Chapter 3 Chapt. 3

"Tell me my husband is on his way."

Vanessa Crowe stared at Dr. Selene Ward, her fingers twisting the edge of the hospital blanket.

Selene had just finished checking her pulse. She looked tired, with dark circles beneath her eyes and a strand of hair escaping her bun.

"Vanessa-"

"Please." Vanessa swallowed. "Just tell me he's coming."

Selene lowered the medical chart.

"I called him several times. His office confirmed that he received the messages."

Vanessa's lips parted, but no sound came out.

Received.

Not missed. Not lost. Not delayed by a poor connection.

He had received them.

She turned toward the window, blinking rapidly as the first tears slipped down her cheeks. The room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the monitor beside her bed.

"Maybe he didn't understand how serious it was," she whispered.

Selene pulled the chair closer.

"Vanessa, you don't have to make excuses for him."

"I'm not."

The answer came too quickly.

Vanessa pressed her lips together. She could still remember Lorenzo's voice over the phone, impatient and cold.

Stop making this more difficult than it needs to be.

She had replayed those words so many times that they seemed to have settled beneath her skin.

Her husband had heard her begging for help.

He had known she was bleeding.

And he had chosen to stay away.

A fresh wave of pain moved through her, but this time there was no physical cause for it.

"Can you please leave me alone for a little while?" she asked.

Selene studied her face.

"Of course. I'll be just outside. Press the call button if you need anything."

Vanessa nodded.

When the door closed, she reached beneath the blanket and rested her palm against her stomach.

It was still there. The gentle curve she had stroked every night before sleeping. The place where she had whispered promises to a child who would never hear them.

"I tried," she whispered.

Her voice broke.

"I promise I tried to keep you safe."

She curled onto her side, clutching the blanket to her chest.

For five years, she had believed love meant patience. It meant understanding Lorenzo's long hours, forgiving his sharp words, and accepting the scraps of affection he occasionally offered.

She had believed that if she loved him enough, he would eventually love her the same way.

Now she wondered how much of her life she had wasted waiting for a man who had never truly seen her.

Her gaze drifted to the small handbag resting on the bedside cabinet.

Inside was a folded sheet of paper with the names she had considered for their baby.

She had brought it to the hospital because she wanted Lorenzo to choose one with her.

He would never know.

Vanessa closed her eyes, but the tears kept coming.

At two fifteen in the morning, Lorenzo Castellano finally arrived at the hospital.

He stepped into the corridor with his jacket over one arm and his expression set in the hard, controlled lines that made people move aside when he approached.

Dr. Selene was waiting near the nurses' station.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"Room twelve."

"Is she awake?"

"Yes."

He started toward the room, but Selene blocked his path.

"Before you go in, I need you to understand something."

His brows drew together.

"I'm her husband, Dr. Ward. You don't need to explain my own marriage to me."

"Then behave like one."

His eyes narrowed.

Selene didn't look away.

"Vanessa was terrified. She was losing blood, and she kept asking for you. When we couldn't reach you, she stopped asking."

A muscle moved in Lorenzo's jaw.

"I had a business emergency."

"So did she."

"Are you suggesting I caused this?"

"I'm telling you what happened. You can decide what it means."

Lorenzo stared at her for a moment before stepping around her.

He wasn't accustomed to being challenged by healers, employees, or anyone else. Yet he couldn't deny that the woman's words had found a place he didn't want them to reach.

He opened the door.

Vanessa lay facing the window. Her hair was loose across the pillow, and her face looked smaller than he remembered.

For a moment, he stood still.

He had expected tears, perhaps accusations. Vanessa had never been good at hiding her feelings from him.

But she didn't turn when he entered.

"Vanessa."

She closed her eyes.

He approached the bed.

"I'm here now."

"Congratulations."

The word was barely audible.

Lorenzo frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you finally found the time."

He exhaled sharply and dragged a hand through his hair.

"I've already explained that I had an important meeting."

"Our baby is dead, Lorenzo."

The room fell silent.

