I wake to the steady beep of the heart monitor in the cold clinic.
For a moment, I panic, as my mind takes in my surroundings—medical equipment, antiseptic smell, white walls—then, I remember everything.
The alley. The blood.
Adrian.
Dr. Reeves' voice, clinical and calm:You're pregnant.
My hand flies to my stomach. It's still flat, obviously, since I'm only ten weeks.
Ten weeks pregnant. I can barely believe it, and yet, it makes sense. I'd chalked up all my symptoms to stress, but now, I know. I'd slept with a random man, unprotected, and now, that one moment of irresponsibility has changed my entire life.
"Miss Romano?" I jump slightly at the sight of Dr. Reeves in the doorway.
"Doctor." I pull the sheets tighter around my body. The action makes me feel a little more secure, which is absolutely insane considering that I watched the man who brought me here murder someone.
"I am glad to see you awake," he says, coming closer. He's hesitant, like I'm going to flee at any moment. And as much as I'd like to, I have nowhere to go. "I need to examine you."
"Is the baby alright?" The weight settles on my chest before he can answer. I've just learned that I'm pregnant, and I've barely had time to process it, but I know that I want this child.
"The baby is fine. You suffered a subchorionic hemorrhage—bleeding between the uterine wall and the placenta. It can happen in early pregnancy, especially after trauma. You need rest and monitoring." He pauses. "I'd like to have you remain here?—"
"Then I'll stay," I say quickly. "I'll do whatever is necessary."
The doctor stares grimly at me. "Mr. Nero would be more comfortable if you were transferred to his home."
"Mr. Nero?"
He nods and looks at me with a slight hint of judgment in his eyes. My face turns red, and I know immediately who he is talking about. Adrian.
Adrian Nero.
My brain fires up as the name clicks into place.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I'd slept with and gotten pregnant by Adrian Nero. The heir to one of the oldest New York families. They were in the news constantly for business acquisitions and were well-known art collectors.
It explains why Adrian was at the gala that night.
What it doesn't explain is what I saw in the alley. Because that wasn't a businessman—that was something else entirely.
I need to leave.
The thought comes sharp and clear through the fog. I need to get out of here. Find Gabe, figure out what the hell he'd gotten us both into, and protect my child.
"Miss?" The doctor's voice is soft. "Your heart rate is spiking. I need you to calm down."
Except I can't calm down. I'm pregnant, and the father of my child murdered someone.
"I need to get out of here." The words come out choked as I struggle to stop hyperventilating.
I push myself up slowly. Everything hurts. My ribs scream. My face throbs where I was hit. There's an IV in my arm, and I wince as it pulls slightly.
My clothes are folded on a chair in the corner. Still covered in blood. I stare at them for a long moment, bile rising in my throat.
"I'm sorry, but I can't allow you to leave."
