Chapter 4
When I arrived at the hospital, the emergency room entrance was swarming with people.
Lucas stood at the very front, his back to me, his lab coat splattered with blood.
A faint, uncontrollable tremor ran through his shoulders.
A decade of knowing him had never prepared me for this.
He was the epitome of composure, a man of unyielding strength.
But now, he looked like a lost, helpless child.
"Lucas..." Vivian stood next to him, whispering, trying to comfort him, "Don't worry, she will be fine..."
He remained silent, his entire world narrowed to the sealed door.
The click of my heels on the linoleum cut through the quiet.
Everyone turned to look at me.
When Lucas finally faced me, his eyes were rimmed with red, holding a storm of emotions that sharpened into shock upon seeing me.
"Nora..." His voice was rough. "You're here."
I nodded. "How's your mother?"
Lucas said, his voice shaky but still trying to sound professional, "The bleeding is massive, and it's pressing on her brainstem. We need to operate right away to clear out the hematoma, but the surgery is risky—she might never wake up. The only real hope is a bone marrow transplant to help fix the nerve damage..."
He stopped, his gaze complicated, searching my face.
"You're the only perfect match in the whole hospital. Nora, could you..."
"Donate again?" I finished for him.
Lucas nodded, a hint of hope flickering in his eyes. "I know you just donated, and you haven't fully recovered yet. But this time, it's urgent. My mom, she..."
"Lucas." My voice stopped him cold.
He waited, the fragile hope beginning to waver.
"My bone marrow's tapped out. I can't give anymore," I said.
He froze. "What?"
"When I donated for Vivian, it drained me completely. My bone marrow is shot—there's nothing left. If I try again, it'll kill me," I said, keeping my voice steady.
Silence, heavy and absolute, descended upon the hallway.
Everyone was stunned.
Vivian shattered it with a choked sob. "How can you be so cruel, Nora? That's his mother! You saved my life... why won't you save hers?"
"There's nothing left to save her with." My focus shifted to her, cold and direct. "You're intimately aware of that, Vivian. Weren't the medications you insisted on specifically chosen to maximize the marrow yield? To exhaust the donor?"
All color drained from her face. "You're... you're imagining things!"
Lucas' hand clamped around my forearm, his grip vice-like. "Nora, for God's sake, not now! My mother is in there fighting for her life!"
"And what about my life?" I didn't flinch, meeting his feverish glare. "Does it hold no value in this equation?"
"That's not what I'm saying! There must be another option, we can—" he hissed, the control in his voice fraying.
"What option?" A bitter smile touched my lips. "The option where I sign my own death warrant to buy your mother a chance? And afterwards, Lucas? If I die on that table, what then? A moment of regret? Or just a quiet relief that the nuisance in your life is finally gone?"
His bloodshot eyes widened in pained fury. "Nora! How could you say something like that?"
"Then what am I supposed to say?" I pulled my arm free. "Should I say I'm willing? That I'd throw away my life for you? Lucas, let me tell you—"
I stepped forward, locking eyes with him.
"A decade ago, my answer would have been yes. Five years ago, it would have been yes."
"Three months ago, even then, it would have been yes. But today, the answer is no."
I placed my hand over my stomach, where a new life was growing—a life he didn't know about, and would never care about.
"I'm pregnant," I said.
The shock that hit him was physical. He stiffened.
Beside him, Vivian's breath caught.
"Twelve weeks. Perfectly healthy." Each word was a deliberate, final brick in a wall between us. "I am having this baby. I am going to be a mother. So no, Lucas. My life, and the life I'm responsible for, are not yours to sacrifice."
He looked at me as if seeing a ghost, a stranger wearing a familiar face.
His lips quivered, trying to say something, but no sound came out.
The swift swish of the ICU door opening broke the stalemate.
The surgeon stepped out, his mask lowered, expression somber. "Dr. Reed, I'm afraid your mother's condition is declining rapidly. If we cannot proceed with a transplant within twenty-four hours, she will..."
Lucas swayed, his palm slapping against the wall for support.
He turned to me, his eyes bloodshot—and in them, I saw desperation.
"Nora, I'm begging you..." he whispered, the plea ragged with tears.
I had never seen him like this.
For ten years, Lucas had never asked me for a single thing.
Now, he was begging me to save his mother. And I was powerless.
"I'm sorry," I said.
After that, I turned and walked away without hesitation.
