Chapter 8

Lennox walked into the press conference hall and immediately spotted Winona sitting in front of the cameras.

She had changed into a champagne-colored suit, her makeup flawless.

Lennox paused mid-stride.

He glanced down at his black suit, still stained with blood.

At first glance, the stains looked almost like a dark red rose deliberately embroidered onto the fabric. It was Whitney's blood.

His heart clenched as if an invisible hand had seized it.

Winona smiled and waved him over, but a chill ran down Lennox's spine.

They had just watched Nola jump from the rooftop. Whitney had lost so much blood that no one knew whether she'd live or die.

Yet Winona had already changed her clothes and touched up her makeup. Now she sat there, beaming as she waited for him to announce that the baby she was carrying was his.

It was as if none of it had affected her at all.

Matthew held out a clean suit jacket. Lennox glanced at it but didn't take it.

He walked straight to the cameras.

The reporters swung their cameras and microphones toward him, their faces alight with the excitement of having landed an exclusive.

Winona sat beside him, giving him an expectant smile.

Lennox's mind suddenly drifted, his thoughts consumed by the image of Whitney on her knees on the rooftop.

She shook her head through her tears, the light in her eyes slowly fading.

"Lennox?"

Winona tugged at his sleeve and lowered her voice.

"Go on, announce it. Tell them I'm carrying your child. Otherwise, once people find out, they'll start gossiping."

But Whitney was carrying his child, too.

Was the baby still alive?

Lennox suddenly felt like a complete fool.

He was neglecting his own flesh and blood while standing here, eager to play father to someone else's child.

What about his own baby?

What about Whitney? What would happen to her?

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

A flicker of panic crossed Winona's eyes. She quickly snatched the microphone.

"Thank you all for being here today. I have something I'd like to announce. I'm pregnant!"

She smiled at the cameras. "And the father of my baby is—"

"No!"

Lennox suddenly shot to his feet, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Winona's smile froze on her face.

Head bowed, he pushed his way through the crowd and hurried out of the hall.

Behind him, Winona called out to him, but her voice was quickly drowned out by the reporters' questions.

"Ms. Sterling, who is the father of your baby?"

"Ms. Sterling, has Mr. Graham denied having a relationship with you?"

Lennox didn't look back.

As he walked, he pulled out his phone and called the hospital.

"How is my wife, Whitney?"

The person on the other end told him that Whitney was out of danger. He stopped in his tracks and let out a long sigh of relief.

He'd been far too rash. There was no need to resort to such extreme measures.

Maybe there was a better way—one that would protect Winona's baby while keeping the child he and Whitney shared.

He knew Whitney had always wanted a child of their own.

After hanging up, he headed for his car to go to the hospital and talk things through with Whitney in person.

As soon as the car started, his phone rang. It was his father, Christopher Graham.

"Get home. Now!"

Christopher's voice was stern and commanding, leaving no room for argument.

Lennox tightened his grip on the phone and fell silent for a moment. "Got it, Dad. I'll be right back."

Meanwhile, a black van pulled up at the hospital's rear entrance.

Two caregivers carried Whitney out on a stretcher and loaded her into the van. Victoria was helped inside as well.

The van slowly pulled away from the hospital, passing Lennox's car at the intersection.