Chapter 687

Alexander also prayed nothing would happen to Evelyn.

Having witnessed the accident firsthand, Alexander couldn't shake his concern for her.

He completely understood Ethan's rage.

Ethan let out a bitter laugh. "Punish her? But what about Evelyn's suffering? Will punishing Vanessa erase what Evelyn's enduring?"

No one could predict how this incident might impact Evelyn's unborn child.

Punishment wasn't Ethan's true desire.

All he wanted was for Evelyn and their baby to be safe. He would have gladly borne the pain himself.

Her prenatal checkups had been flawless—she should have carried to term.

Yet this senseless tragedy forced her into premature labor.

It shattered Alexander to see her endure such unnecessary agony.

What tormented him most was his absence when she needed him most.

The guilt would haunt him forever.

The crushing helplessness suffocated him, but time couldn't be undone.

He should have been her shield. It should have been him.

Alexander couldn't comprehend it. Evelyn had been perfectly fine when he left that morning.

How had she ended up in surgery after just a few hours?

No apology could make up for his failure.

He wasn't sure if Evelyn would ever forgive him—or how this would fracture their marriage.

Alexander stared at the operating room doors, eyes bloodshot.

His fists clenched, murderous intent blazing in his gaze.

"Pray Evelyn and the baby survive. Otherwise, I'll slaughter Vanessa myself—no matter who shields her." Alexander's hand brushed his holster.

Simon froze when he spotted the gun.

Since Alexander's military days, Simon had never seen this side of him.

Someone had crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed.

Simon silently hoped Vanessa wasn't involved—because if she was, no one could save her.

Three agonizing hours passed. Midnight loomed.

Alexander hadn't moved since the surgery began.

Suddenly, the doors swung open.

A nurse emerged.

Alexander lunged forward, eyes wild.

"Are you the father? I need your signature for the NICU transfer."

Alexander's hands trembled. Fear flickered in his eyes.

"Transfer?" His voice cracked.

Signing papers during surgery never meant good news.

Back in his police academy days, signing papers meant someone wasn't coming home.

Dread coiled in his gut.

The nurse clarified hastily, "The baby's here—but he's premature. Under five pounds. He needs NICU care."

Relief flooded Alexander.

"And Evelyn? How is she?"

"Stable. The accident gave her a scare, but her injuries are minor. The baby's condition is more critical."

Due to placental abruption and oxygen deprivation, the newborn had inhaled amniotic fluid. Intensive care was mandatory.

Evelyn's safety lifted a boulder from Alexander's chest.

Simon asked, "Boy or girl?"

"A boy. But with underdeveloped lungs, he'll likely need a ventilator. No visits yet."

Alexander nodded stiffly.

"Congratulations, sir! A son!" Simon beamed.

But Alexander couldn't celebrate.

Not until Evelyn was safe.

She still hadn't emerged from surgery.

After signing, Alexander resumed his vigil.

An hour later, Evelyn was wheeled out—unconscious, drained from the ordeal.

Alexander seized her hand.

"Evelyn!"

No response. Her lashes lay still against pale cheeks.

Alexander memorized every detail of her face, terrified to blink.

Only with her back at his side did his pulse steady.

"Evelyn, forgive me..."

Her bloodless complexion screamed of trauma.

Guilt strangled him.

He cradled her icy fingers between his palms, willing warmth into them.

Alexander couldn't look away—as if she'd vanish the moment he did.

She was his Achilles' heel.

He remained statue-still by her bedside, gaze locked on her.

Deep into the night, Simon crept in.

"Sir, you need rest. The doctor confirmed Evelyn's stable. The couch—"

Alexander shook his head.

"I'm staying."

Simon hesitated but retreated.

Alexander rasped, "Dominic's status?"

Simon stiffened. "Still in surgery—six hours now."

Evelyn had been out for three.

"It's late. Go home," Alexander dismissed.

Simon exited quietly.

Alone, Alexander studied Evelyn's peaceful slumber.

Dawn approached when his phone buzzed.

He slipped into the hallway.

Alvin's ID flashed—his former academy mate, now lead investigator.

"We located Isabella, but... the situation's grim."

Alexander's gut twisted.

"Define 'grim.'"

"We've pinpointed the hideout. But intel suggests your sister..."

The unspoken horror hung between them.