His Obsession: Bound to the Ruthless Billionaire

Chapter 4

Adrianna's POV

(6 weeks after that night)

The first thing I heard was a steady, rhythmic beeping. When I pried my eyes open, the white ceiling told me everything I needed to know.

Hospital.

I tried to sit up, but a gentle hand pressed my shoulder back down. "Easy there," a soft voice said. I turned my head to see a nurse, her kind eyes framed by a navy blue hijab. "You gave everyone a scare. You collapsed at work."

Work. Oh God. My mind scrambled through the haze. One second I had been restocking files behind the reception desk at the design firm, the next the room had tilted like a Ferris wheel ride. Then... black.

The nurse adjusted the IV line taped to my arm. "You've been having fainting spells, yes?"

I frowned. "I... I've been dizzy. But I thought it was just exhaustion."

"Well, exhaustion doesn't usually drop you to the floor without warning," she said lightly, though her gaze was assessing. "The doctor will want to run some tests."

I opened my mouth to respond, only to hear a voice that made my stomach drop.

"Well, well," Amelia drawled, her silhouette filling the doorway like a shadow you couldn't shake. "If it isn't my delicate little sister, living up to her flair for drama."

The nurse glanced between us, clearly picking up on the shift in temperature. "Family?"

"Yes," Amelia said before I could answer, pasting on a sugary smile. "I'm her older sister. I rushed over as soon as I heard."

I wanted to laugh. The performance was flawless. Concern in her voice, pity in her eyes, anyone who didn't know her would think she had left a charity gala to come cradle me back to health.

I forced my voice to stay even. "You didn't have to come."

"Oh, but I did." She stepped inside, heels clicking against the linoleum, designer handbag swinging on her arm. "Someone has to make sure you're not spending your nights... unwisely."

My jaw clenched. The nurse busied herself with checking the monitors, but her ears were clearly working.

"Amelia," I warned.

"What?" She perched delicately on the visitor's chair, crossing her legs with all the grace of someone sitting for a Vogue shoot. "I'm just saying, if you keep having... wild nights, you're bound to end up in places like this. Or worse."

I could feel my pulse picking up, not from illness, but from the slow boil of anger rising under my skin.

"That's rich," I shot back, my voice sharp enough to make the nurse glance up in surprise. "You hand me a drink, disappear without a word, and now you want to play Florence Nightingale?"

Her smirk faltered for half a second. "You're upset. I understand. But I..."

"No," I cut her off, struggling to sit up despite the nurse's attempt to steady me. "You don't get to come in here and pretend to care. You've always treated me like a prop in your little game. I'm not playing anymore. Leave."

Amelia's eyes, the same shade as mine, narrowed just slightly, an unspoken reminder that she didn't like being told what to do.

But then her smile returned, cool and practiced. "Fine. Rest up, darling. We'll talk soon." She stood, leaned over to brush an unnecessary kiss against my cheek, and whispered so low only I could hear, "You'll regret speaking to me like that."

Then she was gone. I exhaled slowly, my hands trembling. The nurse gave me a small, approving nod. "Good for you."

I almost smiled. Almost.

A few minutes later, the door opened again, this time to a tall man in a white coat, glasses perched low on his nose. "Miss Adrianna?" he asked.

"That's me."

He gave the nurse a nod, and she slipped out quietly, leaving us alone.

The doctor stepped closer to my bed, flipping through a chart. "I've reviewed your vitals and some preliminary test results. I would like to discuss them with you privately."

A faint unease curled in my stomach. "Alright... is it serious?"

He hesitated, not a pause to gather words, but the kind of silence that told me whatever was coming would rearrange my entire world.

Finally, he looked up from the chart, meeting my eyes.

"Miss Adrianna," he said carefully, "you're pregnant."

Pregnant.

The word hit me like a slap, sharp, stinging, leaving me stunned beyond reasoning. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I could only stare at the doctor, my mind scrambling for an explanation that didn't exist.

"There must be a mistake," I finally whispered. "That's not... possible."

His expression was gentle, but unyielding. "The tests are accurate, Miss Adrianna. You're about five to six weeks along."

Five to six weeks. The number seemed to echo in my skull. I gripped the thin hospital blanket tighter, trying to remember every detail of the past month, every night, every...

I pressed a hand to my stomach instinctively, not protectively, but in disbelief, as if I could somehow feel the truth or disprove it just by touching.

The doctor hesitated. "I know this is a lot to process. We'll need to run more tests to make sure both you and the baby are healthy. Is there someone you would like me to call?"

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to speak. "No. I..."

The door swung open with a force that startled even the doctor.

A tall figure filled the doorway, the kind of presence that commanded attention before a single word was spoken. His black suit stretched across broad shoulders, his steps deliberate, as though he owned the ground beneath him.

And then his eyes, dark and intense, found me.

The air shifted instantly, heavy and charged. The steady beeping of the heart monitor seemed too loud in the silence that followed.

It's him.

Xavier.

He closed the distance between us in three long strides, the room suddenly feeling much smaller. The doctor stepped back instinctively, looking from me to him as if uncertain whether to intervene.

Xavier's gaze flicked briefly to my hand, still pressed against my stomach, then returned to my face.

"Why are you here?" I managed, my voice shaky but defiant.

He didn't answer my question. Instead, his lips curved, not in a smile, but in something colder. "Five to six weeks?"

The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sir, I'm not sure..."

Xavier didn't even look at him. His attention was locked on me, his voice dropping low enough to make my skin prickle.

"That child..." He paused, as if making sure I heard every word. "It's mine."

The room went silent. The doctor stared at him, wide-eyed. I stared too with a blank mind, my heart pounding, because I had no idea what terrified me more.

The fact that I might be pregnant.

Or the fact that Xavier sounded absolutely certain it belonged to him.