Chapter 172

Chapter 172
Hannah's POV

Exhaustion sank into every cell of my body as I lay on the hospital bed, my breath still coming in shallow pants. The delivery had been grueling—hours of labor that tested the limits of my endurance. But we'd done it.

My son—our son—had come into the world with a powerful cry that still echoed in my heart.

For security reasons, they'd immediately moved the baby to another room, away from me. Dr. Brown had assured me it was just a precaution, that I would see him again once they confirmed everything was secure. The decoy room had worked perfectly, drawing the attackers away while I delivered safely in this hidden wing of the hospital.

I reached for the glass of water on the bedside table, my hand trembling slightly from fatigue. The quiet beeping of monitors was the only sound in the otherwise silent room. No security personnel, no doctors—they'd all stepped out momentarily, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my aching body.

The door clicked open, and I turned, expecting to see a nurse bringing my baby back to me. Instead, Richard Sterling stepped into the room, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that seemed out of place in the sterile hospital environment. His eyes immediately flicked to my now-flat stomach, and something cold slithered down my spine.

"Looks like I'm too late," he said, his voice unnervingly calm. "When my people told me you weren't at Sterling Estate, I knew you must have come to the hospital."

My hand instinctively reached for the fruit knife I'd used to peel an apple earlier, gripping it beneath the sheets.

"Sterling Estate is quite the bloodbath right now," Richard continued, moving closer to my bed. "Many people died tonight. I imagine Finn is among them."

Finn dead? The thought sliced through me like ice, making my chest constrict until I could barely breathe. For a moment, the room seemed to tilt around me, grief threatening to pull me under completely.

The knife felt small and inadequate in my palm, but I clutched it tighter, fighting the wave of dread his words brought.

"You're the only one I told them not to kill," he said, as if conferring a great favor. "The others... well, I can't control everything my associates do."

"What have you done?" My voice was hoarse from hours of labor and screaming.

Richard's eyes narrowed as he noticed the slight movement under my sheet. With a swift motion, he grabbed my wrist and easily pried the knife from my grasp.

"Really, Hannah? A fruit knife?" He tossed it across the room, the metal clattering against the floor. "I thought you were smarter than that."

I didn't struggle or scream. What was the point? In my weakened state, I was no match for him. My body had just performed the miracle of bringing life into the world, and now it felt hollow, drained of all strength.

But more than that, a part of me had died with Richard's words about Finn. If he was truly gone—my fierce, damaged, complicated Finn—then what did anything else matter? "The worst that can happen is death," I said, meeting his gaze with the quiet resignation of someone who had already lost what mattered most. "And I'm not afraid of that."

Richard's expression shifted, something dark and possessive flashing in his eyes. He suddenly pushed me back against the pillows, his body looming over mine. My golden hair, still damp with sweat from labor, splayed across the hospital bed. I felt vulnerable, exposed, but refused to show fear.

"Finally dropping the pious act?" I asked coldly. "At least now I can see the real you."

His face hovered inches from mine. "Hannah, do you have any idea how much I love you?" His breath was hot against my skin. "Do you know what it was like for me, all those years watching you from afar? When I was sent to the European division, I thought of you every day. Every single day."

I turned my face away, but he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"You were supposed to be mine," he whispered fiercely. "You promised you'd consider my courtship, remember? Before your family's tragedy."

"That was a lifetime ago," I said. "Before I knew what kind of man you really are."

Richard's fingers stroked my cheek, sending revulsion through me. "I've done everything for you, Hannah. Everything."

"Including trying to kill Eliza?" I challenged. "And nearly killing Amy? And having Finn's people slaughtered in a bloodbath?"

His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly composed himself. "None of that matters. I just wanted to be the man you needed me to be."

"And what man is that, Richard? A murderer?"

He shook his head, frustration evident in the tightening of his jaw. "Finn is nothing but a thug. Did you know he was a fighter in underground rings? That he killed men with his bare hands? That's the father of your child, Hannah. A beast."

"And you're so much better?" I scoffed. "With your perfect education and pristine bloodline?"

"Yes!" Richard insisted, his voice rising. "I am better. I've never known hunger or fear. I could give you everything—security, stability, respect. All the things Finn can never provide."

I looked at him, really looked at him, seeing the desperation behind his controlled facade. "Get out," I said quietly. "I want you to disappear from my life right now."

His face contorted with rage. "Why do you dismiss me so easily? What does he have that I don't?"

"My heart," I answered simply.

Richard's control finally snapped. He grabbed my collar, yanking me toward him, his intention to force a kiss clear in his movements.

The door to my hospital room burst open with such force that it slammed against the wall. A tall, imposing figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the hallway light.

Blood soaked through his black trench coat, dripping onto the pristine hospital floor. His face was partially obscured by shadows, but I would know that stance anywhere—the coiled tension, the raw power barely contained.

Tears immediately sprang to my eyes, relief washing over me in a dizzying wave.

He was alive. Finn was alive.

Richard froze above me, his grip on my collar loosening as he slowly turned to face the doorway. The look of shock on his face would have been comical in any other situation.

Finn stepped into the room, his eyes fixed on Richard with such deadly intent that I felt the temperature in the room drop.