Chapter 3

Even the mighty sky seemed to cry alongside Christine as the rain splashed over her sensitive skin, becoming one with her tears.

She did her best to shield the innocent baby boy, the vulnerable tiny human was weeping, each of his cries breaking her heart. The stabbing pain of being discarded by her own father would have been unbearable if not for the little miracle she held in her arms. She was a mother now, and she needed to protect him.

Her mind raced with questions and concerns. She had never before been in a position to be responsible for another being.

Truth be told, life had failed to prepare her for this situation. As a businessman, her father had taken good care of their finances, so she never had to lift a finger, let alone provide for someone. It was understandable; she was only 19 years old. If not for her pregnancy, she would have been attending her first year of college at this age.

Raw fear coursed through her veins as she fought against it, but exhaustion settled into her frail body, reaching a point where she believed her time had come.

However, fate had other plans for her. A black SUV stopped in front of the hospital, and a man in his forties walked over to Christine and her baby.

A glint of hope shone in her eyes. "Help!" she pleaded before blacking out, her remaining strength slowly fading away.

"Don't worry, nobody will ever harm you!" the man said as he gently took the baby into his arms and helped her into his car.

~~~~~

Her heavy eyes tried to blink away the dizziness that clouded her vision. As she finally managed to open them fully, she found herself in an unfamiliar room.

Uneasiness washed over her as she took in the sight of blinking monitors surrounding her bed, and even more so when she noticed the tube connected to her vein. She wondered if she was in a hospital room, but aside from the medical equipment, there was nothing to suggest it was a medical facility.

The room exuded elegance, from the meticulously chosen furniture to the adorned paintings, plush carpet, and luxurious curtains. Everything whispered of opulence.

Yet, amid this opulence, her heart quickened with a mixture of fear and longing as she realized her baby was nowhere to be seen. Her pulse quickened, causing one of the machines to emit a loud beeping sound. Without delay, a nurse rushed into the room.

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Tears welled up in Christine's eyes, anguish tightening her chest. "Where am I? My baby, where is my baby?" Her voice trembled with desperation, the fear that something terrible had happened to her child overwhelmed her.

"Let me check your vitals," the nurse responded calmly.

Without hesitation, she grabbed a flashlight and examined Christine's eyes, then placed a thermometer in her mouth.

"Leave me alone! Where is my baby?" Christine yelled, tossing the thermometer aside and attempting to remove her IV while tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Please, stay still, miss! You'll hurt yourself!" the medical assistant pleaded, trying to restrain her.

But she couldn't stay still. How could she when her baby was nowhere to be found?

"Where is my baby?" she cried out again, her voice filled with despair, her tone breaking.

"The baby is here." His voice rang out, strong and commanding. The man exuded power and authority, causing the hair on her body to stand on end. "Please, leave us alone!" he commanded, and the nurse silently withdrew.

Christine stared in awe at the man who had just entered the room, cradling a baby in his arms. She recognized him, but her mind couldn't quite recall when or where she had seen him. At least she realized he was likely the owner of the house and her benefactor.

The man, in his forties, exuded dominance. His black hair showed traces of wisdom, his deep eyes and well-defined jaw added to his commanding presence. He wore a classic black suit that gave him an aristocratic air.

He approached her bedside, leaning over to gently settle the sleepy baby in her waiting arms.

A surge of warmth spread across her face, blossoming into a soft smile as she caressed the tiny hands of her child. Her heart thumped with a mixture of anticipation and overwhelming love, witnessing the fragile yet serene figure nestled in slumber.

"My name is Loukas Blaine," the man introduced himself, his almond-shaped brown eyes brimming with kindness. In that moment, her thoughts involuntarily drifted to her dear father, whose eyes held a similar tenderness whenever they met hers.

A flicker of recognition crossed her features as she spoke, the puzzle pieces slowly aligning in her mind.

"I know you. You're the one I encountered outside the hospital earlier today."

His jaw clenched, his entire demeanor tensing as he internally debated the right course of action. Should he reveal the truth to her?

She sensed his hesitation, her nerves taut with apprehension. Breath caught in her throat, she waited anxiously for his response. Something within her told her that he held a secret, a weighty truth veiled behind his composed facade.

"What are you not telling me?" she pressed, her voice betraying her nervousness. Her breath hitched as she braced herself for his revelation.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I was debating whether to tell you or not. But the truth will surface eventually. That encounter you mentioned... it didn't happen today. It occurred two weeks ago."

She struggled to process his words, a wave of resistance washing over her thoughts. It couldn't be true. Unease knotted in her stomach, compelling her to scan the room for any tangible evidence that could either confirm or dismiss his claim. Yet, there was nothing concrete - no calendar, no clues to support or refute his statement.

In an almost trivial act, her gaze drifted to her nails, once neatly trimmed. Now, she noticed their subtle growth, a small change that mirrored his revelation in silence.

"You have your mobile phone by the bed. You can check the date and time there," he pointed out, and she grabbed it as if her life depended on it.

The date and time confirmed his words.

"How is this possible?" she asked, pure shock coursing through her veins.

"After giving birth, you experienced heavy bleeding and developed pneumonia from standing in the heavy rain. The team of doctors who attended to you were concerned that you might not make it. But you defied their expectations and survived. You've been mostly unconscious all this time, but you're a strong woman, Christine! And this little guy here patiently waited for you to wake up and take care of him," he explained, gently caressing the baby's little feet.

It all started to make sense.

But wait, how did he know her name?

"How do you know my name?"

"I know everything about you, Christine Carter. I am an old family friend," he confessed, emphasizing her last name, or so she believed.

‘Maybe he knows I'm not my father's real daughter!’ she thought to herself.

"My family..." she trailed off in a low tone, her voice filled with anxiety. "My father, he must be worried. Please tell me that you've informed him that the baby and I are fine."

"I sent a messenger to your house that same night, but your stepmother intercepted it. I don't believe my message ever reached your father. Then the unthinkable tragedy happened."

The atmosphere suddenly turned gloomy, the air grew heavy, and a dreadful silence enveloped the room. Her mind raced with a million dark scenarios, and she tried to shake those thoughts from her head.

"What tragedy?" she finally mustered the courage to ask, her voice filled with fear of the worst.

There was no gentle way to deliver the news, so Loukas just let it out. "I'm so sorry to inform you that your father has passed away."