"Lorenzo, please. I think something is wrong with our baby." Vanessa Crowe gripped the edge of the bathroom sink as another sharp pain tore through her abdomen. Her phone trembled in her hand, and she had to press it against her ear to hear over the pounding of her heart. "Lorenzo, are you there?" "I'm in a meeting, Vanessa." His voice was clipped, impatient. "What is it now?" She squeezed her eyes shut. What is it now? For five years, she had learned to swallow her hurt whenever her husband spoke to her like an inconvenience. She had told herself he was under pressure, that running Blackthorn Pack and managing Castellano Holdings left him little time for tenderness. But this was different. There was blood on her fingers. "I'm bleeding," she whispered. "And the pain won't stop. Please, I need you to come home. I think we need to go to the hospital." For a moment, she heard nothing but muffled voices on his end of the call. Then a woman's laughter drifted through the background. Vanessa recognized it immediately. Arabella Voss. Her stomach tightened for reasons that had nothing to do with the pain. "Lorenzo, please," she repeated. "I'm scared." "Then call the pack physician." "I already did. She said I need to get to the hospital immediately." "Then go." Vanessa stared at her reflection. Her face had gone pale, and damp strands of hair clung to her temples. One hand rested protectively over the small curve of her belly. "Come with me," she begged. "You're my husband." A quiet sigh came through the phone. "And I'm the Alpha of Blackthorn. I cannot abandon an important meeting every time you panic." Every time. As though she were a child demanding attention rather than his pregnant wife bleeding alone on their bathroom floor. "It's your child too," she whispered. "I know whose child it is, Vanessa." "Then why-" "I'll come later. Stop making this more difficult than it needs to be." The call ended. Vanessa remained still, the phone pressed against her ear long after the silence began. Then another cramp seized her. A strangled cry escaped her throat. Her knees buckled, and she caught herself against the sink before sliding to the floor. "No. No, please." She looked down at the blood spreading across the pale fabric of her dress. Their baby. The little life she had protected through months of nausea, sleepless nights, and secret visits to the healer. The baby she had imagined holding against her chest while Lorenzo stood beside her, smiling in a way she had not seen in years. She had kept a list of names in the drawer beside her bed. She had even bought a pair of tiny silver socks, though she had never shown them to anyone. A sob broke from her throat. With shaking fingers, she dialed the pack physician again. "Dr. Selene?" Vanessa gasped when the call connected. "It's happening again. There's more blood." "Vanessa, listen to me carefully. Don't wait for your husband. Call an ambulance now." "I can't drive." "You don't need to. I'll have someone meet you at the hospital. Can you reach the front door?" Vanessa tried to stand. Pain flashed through her so violently that her vision blurred. "I don't know." "Stay on the line with me. I'm coming." The call remained connected as Vanessa dragged herself toward the bathroom door, leaving a faint red smear on the white tiles. Every few seconds, she whispered her baby's name. She hadn't chosen one yet. Still, she needed something to call the little life inside her. "My love," she breathed. "Please, my love. Hold on." Twenty minutes later, Vanessa lay strapped to a hospital stretcher, shivering beneath a thin blanket. The journey was a blur of flashing lights, shouted instructions, and Selene's steady voice urging her to breathe. Now, beneath the harsh white lights of the emergency room, the healer moved quickly between Vanessa and the medical equipment. "Her blood pressure is dropping," one of the nurses said. Selene pressed a hand to Vanessa's wrist. "Vanessa, stay with me." Vanessa struggled to focus on her face. "My baby?" "We're doing everything we can." It wasn't an answer. Vanessa reached for Selene's hand. "Please save my baby." Selene's expression tightened for the briefest moment before she turned to issue another instruction. The door swung open, and a nurse hurried in with a phone. "Dr. Ward, I reached the Alpha's office. His assistant says he's unavailable." Vanessa heard her. Even through the pain, she heard every word. "Call him again," Selene ordered. The nurse hesitated. "They said he specifically asked not to be disturbed." For one terrible second, the room seemed to tilt. Vanessa