady, rhythmic spike of his granddaughter's heartbeat. It was a beautiful, defiant sound.
"I am going to ensure that he never causes you a single moment of fear ever again," Alaric promised, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. "You focus on bringing the true heir into this world. I will handle the garbage."
May you like
Suddenly, the heavy steel door of the medical wing buzzed. Dominic, the lead capo, stepped inside. His face was grim, and he carried an encrypted tablet.
"Boss," Dominic said, glancing nervously at Serena. "We have a situation. Bastian didn't run."