She finally turned to face him. Her eyes were swollen, but there was something in them he had never seen before.

Not anger.

Something colder.

"I know," he said.

"Do you?"

His expression hardened.

"What do you expect me to do, Vanessa? I can't change what happened."

"No. You couldn't even be here while it was happening."

"That's unfair."

She stared at him.

For several seconds, he seemed to wait for her to take it back, to soften her voice and make the conversation easier for him.

She didn't.

"You called me repeatedly," he continued. "I told you to go to the hospital. You did, and the doctors treated you. What else was I supposed to do?"

Vanessa's fingers tightened around the blanket.

"Come."

"One meeting doesn't mean I don't care about you."

"You chose the meeting."

"I had responsibilities."

"And I had your child inside me."

His jaw clenched.

"Enough."

The word landed between them like a slap.

Vanessa went quiet.

Lorenzo looked away first, annoyed by the tears gathering in her eyes.

"You need to rest. We can discuss this when you're feeling better."

"There's nothing to discuss."

"Don't be dramatic."

She flinched.

It was a small movement, almost invisible, but he noticed it.

For the first time, he seemed uncertain.

Then his phone rang.

Arabella's name appeared on the screen.

He glanced at it, silenced the call, and slipped the phone into his pocket.

Vanessa watched him.

"Does she know?"

"Know what?"

"That our baby is dead."

He said nothing.

A bitter smile touched her lips.

"Of course she does."

"Vanessa, don't start this."

"Start what? Asking whether the woman you spend your nights with knows that your wife lost her child alone?"

His face darkened.

"Arabella has nothing to do with this."

"Then why did you choose to stay with her instead of coming to me?"

"Because I had work to finish!"

His voice echoed through the room.

Vanessa stared at him, motionless.

Lorenzo seemed to realize how loud he had been. He lowered his voice and straightened his cuffs.

"I'm going home. You can come back to Blackthorn when the doctors discharge you."

She looked at him as if she no longer recognized his face.

"You're leaving?"

"I have responsibilities to the pack."

"And what about your responsibilities to me?"

He didn't answer.

He leaned down and pressed a brief kiss to her forehead, a gesture so familiar that it hurt more than if he had slapped her.

"Get some sleep."

Then he walked out.

Vanessa listened to his footsteps fade down the corridor.

The door clicked shut.

She waited for the sound of it opening again.

Ten seconds passed.

Then thirty.

A full minute.

He never returned.

Vanessa slowly reached for her handbag and pulled out the folded paper. The names blurred as tears fell onto the page.

She pressed it against her chest.

"I won't ask you to love me anymore," she whispered into the empty room.

For the first time since marrying Lorenzo, she didn't wonder what she could do to make him stay.

She wondered why she had spent so long begging him to.

By morning, the news had spread through Blackthorn's inner circle.

The Alpha's wife had lost her pregnancy.

Lorenzo had spent the night away from the hospital.

And Arabella Voss had arrived at Castellano Holdings before sunrise, carrying a folder of documents and wearing the same diamond bracelet Vanessa had once admired in a shop window.

At the hospital, Vanessa sat upright while Selene reviewed her discharge instructions.

"You need rest," the healer said. "And you need people around you who can support you."

Vanessa nodded, folding the papers carefully.

"I understand."

"Do you have someone coming to collect you?"

"My husband said I could return to Blackthorn."

Selene's expression tightened.

"Do you want to?"

Vanessa looked down at the discharge papers.

She thought of the empty bedroom, the nursery they had never finished, and the man who had walked away while she was still grieving.

"No," she said quietly. "I don't think I do."

Her phone vibrated.

A message from an unknown number appeared on the screen.

Mrs. Castellano, you don't know who your husband really is. If you want the truth about the money he used to build his empire, come to the old Crowe estate. Come alone.

Vanessa read it twice.

The Crowe estate.

She hadn't heard that name mentioned in years.

Her fingers went cold.

Beneath the message was a second line.

Your mother has been waiting for you to come home.

Vanessa stopped breathing.

Her mother was supposed to be dead.