Chapter 5
The morning air felt unnaturally still.
Mila's stomach churned as she walked through the quiet halls of the Blackwood Medical Center's private wing. Every step echoed, reminding her that there was no going back now.
Adrian followed at a measured pace, silent as always. He didn't speak, didn't glance at her, but she could feel his presence—like gravity pulling at her chest.
In the procedure room, everything was pristine. Machines hummed softly. Sterile instruments gleamed under the bright lights. Mila's palms were damp with nervous sweat. She pressed them against her thighs, trying to steady herself.
"You'll lie here," the doctor said kindly. "We'll begin shortly."
Mila obeyed, reclining on the examination table. The cool touch of the sheets against her skin made her shiver.
Adrian leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the room with practiced attention. He didn't speak. He didn't touch. He simply… watched.
It should have felt intimidating. It should have made her recoil.
Instead, she felt a strange sense of… grounding.
The doctor spoke again. "This will be brief. Try to relax."
Mila closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
When the procedure began, her body tensed automatically. A small part of her panicked—what if something goes wrong?
Adrian's voice cut through her thoughts, soft and measured. "Focus on your breathing. Nothing will happen to you."
Her eyes snapped open.
He hadn't moved. He hadn't reached out. Yet somehow, his presence alone calmed her. His voice was like a lifeline she didn't know she needed.
The doctor worked efficiently, and within moments, the procedure was complete. Mila exhaled shakily, clutching the sheet.
"It's done," the doctor said. "Rest here for a few minutes. We'll monitor you before you return home."
Adrian stepped closer, his gaze lingering on her face. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
For the first time, Mila noticed a subtle change in him—an almost imperceptible tension in his shoulders, a faint tightness around his jaw.
He was invested.
And somehow, that realization made her pulse quicken.
---
Back at the residence, Mila reclined on the sofa, wrapped in a soft blanket. Clara brought tea, but she barely touched it. Her mind replayed the procedure, replayed Adrian's watchful presence, and a quiet, unsettling thought crept into her mind.
He's not as cold as he wants me to believe.
Adrian entered quietly, as though he sensed her thoughts. He placed a folder on the coffee table. "Medical instructions. Follow them exactly."
"Of course," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
He paused, hand lingering slightly on the folder. His gaze met hers. For a moment, silence stretched between them.
"Rest," he finally said, turning sharply and leaving the room.
Mila exhaled, heart racing. She pressed a hand to her stomach, imagining the life that had just begun inside her.
The contract bound them legally, clinically. But something else—something unspoken—was already weaving its way into the corners of both their lives.
And neither of them could deny it.