Chapter 7

The closer the distance, the more uncontrollable my heartbeat became. 

The social status of The Windsor Family was extraordinary, and what I was doing now was threatening people.

The fact that I hadn't specified which Windsor had fathered the child I was carrying was a gamble so reckless it bordered on being suicidal.

Outside the hospital room, the argument escalated. Aiden was clearly losing his patience, his voice a low growl of fury as he insisted on forcing his way in. 

The man before me, his presence filling the sterile space, effortlessly peeled my hand from his mouth. He twisted my arm, securing my wrist in a grip that was less a restraint and more an iron shackle, pulling me completely under his control.

"Don't... that hurts," I gasped, pain flaring up my arm.

His hold didn't loosen. If anything, it tightened, yanking me closer until our bodies were nearly flush. His voice was a low, glacial whisper directly in my ear. "Are you leveraging the fact that you saved my life?"

When his deep-set eyes met mine, they were utterly devoid of emotion, like a bottomless, still lake. A primal chill snaked down my spine, cold and sharp.

"Get out of my way! Do you have any idea who this is? The CEO of the Smith Group! You think you can stop him?"

That furious shout, I recognized it instantly. It was Aiden's assistant. The nurses and orderlies who had been forming a human barricade suddenly sounded hesitant, their protests weakening as if the weight of that title alone was enough to crush their resolve.

"Looking for you?" The man murmured, his gaze sharp. He noticed my attention drift, and his free hand shot up, cupping my chin. He forced my head back, compelling me to meet his unnerving stare. 

The proximity was dizzying; his handsome features were so close they held an almost violent visual impact, making my thoughts scatter even in the midst of this crisis.

"You have to help me," I said, my gaze dropping to my own flat stomach for a flicker of a second before I found my resolve. "I'm carrying a Windsor baby. That's why I recognized the family crest on your clothes back at the black market. It's why I said we were fated to meet, and why I chose to save you."

I forced the words out, trying to keep my voice steady, but the white-knuckled grip I had on the bedsheets betrayed the terror clawing at my insides. My heart was a wild thing, threatening to burst from my chest. 

The Windsor family was an empire, and whispers of its brutal internal power struggles were legendary. 

The first time I'd seen this man, he had been a broken, hunted mess. He might have been just some insignificant pawn in the family's grand game. 

Was it a mistake to pin my hopes on him? Or would he see my unborn child as a threat to his own interests and eliminate the problem before it could even begin? 

The moment the words left my mouth, my thoughts tangled into an indecipherable knot, and the sheer, suffocating tension threatened to swallow me whole.

"Move!" The footsteps outside were getting closer, faster.

"Search every single room! I don't care who you offend. If anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility!"

Aiden's command was cold and absolute. He sounded like a man prepared to tear the entire hospital apart, brick by brick, to find me.

The man in front of me remained silent after my confession, his body an unmoving statue, his hand still holding me in his unyielding grip.

"Please, I'm not lying," I begged, my voice cracking. "You don't want anything to happen to a Windsor heir, do you?"

He stared down at me, his dark eyes swirling with an emotion I couldn't decipher. Finally, he spoke. "You say the child is a Windsor's. Whose?" 

His gaze shifted, pointedly, to my flat abdomen, his skepticism a palpable force in the air between us.

I instinctively tried to shield my stomach, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood. I couldn't answer. His demeanor was too unpredictable, too dangerous. I didn't dare speak Alexander's name.

"Speak," he commanded, his fingers tightening on my chin. The sharp pain made me wince.

The commotion outside was growing louder, more frantic. This man was my only way out. 

Just as that thought solidified, he released me. From somewhere, he produced a syringe. I recognized it instantly—a sedative. What was he doing? Was he going to hurt me?

"What are you doing?" I shoved him, my push weakened by fear, careful not to make too much noise. "I told you, I'm carrying a Windsor baby! Are you going to..."

The horrifying rumors about the Windsors flooded my mind, a torrent of dark possibilities. The sedative, his coldness... was this an attack? My survival instincts screamed at me to run, but Aiden's voice was just outside the door. It was too late.

In that split second of my distraction, his hand shot out again, grabbing my arm. This time, the needle pierced my skin.

His voice, somehow even colder than before, cut through my rising panic. "Tell me whose child it is."

The frigid liquid flooded my veins. It might have been psychological, but a wave of dizziness washed over me, the drug seeming to take hold instantly. As my consciousness began to blur and fray at the edges, I forced out one last, desperate sentence. "It's... it's Alexander's... Don't touch me..."

Then, everything went black. The last thing I saw before the darkness consumed me was the look of unguarded, absolute shock that finally broke through his mask of indifference.

Outside the hospital room door, Aiden pointed at his men. "Why haven't you checked this room?"

The exhausted medical staff, on the verge of giving up, blocked his path again. "You really can't go in here! The patient in this room is someone you absolutely cannot afford to offend!"

Aiden was sweating, his frustration boiling over. Bianca was waiting, and Elizabeth had been right there, only to vanish into thin air. 

"So what? I'm looking for a missing person! If something happens to her, can this hospital take responsibility?"

The nurse gritted her teeth, holding her ground. "Even so, you cannot disturb this patient!"

"Enough of this crap!" Aiden shoved the nurse aside.

The door flew open. Aiden stormed in, his eyes immediately scanning the room and landing on the man lying on the bed. "Sir, my girlfriend is missing. I need to search your room."

One of the nurses, now restrained by two of Aiden's bodyguards, shouted desperately, "Mr. Windsor, I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop him! This Mr. Smith insisted on forcing his way in!"

At the name Mr. Windsor, Aiden froze. His head snapped toward the man on the bed, his expression filled with disbelief. "Mr. Windsor? You're from the Windsor family?" 

If this were a Windsor, then he had just crossed a line he couldn't uncross.

Just then, a stern, authoritative voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Who are you people? How dare you burst into Mr. Windsor's room?!"

A man in a perfectly tailored suit appeared on the threshold. Aiden turned, and the fragile composure he had left was shattered completely. He recognized this man. This was Charles Harper, the chief aide to the true power of the Windsor family, Alexander himself. In his past attempts to forge a connection with the Windsors, a man of Aiden's stature could never get a meeting with Alexander; the best he could ever manage was a brief audience with this very assistant.

Charles's presence could only mean one thing. The room he had just invaded belonged to Alexander Windsor.

Aiden felt his legs turn to water, a cold dread seizing him so completely he could barely stand. His men, oblivious to the catastrophic error their boss had just made, were still posturing. "We don't care who you are! We have to find someone!"

"Shut up!" Aiden roared at his subordinate. The man flinched, looking wounded and confused as he lowered his head.

Aiden turned back to Charles, his voice trembling. "A misunderstanding. This is all a complete misunderstanding. Mr. Windsor, I'm sorry I was rash. I hope you won't take offense. We'll leave immediately."

He waved dismissively at his men and started backing out of the room, his heart a leaden weight in his chest. For a moment, he even forgot about finding Elizabeth.

Once they were clear of the room, his assistant sidled up to him and whispered, "Mr. Smith, why did we just leave? Who was that guy? We've checked everywhere else. Elizabeth was probably hiding in that room."

Aiden's temper flared. He smacked the back of his assistant's head. "Are you an idiot? How much nerve do you think Elizabeth has to hide in Mr. Windsor's room?"

The assistant rubbed his head, utterly bewildered. "I don't get it, Mr. Smith. Who was he, really?"

Aiden lowered his voice to a harsh, strained whisper, articulating each word with chilling clarity. "The head of the Windsor family. Alexander."