The Billionaires Greatest Regret

POV: Vivienne Hart

"Ma'am, you need to lie back down your vitals are spiking, we need to prep you for the ultrasound right away," a nurse in green scrubs said, her hands gently but firmly pressing against Vivienne's shoulders, though Vivienne barely felt the pressure because her entire focus was locked on the cracked screen of her phone.

"I just need one minute, please, because my husband isn't answering, and he needs to know I'm here," Vivienne muttered, her voice trembling as she wiped a streak of drying blood from her forehead, her fingers shaking so violently that she almost dropped the device for the third time that night. The harsh lights of the emergency room buzzed overhead, making her headache increase, but she ignored the throbbing in her temples and pressed redial, holding the phone to her ear while listening to the agonizingly long, empty rings that she kept hearing the entire evening.

"The doctor is extremely concerned about internal bleeding, especially since you mentioned the possibility of an early pregnancy, so every second you delay is putting yourself at risk," the nurse urged, checking the monitors that beeped frantically beside the metal gurney, but Vivienne just shook her head, staring blankly at the wall as the call finally connected, though it wasn't the deep, familiar voice she craved to hear.

"Vivienne? I'm incredibly busy right now, so unless this is an absolute emergency, I need to call you back later," Roman’s personal assistant, Marcus, said, his voice hushed and hurried, filled with the background noise of a completely different hospital corridor.

"Marcus, please put Roman on the phone, I’ve been in a terrible car accident, and I’m sitting in the emergency room right now waiting for surgery," Vivienne pleaded, her grip tightening on the plastic casing of her phone until her knuckles turned entirely white, expecting to hear a gasp or an immediate movement on the other end.

There was a long, heavy pause, followed by the sound of Marcus sighing deeply, before he replied, "I'm so sorry to hear that, Vivienne, but Mr. Ashford cannot come to the phone right now because Miss Celeste collapsed earlier this evening, and he had to rush her to Saint Jude’s Specialist Hospital, so he is currently occupied with her medical team."

"He's with Celeste? But I am his wife, Marcus, and I am the one who was just hit by a truck, so please just tell him I need him here with me," Vivienne said, her voice cracking as a tear finally spilled over her bruised cheek, yet Marcus's tone remained professional, detached, and utterly unyielding.

"He is well aware of his responsibilities, Vivienne, but Celeste’s condition is critical, and Mr. Ashford explicitly stated that he is not to be disturbed by anyone until the doctors give them a definitive update, so I suggest you cooperate with your medical staff and I will relay your message as soon as it becomes appropriate," Marcus said, and before Vivienne could even utter another word, the line went completely dead, leaving her staring at the blank screen while the realization of her absolute isolation settled into her chest.

"We really cannot wait any longer, ma'am, we are moving you to the trauma bay now," the nurse stated, signaling to an orderly who immediately unlocked the wheels of the gurney.

As they wheeled her past the central nursing station, Vivienne closed her eyes to block out the spinning ceiling, but the sound of two nurses gossiping nearby caught her attention, stopping her thoughts entirely.

"Can you believe the drama in VIP Suite B? That billionaire CEO, Roman Ashford, has been sitting by that girl Celeste's bed for twelve solid hours without moving once," one nurse whispered.

"I know, right? And the rumor from the OB-GYN floor is that she's actually pregnant with his child, which explains why he looks completely terrified of losing her," the second nurse replied, her voice fading slightly as Vivienne’s gurney moved further down the corridor, every single word hitting Vivienne like a physical blow that hurt far worse than any injury from the car crash.

"Are you feeling pain anywhere specific, Vivienne? Your heart rate just skyrocketed, you need to breathe deeply for me," the doctor asked, stepping up to the side of the bed as they entered the ultrasound room, but Vivienne couldn't even manage to answer him because her mind was trapped in a loop of those nurses' words, wondering how the man she built an empire with could be mourning another woman's potential child while ignoring his own wife's survival.

"Let’s get this gown changed and get her prepped for the abdominal scan immediately," the doctor instructed, turning his back to arrange the medical instruments, leaving Vivienne alone with her thoughts for a brief second.

Her phone buzzed in her palm, a vibration that made her flinch, and she quickly lifted it, expecting a text from Roman saying he was on his way, or at least an apology for Marcus's cold behavior. Instead, the screen displayed an incoming message from an unknown number, containing nothing but a single, media file.

Vivienne clicked it open, and the breath completely left her lungs as the image expanded to show Roman sitting in a lit, luxurious private room, his head resting wearily on the edge of a mattress while his fingers were tightly, desperately intertwined with Celeste's pale hand, his expression filled with a raw devotion he had never once shown her during their entire marriage.

"Alright, Vivienne, we are going to apply the cold gel now, just try to relax your muscles," the doctor said, stepping back toward her with the transducer wand in his hand, but Vivienne didn't feel the cold fluid on her skin, nor did she hear the hum of the machine, because her eyes remained glued to the photo of her husband holding another woman's hand while she prepared to fight for her life completely alone.