Chapter 453

Richard drove Vanessa to the emergency room.

The moment they disappeared through the hospital doors, Margaret pulled Evelyn aside for inspection. "Sweetheart, are you injured anywhere?"

Evelyn rotated her wrists experimentally. "Nothing hurts."

"Thank heavens. Honestly, that girl's been practically living at the maternity ward trying to preserve that pregnancy. Nature has its ways - some things just aren't meant to be," Margaret remarked with brutal honesty.

Still, worry creased her forehead. "We should get you examined regardless. And shouldn't you inform Alexander about this?"

Evelyn's gaze drifted to the damaged vehicle parked nearby. The front bumper bore ugly scrapes where paint had been stripped away.

It was Alexander's prized sports car. He'd definitely want to know about the collision.

Alexander was chairing a quarterly earnings meeting when his phone lit up.

Normally, all notifications were muted during boardroom sessions - except for calls from Evelyn. The special ringtone pierced through the corporate discussion.

"Car accident?" His voice turned razor-sharp with alarm the second he answered. "Where are you hurt?"

The entire conference table fell silent as executives watched their CEO's face darken. Without hesitation, Alexander stood, signaling the meeting's abrupt end with a slash of his hand.

"Send me your location immediately," he commanded, already striding toward the exit. His assistant Simon scrambled to follow, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Back at the accident scene, Evelyn blinked at her suddenly silent phone. "He hung up before I could explain..."

Margaret arched an eyebrow. "That man moves faster than lightning when it concerns you."

Tires screeched before Evelyn could respond. A black luxury sedan skidded to a stop mere inches from the damaged vehicles, its tinted windows hiding the furious occupant within.

The driver's door flew open.

Alexander emerged like a storm given human form.

The dull ache in Evelyn's lower abdomen was barely noticeable. Aside from the occasional morning sickness that came with early pregnancy, she hardly felt like an expectant mother at all.

"That's a nasty scratch on your car. This must be worth a fortune, isn't it?"

She had chosen the sleekest, most luxurious vehicle from Alexander's garage that morning.

He responded with casual indifference. "Just a few million. No big deal."

Evelyn blinked, momentarily speechless.

"As long as you're unharmed, that's all that matters. I'm on my way now. Oh, and call the police—let them sort out liability," Alexander instructed.

She nodded and ended the call, only to find Margaret watching her with an amused smirk.

"What?" Evelyn asked, confused. Shouldn't Margaret be panicking after an accident? Why did she look so smug?

"I'm just pleased to see how much Alexander adores you," Margaret said, her smile widening. "The way he drops everything to rush to your side—that's how you know a man truly loves you."

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "Alexander is a thousand times better than Ethan ever was. You're far luckier than Vanessa. Maybe this accident was fate's way of showing you that."

The police and Alexander arrived simultaneously.

After examining the crash site and vehicle damage, officers concluded both drivers bore equal fault.

"I believed you claimed to be unharmed?"

Alexander's brow furrowed as his piercing gaze locked onto Evelyn's face.

During her abrupt braking, an object from the dashboard had struck her cheek, leaving a faint crimson trail.

She gnawed her lower lip, fingertips brushing the stinging wound.

Blood.

The injury sat just beyond her line of sight—she'd been oblivious until now.

"Merely a surface scratch. Trivial," Evelyn dismissed with forced lightness.

"Trivial?"

Alexander insisted on immediate medical attention, his tone brooking no argument.

Nearby, Margaret pressed a hand to her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.

Perfect timing, she sneered internally. Hurry along now—before nature stitches her up without your interference.

The late afternoon sun cast elongated shadows across the asphalt as Alexander guided Evelyn toward his car, his protective grip on her elbow tighter than necessary. Margaret lingered, watching their retreating figures with venomous satisfaction.

At the hospital's stark white reception, fluorescent lights highlighted Evelyn's pallor as a nurse dabbed antiseptic on her cheek. Alexander hovered like a storm cloud, his jaw clenched.

"All this fuss for nothing," Evelyn muttered, wincing at the sting.

The nurse smiled knowingly. "Better safe than sorry with facial wounds, dear."

Alexander's phone buzzed—a terse message from Simon about postponed meetings. He silenced it without glancing down.

Margaret's parting jab echoed in Evelyn's mind: Drama queen. She exhaled sharply. This minor scrape had somehow become another battlefield in their endless war.

As the nurse applied the final bandage, Evelyn caught Alexander studying her with an unreadable intensity. Something darker than concern flickered in those gunmetal-gray eyes.

Her stomach dropped.

This wasn't about the cut.

Something far worse was coming.

The car ride to the hospital was tense. When Alexander discovered Vanessa had intentionally swerved in front of Evelyn’s vehicle, his expression darkened like a gathering storm.

"What was she thinking?" His voice was razor-sharp.

Evelyn exhaled softly. "She was upset after our argument. It was just reckless impulse."

Meanwhile, Vincent and Eleanor rushed to the hospital upon hearing about Vanessa’s accident.

But by the time they arrived—delayed by the distance from Whitmore Manor—Vanessa had already finished her examination.

"How is she? Is the baby unharmed?" Eleanor demanded, her voice trembling.

Vanessa’s chest tightened.

Of course. The baby. That’s all anyone ever cared about. Not her pain. Not her fear. Just the precious heir inside her.

Richard, standing nearby, delivered the crushing verdict. "The doctor said the fetal heartbeat is unstable. It could stop at any moment."

Vanessa knew then—her fate was sealed.