Arthur’s POV
I gripped Ava’s wrist and pulled her through the hospital’s back exit, ignoring the flashing cameras and the shouted questions from the reporters.
Her resistance was weak, probably from shock, but that didn't stop me from moving quickly.
"Arthur, please—" she started, her voice cracking.
"Not a word," I snapped, dragging her toward the waiting car. My jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.
I had been furious before, but now? Now I was barely keeping myself from losing control. Ava actually tried to kill our child, without telling me, what on earth was she thinking?
The drive back to the estate was silent, I kept glancing back at her, my fists clenched tightly, barely holding the urge to punch her right in the face. This was the third time she has done something so stupid and I wasn't going to take it again.
Ava sat beside me, her hands trembling in her lap. Every few minutes, she would open her mouth as if to speak but then stop herself.
The moment we arrived, I stepped out f
