CHAPTER THREE

{Adrian's POV}

Guilt gnawed at me the entire way to the hospital.

I was with Vivian when it happened.

We were in her office, preparing a presentation for the next day.

My phone was on silent—deliberately, shamefully on silent—because I didn't want anything to interrupt the few hours of peace I'd stolen from her manipulation.

When I finally checked it, my heart sank.

There were 23 missed calls from the house. Our housekeeper, Martha, had sent dozens of frantic texts.

Mrs. Cole is in labor.

We're taking her to the hospital.

She wants to see you.

Please, sir. She's bleeding heavily.

The doctors say it's critical.

The last message was sent three hours ago.

Three hours during which I was unreachable, while my wife was nearly dying from blood loss during childbirth.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I drove, Lily sitting silently in the passenger seat. She offered to stay behind, saying it might be better if she wasn't there, but I needed her.

I needed her presence to remind me why I was doing this, why I had every reason to want out of this nightmare of a marriage.

But the guilt still weighed heavily on my heart.

No matter what Ava had done to me—no matter what traps she and her brother had set—she was still the mother of my child. She almost died today.

And I wasn't there.

The hospital loomed ahead, cold and imposing. I pulled into the parking lot, my mind racing with what I should say to her.

Maybe I was being too harsh. Maybe the truth was far more complicated than I imagined. Maybe—

I pushed open Ava's door and froze.

There was a commotion inside—angry, high-pitched voices.

Daniel's voice was sharp and calculating.

"You have to get pregnant again. As soon as possible. This time, give him a son."

Every muscle in my body tensed.

I should have burst through the door, confronted them then and there. But somehow, I remained rooted to the spot, listening. “If it were a son, you could secure your position in that family forever,” Daniel continued. “But what if it’s a daughter? To a man like Adrian Cole, a daughter is nothing.”

I clenched my teeth so hard they ached.

“We drugged you to get you pregnant before. Obviously, it worked. We can do it again.”

Just like that, the guilt vanished.

It burned away like morning mist under the scorching sun, replaced by a cold, crystalline fury.

Of course.

Of course, they were already planning their next move.

Ava wasn’t even out of the hospital bed yet, still recovering from her near-death experience, and they were already plotting how to further entrap me.

How to manipulate me.

How to drug me again, to get me pregnant again.

The anger that surged through me was scorching and all-consuming. It burned away every trace of tenderness and weakness I had felt on the way here.

I shoved the door open, and it slammed against the wall with a bang.

Daniel whirled around, his eyes widening instantly, but then he quickly adopted an innocent expression.

Ava lay in the hospital bed, pale and exhausted, clutching a small bundle to her chest. Her eyes were red and swollen, brimming with tears.

But I felt no more pity.

Only cold contempt.

Daniel quickly recovered, his face contorted with righteous indignation as he looked at me.

“How could you do this?” His voice was sharp and accusatory. “How could you not be there for your wife on the day she gave birth? Do you know what happened? Ava almost died from postpartum hemorrhage! She almost bled to death, and where were you?”

He gestured towards Vivian, who stood elegantly and calmly by the doorway beside me. “Now—now you’re several hours late, and you’ve brought another woman? Your mistress? Do you have any respect left for Ava, your wife? Even a single shred of respect?”

The sheer audacity of him—standing there lecturing me about respect after I’d just overheard those words—made my blood boil.

“If I recall correctly,” I said, walking into the room, my voice cold and controlled, “it was you and your sister who conspired to frame me a year ago.”

Daniel’s expression flickered—only for a split second—but he quickly recovered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Stop.” I interrupted him, my voice dangerously low. “I heard everything.”

Daniel’s face instantly turned pale.

“So don’t stand here lecturing me about respect,” I continued, walking closer to him, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “Get out, and don’t pretend to be the victim in front of me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Get out of my sight. Now.” My voice was terrifyingly low. “Otherwise, I will immediately terminate the cooperation between Cole Enterprises and the Carter Group. All contracts, all deals, every single penny I’ve invested in your father’s company—all of it will be voided. We both know what that means for you.”

A threatening atmosphere hung between us.

The Carter Group was facing a serious financial shortage at the time. Without my investment—without the reputation of the Cole family to back them—they would go bankrupt within months.

Daniel knew it. I knew it.

He knew that I knew it.

“You can’t—”

“I can, and I will.” I pulled out my phone, my thumb hovering over my lawyer’s contact. “Do you want to test me?”

Daniel stared at me for a long moment, his jaw trembling slightly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. I could see the calculation in his eyes; he was weighing his options.

I wasn’t bluffing. “Fine,” he finally spat, “but this isn’t over, Cole. Not by a long shot.”

He gave Ava one last look—a look that seemed to convey some kind of warning—then he turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard the doorframe rattled.

The ensuing silence was suffocating.

Lily cleared her throat softly beside me.

“Adrian, darling, perhaps I should wait outside—”

“Okay,” I said without looking up, “please give us a moment.”

I felt her hesitation, and the slight stiffness in her posture. Vivian Stone wasn’t used to being dismissed.

But she was smart enough to know when to attack and when to retreat.

“Of course.” Her tone was deliberately neutral.

She lightly touched my arm—a gesture of support—then her high heels clicked on the floor.

The door closed softly behind her.

Then it was just Ava and me.

For the first time since entering the room, I turned to look at her properly.

Her face was pale—excessively pale—a stark contrast to the white hospital sheets. She had heavy dark circles under her eyes, and her hair hung limply down the sides of her face.

She looked exhausted.

Fragile.

She held her daughter tightly against her chest, both protectively and possessively. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks, and she gazed at me with wide, sorrowful eyes.

She looked heartbroken.

Helpless.

Like a victim.

But I understood now.

“Stop the act,” I said, deliberately using a cold tone. “You and your brother went to great lengths to manipulate me. You’re nothing but a cunning little brat, so stop pretending to be pitiful, stop pretending to be a victim.”

Her eyes widened in shock, and more tears spilled out. She carefully shifted the baby to one arm and reached with trembling fingers for her phone on the bedside table.

She typed frantically, then held the screen up to me. I didn't agree to anything he said. I told him no. I signed a document guaranteeing I wouldn't do it. Please, you have to believe me.

I impatiently waved away her phone without even looking at the screen.

"Ava, I'm not interested in your excuses."

She desperately tapped the keyboard again, her fingers flying across the screen, tears blurring her vision.

A year ago, I didn't know that drink was drugged. Daniel told me it would just make things more relaxed, make business easier. I swear, I really didn't know what it was—

"Enough," I interrupted sharply.

"Do you really think I believe you—his sister, his accomplice—knew nothing about what happened? Do you really think you innocently handed me a drugged drink, completely unaware of the consequences?"

Her hands gestured frantically, but I deliberately looked away.

"No matter what you say now, the facts are there," I said coldly, my tone businesslike. "You married me. I got everything I wanted. I invested millions of dollars in the Carter Group, saving your father's company. I've done enough."

I pulled an envelope from my inner jacket pocket—I'd been carrying it around for weeks.

Divorce papers.

"I'm fed up with you and your brother's manipulation," I said, pulling out the papers and throwing them onto her lap.

Ava's face instantly turned pale.

She looked down at the papers, then back up at me, her eyes wide with shock and genuine grief.

But I wouldn't be fooled.

Here we go again.

She started signing frantically.

No, Adrian, please don't do this to me.

I shook my head.

"Sign the papers," I said calmly, "I want a divorce."