turned her face toward the ceiling. She refused to cry. Not because she was strong, but because she had no strength left to waste. Her husband was somewhere warm and comfortable, surrounded by people who valued his time. And she was here, fighting for the child they had made together. "Forget him," she whispered. Selene leaned closer. "What did you say?" "Don't call him again." The words barely left her mouth before another wave of pain ripped through her. She screamed. Hands moved around her. Someone called for more supplies. Selene's voice sharpened as she instructed the team, and Vanessa clutched the blanket until her fingers ached. In the middle of the chaos, one thought kept returning. If I lose this baby, something inside me will never be the same. She had sacrificed so much to keep her marriage alive. She had hidden her identity, her wealth, and the extent of her achievements because she wanted Lorenzo to love the woman she was, not the Crowe name she carried. She had defended him when her family questioned his intentions. She had paid his debts without telling him. She had allowed him to believe that his success belonged to him alone. And still, when she needed him most, he had chosen not to come. "Vanessa." Selene's voice broke through her thoughts. "I need you to keep your eyes open." Vanessa forced herself to look at her. "Is my baby alive?" Selene didn't answer immediately. That silence frightened Vanessa more than the pain. "Please," Vanessa whispered. "Don't lie to me." Selene took a slow breath. "We're trying to stabilize you first. I need you to keep breathing." A tear slipped down Vanessa's temple and disappeared into her hair. She knew that answer. She had heard it before, in the voices of people who were preparing her for something they hoped she would survive. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, please. Not my baby." Selene tightened her grip on Vanessa's hand. "Stay with me." But the room was already growing dim around the edges. Vanessa fought to remain conscious. She thought of the tiny silver socks waiting in her bedroom drawer. She thought of the names she had written on a scrap of paper, each one chosen with a tenderness she had been too embarrassed to share. Then she thought of Lorenzo. Not the man he was tonight, but the man she had once believed he could be. "Lorenzo," she breathed. Her eyes closed. Across the city, Lorenzo Castellano sat at the head of a polished conference table, his phone resting beside a glass of untouched wine. Arabella Voss leaned toward him, her perfume mingling with the scent of expensive leather. "You've checked that phone six times," she observed. "Is something wrong?" "Vanessa called." Arabella's lips curved faintly. "Again?" "She claims it's an emergency." "And you believed her?" Lorenzo frowned. "She's pregnant. I can't exactly ignore her every time she complains." "Yet you did." He shot her a warning look. Arabella only smiled and slid a document toward him. "Sign this, Lorenzo. Once the transfer is approved, the new partnership will be official. You can deal with your wife afterward." He glanced at the document. His signature would finalize the transfer of the invention that had recently attracted the attention of several major investors. It was the invention Vanessa had spent years developing in secret. He had told himself that putting it under Castellano Holdings was merely a business decision. He had not asked her permission. His phone vibrated. A message appeared on the screen. DR. SELENE WARD: Alpha Lorenzo, this is an emergency. Vanessa is in critical condition. You need to come to the hospital immediately. His expression changed. For the first time that evening, he looked genuinely unsettled. Arabella noticed. "What is it?" He turned the screen toward her. She read the message, then reached for his hand. "Lorenzo, she's being treated by the best healers in the city. Your presence won't change that." "She said she was bleeding." "Then let the doctors do their work." He stared at the message for several seconds. His wolf stirred beneath his skin, restless and demanding. An Alpha was expected to protect his family, and the bond between husband and wife should have made Vanessa's distress impossible to dismiss. Yet Lorenzo pushed the phone away. "I'll go when the meeting is over." Arabella leaned closer. "Good. Because there's one more thing you need to sign." She placed another document before him. Outside, rain began to lash against the tall windows. And miles away, in a hospital room where no one could reach him, Vanessa's heart monitor began to scream.

