Chapter 8
Alexander's POV
The drug took hold, and the woman in my arms went limp, her consciousness slipping away. My hand instinctively went to her waist, steadying her before she could collapse onto the floor.
The feel of her was unexpectedly soft and warm against my palm.
Just then, the door to the room was thrown open with a violent crash. A man swaggered in, a sneer twisting his lips. "Alright, Elizabeth, hide-and-seek is over."
My gaze dropped to the woman curled against me, a strange, protective impulse softening something deep inside my chest.
Elizabeth. So that was the name of the woman who claimed to be carrying my child.
"Who the hell are you?" A coarse, ill-mannered voice barked. I gave him a glacial glance before dismissing him entirely. A man like that wasn't worth a second look.
My blatant disregard clearly enraged him. He began rolling up his sleeves, ready to charge forward. "Where's Elizabeth? What did you do with her?"
His associate followed suit, spewing a stream of curses as if trying to put on a show of bravado for my benefit.
Watching their boorish, chaotic display, I felt an inexplicable tightening in my chest.
If this woman hadn't found her way to me today, would she have been dragged off and tormented by these animals?
"Back off!" A sharp, urgent voice commanded from the doorway. My assistant, Charles Harper, stepped inside, positioning himself directly in front of me. "Have you lost your minds? Do you have any idea whose suite this is?"
Charles's presence had an immediate effect. The lead thug seemed to recognize him, and the arrogant smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a mask of pure terror.
"You're Mr. Harper? Mr. Windsor's chief of staff?" The man's eyes widened in horror, and his legs gave out, sending him crashing to his knees on the plush carpet.
"Out," I ordered, my voice low and resonant with authority.
Charles wasted no time, signaling for security to drag them away. He returned in less than a minute to report, but my attention had already drifted.
My focus was not drawn to the intruder just now; instead, my gaze fell on the figure I had placed on the other side of the bed.
Her eyes were closed, but even in her drugged sleep, her brow was furrowed in a tight, worried line. There was something about her expression that pulled at a place in me I hadn't known existed. I found myself staring, lost in a momentary trance.
"Mr. Windsor," Charles's voice broke through, laced with surprise at my uncharacteristic behavior. "Shall I have those men... taught a lesson?"
I pulled my focus back to him. "Not yet. I want you to find out everything there is to know about his relationship with this woman."
Upon hearing my words, Charles noticed that there was another woman in the room, and he was so surprised that his mouth fell open.
I understood his reaction perfectly; no woman had ever been allowed this close to me.
"Arrange for her to be taken to Starlight Manor," I instructed, my tone clipped and formal. "And have a doctor give her a full examination. The priority is to confirm whether the child she's carrying is mine."
Charles was so stunned he could barely form a coherent sentence. After a long, choked silence, he finally managed a strained, "Yes."
I had no intention of getting entangled in this kind of mess. But just before she lost consciousness, she had called out my name.
How could I possibly have a child I knew nothing about? Yet, when I had looked into her desperate, tear-filled eyes, I had felt an undeniable tremor of indecision.
As if guided by some unseen force, I bent down and lifted her into my arms. It was effortless.
She was even lighter than she looked, her skin so pale it was almost translucent. I studied her delicate features for a long moment, acknowledging the unfamiliar feeling of protectiveness that was spreading through me.
I followed and got on the car, and went back to Starlight Manor together.
Later, in my study, I massaged my temples as I stared at the nervous doctor standing before me. "Are you telling me," I began, the absurdity of the situation striking me, "that a paternity test is impossible right now because the embryo is too small?"
The very words felt ridiculous on my tongue. Too small? Pregnant?
I had never even touched this woman, so how could a child have materialized out of thin air? And yet, here I was, having brought her back to my own home.
The doctor, sweating under my gaze, stammered, "Y-yes, Mr. Windsor. Even if you brought in another specialist, the result would be the same. There's truly nothing I can do at this stage."
"Then tell me what I can do," I pressed. "When can the test be performed?"
Just ten minutes earlier, I had listened to Charles's initial report, a sordid tale of a love triangle involving her, the thug named Aiden, and another woman.
My first instinct had been to throw her out. But then the image of her curled up on the bed, looking so small and vulnerable, flashed in my mind, and my resolve wavered again.
At the very least, she was genuinely pregnant.
And a crucial detail had surfaced: the fertility clinic she had used was the same one where I had frozen my own sperm years ago. What if…
"When can the test be done?" I repeated, my voice sharper this time.
"Two weeks at the earliest, sir." The doctor hesitated, then braced himself to add, "However, her physical condition is extremely poor. She requires significant nutritional support and rest."
Recalling the feather-light weight of her in my arms, I had to agree.
This Elizabeth had been horribly neglected under that man Aiden's care. I summoned Charles back into the study.
"Hire a nutritionist. I want a meal plan tailored specifically to Elizabeth's needs. And assign two maids to attend to her personally."
I had no experience caring for a woman, but it was a start.
"Also, don't reveal my identity to her, and tell all the servants at Starlight Manor to keep their mouths shut."
Charles wore that same expression of profound shock again, his eyes darting back and forth between me and the empty air, as if trying to confirm he wasn't hallucinating.
"You may go," I said, waving a dismissive hand.
I was aware of it, of course—this unusual current of feeling I had for the woman. But for now, it could all be rationalized by a single, powerful possibility: she might be carrying my child.
Toward evening, I heard she had woken up. I made my way to her room, moving silently down the hallway. As I drew near, I heard a sharp, panicked cry.
"Ms. Spencer! Please, calm down! My name is Lisa. Mr. Windsor assigned me to take care of you."
There was a pause. When Elizabeth spoke again, the frantic edge was gone from her voice. "I'm a little hungry. Is there anything to eat?"
Lisa seemed momentarily taken aback by the request, and frankly, so was I.
Her ability to adapt was stronger than I had anticipated. Lisa quickly agreed and bustled out of the room to fetch some food, freezing when she saw me standing sentinel by the door. I simply raised a finger to my lips, signaling for silence.
Lisa hurried on her way and returned swiftly with a tray.
The woman—Elizabeth—ate with a focused intensity, a small, contented smile playing on her lips. She was so absorbed in her meal that she didn't notice me enter the room, mistaking my presence for the maid's.
"Lisa, I can't eat another bite," she said, her voice lilting with newfound cheer. "Please don't bring me any more delicious things."
I cleared my throat deliberately.
She instantly went rigid, the fork clattering from her hand onto the plate. "You," she breathed. "It's you."
I had noticed it at the hospital, but seeing her properly now, it was undeniable. She had a beautiful face, the kind of striking beauty that captivates you from the very first glance.
A slow smile spread across my face. "What's the matter? Weren't you the one who begged me to save you? Is this how you treat your savior?"
With every step I took toward her, she flinched, her eyes darting up to meet mine for a split second before looking away.
She was like a startled kitten, poised to arch its back and hiss. The sight amused me, and I waited, a flicker of interest in my eyes, for her response.
She swallowed hard, her voice coming out in a stutter. "I saved you once, too. That makes us even, at best!"
"Does it?" My gaze drifted slowly down to her flat stomach, my expression tightening. "From now on, you can only stay in this bedroom."
She froze, the words hitting her like a physical blow. Her eyes followed my line of sight to her own abdomen, and her hands flew down to cover the spot, a reflexive, protective gesture that did not go unnoticed.