LOGIN#Marceline# The hospital corridor smelled of antiseptic and floor polish. Bright overhead lights reflected off the polished linoleum as Marceline stood outside the private room they had given Adrian. She had arrived less than twenty minutes earlier after finally forcing one of the estate drivers to bring her. Blood still stained the front of her dress in dark, stiffened patches. Her hands had been scrubbed raw in a restroom sink, but faint traces remained under her nails. Aunt Vivian blocked the doorway. Victoria stood just behind her, arms folded, expression cool and satisfied. “You shouldn’t be here,” Vivian said. “I made myself clear at the house. You are not welcome in this hospital.” Marceline’s gaze moved past both women to the narrow window in the door. Through it she could see the edge of the bed, the rise and fall of monitors, the still shape of Adrian under white sheets. She did not answer immediately. She simply watched the slow, steady line of the heart monitor for
The gunshot cracked through the air less than a second after their eyes met.Adrian moved on pure instinct. He twisted hard, one arm shoving Marceline behind the shield of his body as the bullet that had been meant for her tore into the upper left side of his chest. The impact spun him halfway around. He staggered, boots scraping across the gravel, and a dark stain began spreading rapidly across his shirt.Marceline’s scream tore out of her throat raw. “Adrian!”She lunged forward and caught him as his knees gave out. They went down together hard. Gravel bit into her palms and the side of her leg. His weight settled heavily against her. Blood was already warm and slick under her hands when she pressed them over the wound, trying to stop the steady flow.“No...stay awake. Look at me. Adrian, open your eyes.” Her voice cracked. Tears streamed down her face unchecked. “You don’t get to do this. Stay with me.”A second figure shifted near the tree line beyond the main gate...dark clothes,
The bedroom door opened without a knock. Adrian’s great-aunt stepped inside, her expression already set in the firm lines she used when she expected to be obeyed. Vivian straightened slightly but did not move away from his side.“Adrian,” the older woman said, “you’re coming with me. We’re going into the city for baby clothes. The nursery still has nothing proper and the child will be here any day now.”Adrian kept his eyes on Marceline. “Not now.”“Yes, now.” His aunt crossed the room and took hold of his arm with surprising strength. “The baby is the priority. Whatever this is can wait. I’ve already had the car brought around and the shop is holding the private room for us.”He pulled his arm free. “Send one of the staff. Or go yourself. I’m busy.”“Staff don’t choose the clothes for a Cross heir,” she replied, voice sharpening. “You do. On your feet. I won’t ask a third time.”Adrian stood only because her grip and the look on her face made it clear she would remain in the doorway
Marceline took the final step to the edge of the bed. Adrian’s eyes tracked every inch of movement. He didn’t reach for her. He simply waited, one arm still folded behind his head, the other resting loosely across his stomach. The open shirt framed the hard planes of his chest. The condom packet sat untouched on the nightstand like a quiet threat. “Closer,” he said. She obeyed. The mattress dipped under her weight as she sat on the edge, spine straight, hands folded over the curve of her belly. The babies shifted once, then settled. Her hip still ached from the fall in the bathroom. Her cheek still carried the heat of his earlier slap. Adrian sat up slowly. He didn’t touch her at first. He only looked...really looked...at the way the soft cardigan stretched across her breasts, at the way her thighs pressed together under the thin sleep shorts, at the faint tremor in her lower lip. “You’re shaking,” he murmured. “I’m not.” “You are.” His voice dropped. “From anger. From
Marceline stood frozen at the foot of the bed, the foil packet still lying where Adrian had discarded it after his little demonstration. Her cheek throbbed in time with her heartbeat. The bruise forming on her hip pulsed with every shallow breath she took. Victoria’s fingers never stopped their slow, proprietary circles over Adrian’s chest, sliding lower now, tracing the hard lines of muscle beneath his open shirt. Adrian’s arm tightened around the other woman’s waist. He turned his face into Victoria’s hair and murmured something low enough that Marceline could not catch the words. Victoria laughed softly, the sound rich and satisfied, and tilted her head so he could press another lingering kiss against the side of her throat. Marceline’s hands curled into fists at her sides. The heat started low in her stomach...hotter than the humiliation, hotter than the ache in her body. It climbed her ribs, flooded her chest, burned behind her eyes until the edges of the room blurred. S
“Now the condom,” Adrian said. “The top drawer is empty...It seems I finished it last week. They’re on the highest shelf of the bathroom cabinet in the black box. Bring the whole packet.”Marceline stood still for a moment longer than she should have. Her eyes were filled with unshaded tears. The idea of walking across the room, opening that cabinet, and bringing the packet back felt heavier than the request itself. Not because she couldn't, but because she was going to do all that for her own husband.“Adrian, I can't, I am your wife for crying out loud...” She stated, her hands formed into fists.His hand moved before she finished the sentence. The slap landed cleanly across her cheek , turning it bright red in colour. The force of the slap turned her face to the side as heat spread under her skin.“I didn’t ask for a conversation,” he said. “Go.”She turned toward the bathroom with a heavy heart..... Each step required effort, and especially with the babies shifting with her mov