Behind me, Lucas' anguished shout echoed, mixed with Vivian's crying.
I kept walking, never once looking back.
Snow started falling even more heavily, blanketing everything in white.
At the hospital entrance, the cold wind stung my face, sharp as a blade.
My phone started vibrating again.
This time, the caller ID showed a number I didn't recognize.
As soon as I picked up, a deep, commanding male voice came from the other end. "Is this Ms. Nora Sinclair?"
"Yes, this is Nora. May I ask who you are?" I replied.
"My name is Charles Grant," he said.
The name struck me like a thunderclap.
Charles Grant. The head of the Grant family in Riverdale, the boss of Grant Holdings.
A name reserved for financial headlines and circles far beyond my own.
"Mr. Grant, why are you calling me?" I said, my voice tight.
"We need to discuss the child you're carrying. And the night three months ago at the Grandview Hotel," he stated, his tone calm yet laden with undeniable weight.
My grip on the phone tightened, knuckles bleaching white. "That night..."
"The man you were with that night was me. Not Lucas Reed," Charles said.
Snowflakes melted on my cheeks, tracing cold paths like tears.
"The baby is mine. Nora, I'm coming to take you and our child home," Charles said.
The line went dead.
Standing alone in the swirling snow, I watched the frantic comings and goings at the hospital entrance. A light still burned on the floor housing the ICU.
Up there, Lucas was fighting for his mother's life.
Vivian was perfecting her performance.
And I stood at a brutal crossroads.
Behind me: a decade-long love that had drained my very marrow, leaving only betrayal.
Before me: a shocking truth and the offer of sanctuary from a man of unimaginable power.
Then, another vibration. A text message from Charles.
[In ten minutes, a black Maybach with license plate RA-0001 will be waiting. Get in, or stay out in the snow. Your call.]
Ten minutes later, right on time, a long black car glided to the curb.
The tinted window descended, revealing a face all sharp angles and imposing presence.
His gaze held mine, deep and unreadable as a winter sea. "Nora, it's time to go."
One last look at the hospital building. Then, I pulled the door open and slid into the leather seat.
The warmth of the car wrapped around me instantly.
Charles handed me a blanket. "Here, cover up. You look terrible."
I took the blanket and wrapped it around myself, only then realizing I was shaking.
The car slowly pulled away from the hospital and drove off into the snowy night.
In the rearview mirror, the hospital lights grew smaller and smaller until they finally disappeared.
"Aren't you going to ask me anything?" Charles said.
"Ask you what?" I stared out the window. "Why you showed up that night? Why you waited so long to find me? Or what you want to do about the baby?"
He was silent for a moment before saying, "I was drugged that night. Ending up in your room was an accident.
"The next morning, I had to leave the country for an emergency. By the time I came back to find you, you were already gone.
"I've been investigating you for three months. It was only today that I confirmed you're pregnant—and the baby is mine."
He turned to me, his gaze unwavering and sincere.
He glanced at me, his expression utterly serious. "I will take responsibility, Nora."
A hollow laugh escaped me. "Responsibility? What form does that take? A check? Or a marriage proposal?"
"If you are willing, I will marry you."
I was caught off guard. "We've only met once, Mr. Grant."
"Once is enough. My child will never be abandoned. And any woman who can carry my child isn't just anybody," he said, eyes back on the road.
The car cruised steadily through the snowy night.
I leaned back in my seat, exhaustion crashing over me like a tidal wave.
"What if I say no?" I asked quietly.
"You may refuse." His voice remained steady. "I will provide a generous settlement and disappear from your life. But Nora—"
He hesitated, then continued, "Given your current medical condition, without access to specialized care, neither you nor the child will survive.
"Come with me. I'll make sure you both pull through—safe and sound."
I closed my eyes in contemplation.
I knew he was right. The bone marrow depletion, the placental complications, the looming threat from Lucas' desperation—I couldn't face it alone.
"Alright," I whispered.
Charles didn't seem surprised. "Rest. I'll wake you when we arrive."
The weariness was bone-deep.
Ten years of silent love, sacrificed to a procedure that stole my strength, leaving nothing but wreckage.
Now, finally, a moment to breathe.
I opened my eyes and watched the snowy world fly by outside the window.
As for Lucas? This wasn't over between us.
For the marrow he took. For the heart he trampled. For the decade he stole. Every last debt would be paid.