"Alpha Lorenzo, if you don't come now, your wife may never forgive you." Lorenzo Castellano looked up from the document in front of him. His assistant stood beside the conference table, pale and visibly uncomfortable. She had worked for him long enough to know when to speak and when to keep her opinions to herself. Tonight, apparently, she had decided the risk was worth taking. "What did you say?" "Dr. Selene called again. Mrs. Castellano has been taken into emergency treatment. Her condition is serious." Arabella Voss slowly lowered her wineglass. "Your assistant seems to have forgotten her place," she remarked. The young woman stiffened. "I'm only delivering the message, ma'am." "Then deliver it and leave." Lorenzo raised a hand before the exchange could continue. "Go back to your desk. I'll handle this." The assistant hesitated, her eyes flicking toward the phone lying beside his papers. "Sir, Dr. Selene said you should come immediately." "I heard you the first time." She bowed her head and left. The door closed with a soft click. Arabella leaned back in her chair. "You should dismiss her. Employees who interfere in personal matters become troublesome." Lorenzo barely heard her. His attention had returned to his phone. Three missed calls from Vanessa. Two messages from the hospital. One from Dr. Selene. He opened the latest message. Her condition is deteriorating. We need you here. Something uncomfortable tightened beneath his ribs. He had known Vanessa was pregnant for months. He had attended the first appointment, listened to the healer explain the risks, and even promised to be more available. He had meant it at the time. But work had piled up, meetings had become more demanding, and Arabella had been helping him secure a partnership that could transform Castellano Holdings. There was always something more urgent. Until tonight. He pushed his chair back. "I should go." Arabella's expression changed so quickly that he almost missed it. "Now?" "My wife is in the hospital." "And the contract?" She tapped the papers. "We have spent three months negotiating this agreement. The investors are waiting for your signature." "I'm aware of that." "Then act like it." Lorenzo stared at her. Few people spoke to him that way. As Alpha of Blackthorn Pack, he was accustomed to obedience, not challenges. Yet Arabella had a talent for making disagreement feel like weakness. She softened her voice and reached for his hand. "Listen to me. Vanessa has a habit of making everything about her. You told me yourself that she called you over every little discomfort during the early months of her pregnancy." "This isn't a little discomfort." "Then let the healer handle it. That's what she's there for." He glanced at his phone again. A memory surfaced unexpectedly: Vanessa standing in their kitchen three weeks earlier, holding a tiny shopping bag behind her back. She had smiled when he entered. "I bought something for the baby." He had barely looked up from his laptop. "That's nice, sweetheart." She had waited for him to ask what it was. He never did. Now he wondered what had been inside that bag. The thought irritated him. Guilt was an inconvenient emotion, particularly when there was nothing he could do with it. "Give me ten minutes," he said. Arabella released his hand. "Of course." But when he reached for the contract, she moved the papers closer to him. "Sign first." At the hospital, Vanessa woke to the sound of someone calling her name. "Vanessa? Can you hear me?" She opened her eyes. The lights above her were painfully bright, and her mouth felt dry. A thin tube ran beneath her nose. Her body seemed distant, heavy, as though she were trapped beneath water. Dr. Selene stood beside the bed, examining a monitor. Vanessa tried to sit up. "My baby?" Selene immediately placed a hand on her shoulder. "Please, don't move yet." "Where is my baby?" The healer's fingers tightened around the edge of the chart. Vanessa noticed. "No." Her voice cracked. "Don't look at me like that." "Vanessa, you've lost a lot of blood. We need to keep you stable." "I'm asking about my baby." Selene pulled a chair closer to the bed. For several seconds, neither woman spoke. Then Selene took Vanessa's hand. "I'm sorry." The words were quiet. They were also final. Vanessa stared at her. "No." "I'm so sorry." "No, you can't say that." Vanessa shook her head, but the movement made the room spin. "You said you were trying. You said-" "We did everything we could." Vanessa pulled her hand away. A small, broken sound escaped her throat. She pressed both hands over her stomach, as if she could protect the child through sheer refusal to accept what had happened. "Please bring my baby back." Selene's eyes filled with tears. Vanessa began to sob. She cried until her chest hurt, until