Chapter 693

Alexander's breath caught when he saw Isabella's chapped lips. His hands moved swiftly, retrieving a water bottle from his jacket pocket.

He poured a careful trickle onto his fingers, dabbing the moisture onto her parched lips. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air as he wiped dried blood from her forehead with a damp tissue. Memories of last night flooded back - Isabella's desperate pleas echoing through the warehouse as Daniel Foster's men circled her.

A crimson trail had dried beneath her left eye, giving her face a shattered porcelain appearance. The blood had crusted her lashes together, making every blink a struggle.

"I don't think I'll survive this," Isabella whispered, each word laced with agony.

Her entire body screamed in protest as another tear carved a path through the grime on her cheek.

"Alexander...I'm sorry for being such a weight around your neck all these years."

Alexander's stern expression fractured momentarily, revealing the grief beneath. "Stop talking nonsense. You're tougher than this." Having known Isabella since childhood, seeing her broken form on the concrete floor twisted something inside him.

Isabella's lips parted as if to speak, but exhaustion won the battle.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, seeking refuge in darkness.

Alexander's jaw tightened. He couldn't let her slip away. With a firm shake, he roused her again.

"Isabella, listen. Evelyn delivered last night. She's at Cresthaven General now. I'm a father."

He kept talking, hoping the revelation would anchor her to consciousness.

"But there were complications. Evelyn was in an accident. The baby came early - they're both in critical care." The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

Isabella's eyes snapped open, realization dawning.

"Evelyn was in an accident?"

Her mind raced. "So Alexander left her side...for me?"

Alexander's voice cracked. "Do you think Evelyn will ever forgive me for not being there? When she needed me most?"

He ran a trembling hand through his disheveled hair. "But I couldn't abandon you. Not after everything. When I got the call about your kidnapping, I had to come."

Dark circles framed Alexander's bloodshot eyes, testament to his sleepless vigil. The stubble shadowing his jaw made him look years older.

"I owe Andrew everything. That's why I've watched over you all these years." His grip tightened on her shoulder. "Isabella, you've always been like a sister to me. Can't you stop these reckless stunts?"

Isabella stared at him, the truth of his words settling like stones in her stomach.

"Reckless?" The irony burned. "Yes, if I hadn't been so reckless, I wouldn't have gotten kidnapped and lost a kidney."

The realization hit her like a physical blow. She'd clung to Alexander's attention like a lifeline, terrified of being forgotten in the shadow of his new life with Evelyn.

But now, as he knelt beside her in this filthy warehouse, risking everything, she understood the depth of his loyalty. Even if she stopped her dramatic antics, Alexander would never truly abandon her.

For the first time, shame washed over her. She thought of Evelyn lying in a hospital bed and knew she owed her more than she could ever repay.

As consciousness began to slip again, Alexander's urgent voice pulled her back.

"Isabella!" His palm connected lightly with her cheek. "Stay awake. If Evelyn misunderstands my absence, I'll need you to explain everything to her."

His voice dropped to a raw whisper. "If you die on me today, I swear I'll never forgive you."

XXXXX

At Cresthaven General, Evelyn stirred beneath crisp hospital sheets. The deep, dreamless sleep left her disoriented, her body protesting every slight movement.

A dull ache radiated from her abdomen - the aftermath of emergency surgery. Fragmented memories surfaced: screeching tires, blinding headlights, then the sterile glare of operating lights before darkness claimed her.

Her hand drifted to her flattened stomach. The baby was gone - delivered.

Panic surged as she turned toward the empty bassinet beside her bed. "Where's my baby?" The unspoken fear choked her - had the accident harmed her child?

A gentle voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts. "Mrs. Whitmore, you're awake."

A middle-aged woman with kind eyes approached, introducing herself as Giselle Cortez, the caregiver Alexander had arranged. "You have a beautiful baby boy. He's in the NICU for observation - just standard procedure for preemies."

The clinical explanation should have comforted her, but Evelyn's gaze kept darting to the vacant chair beside her bed.

"Where's Alexander?" Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears.

Giselle hesitated. "Mr. Whitmore was called away on urgent business."

Evelyn's heart constricted. Only one thing would pull Alexander away now - Isabella.

The realization settled like a lead weight. While she'd been fighting for her life and their child's, Alexander had chosen Isabella. Again.

Tears pricked her eyes as she confronted the painful truth: in Alexander's hierarchy of priorities, she would always come second.

"Dominic," she suddenly gasped, memories of the accident flooding back. "Where's Dominic Powell? He was hurt trying to protect me."

Giselle looked blank. "I'm sorry, I don't know anyone by that name."

Evelyn's pulse spiked. Dominic had been bleeding profusely when paramedics arrived. If he'd died saving her...

"Get me a wheelchair. Now." Pain lanced through her abdomen as she attempted to sit up.

"Mrs. Whitmore, you mustn't! You've just had major surgery—"

"I said now!" The command left no room for argument.

Giselle hurried out, returning moments later with a wheelchair. Every movement sent fire through Evelyn's stitches as she was helped into the chair.

The moment they exited the room, Simon Graves nearly collided with them. Alexander's assistant had been pacing the hallway, his usually impeccable suit wrinkled from hours of waiting.

"Mrs. Whitmore!" His eyes widened at the sight of her in the wheelchair. "You shouldn't be up—"

"Where's Dominic Powell? Which room is he in?" Evelyn demanded, her voice steel wrapped in velvet.