her throat burned, until the nurse standing near the door quietly turned away. She had imagined motherhood in small, ordinary moments. A sleepy baby against her shoulder. Tiny fingers wrapped around hers. Lorenzo complaining about sleepless nights while secretly taking the child from her arms so she could rest. She had imagined all of it. Now there was only silence. After some time, Vanessa wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Did you reach Lorenzo?" Selene hesitated. "I contacted his office." "Did you speak to him?" "Yes." "And?" "He was informed of your condition." Vanessa waited. The room seemed to grow colder. "He didn't come," she whispered. Selene said nothing. Vanessa turned her face toward the window. Rain streaked the glass, blurring the lights outside into pale smudges. Five years of marriage. Five years of defending him, standing beside him, and convincing herself that his distance was temporary. She had told herself that once they had a child, something would change. That perhaps Lorenzo would finally look at her and see more than a convenient wife. Her fingers curled around the blanket. She had been wrong. At eleven forty-seven, Lorenzo finally signed the last page. Arabella gathered the documents with a satisfied smile. "Congratulations, Alpha. Castellano Holdings has officially secured the agreement." He barely responded. His phone was vibrating again. This time, the caller ID displayed Dr. Selene Ward. He answered immediately. "Selene. How is Vanessa?" There was a pause. "She is stable." Lorenzo exhaled. "Good. Why didn't you tell me that earlier? Your messages made it sound as though she was dying." "She was in critical condition." "But she's stable now." "Yes." He stood, reaching for his jacket. "Fine. I'll come by in the morning." "Alpha Lorenzo." Something in Selene's tone stopped him. "What?" "Your wife lost the baby." The words struck him with unexpected force. For a moment, he could hear nothing else. Arabella's smile faded. "What did you say?" he asked. "Vanessa's pregnancy could not be saved. She is grieving, and she needs support." Lorenzo gripped the phone. He remembered Vanessa's voice earlier that evening. It's your child too. He had dismissed her because he believed there would be time later. Now there would be no later for the child they had been waiting to meet. "Why didn't you call me sooner?" The question left his mouth before he could consider its cruelty. Selene went silent. Then she answered, her voice colder than before. "I called you repeatedly. I sent messages. I asked your office to reach you. You were informed, Alpha." Lorenzo's jaw tightened. "I had an important meeting." "And Vanessa had an emergency." "I understand that." "Do you?" Selene asked. "Because your wife spent the most frightening hours of her life asking for you." He had no answer. After the call ended, he remained standing beside the table, the signed contract forgotten beneath his hand. Arabella approached cautiously. "Lorenzo?" He looked at her. For the first time that night, she seemed unsure of what to say. "You should go home," she suggested. "Get some rest. You'll be able to speak to Vanessa tomorrow when she's calmer." He slipped his phone into his pocket. "I'm going to the hospital." Arabella's face hardened. "After everything we've accomplished tonight?" "My child is dead, Arabella." The words silenced her. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. But before he could reach it, his phone rang again. It was his security chief. "Alpha, you need to return to the office." "Not now." "It's about Mrs. Castellano." Lorenzo stopped. "What about her?" The security chief lowered his voice. "Someone has accessed the restricted financial archives. Several accounts connected to Castellano Holdings have been frozen, and the system is flagging a name we've never seen before." Lorenzo's fingers tightened around the phone. "What name?" There was a brief pause. Then the man answered. "Vanessa Crowe." Lorenzo went completely still. Crowe? His wife had always introduced herself as Vanessa Castellano after their marriage. He knew she came from a modest family and had distant relatives in the north, but she had never mentioned anyone with the influence to freeze his company's accounts. "Check again," he ordered. "My wife has nothing to do with those accounts." "Sir, there's something else." "What?" "The accounts have been funding Castellano Holdings for years. The records indicate that the original investments came from a private trust registered under the Crowe family." Lorenzo stared at the phone. Across the room, Arabella had stopped gathering her things. She had heard the name. And for the first time that evening, she looked frightened.

"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.