Chapter 2 - The Double Beat
My heart plummeted into my throat. "What is it? Is the baby okay? Is there something wrong?"
The technician adjusted the contrast on the screen, leaning closer to the monitor. She pressed the transducer slightly deeper into my lower abdomen.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.
And then, a fraction of a second later, a second, distinct rhythm echoed through the room speakers.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.
"There isn't anything wrong, Claire," the technician said, turning her face toward me with a wide, stunned smile. "There are two of them. You're carrying twins."
I stared at the screen in utter shock.
There, clearly outlined in the greyscale image, were two distinct sacs. Two tiny shapes resting side by side. Two fast, vibrant heartbeats playing a frantic, beautiful symphony in the quiet room.
"Twins..." I stammered, my hand flying to my mouth as warm tears flooded my vision. "I'm having twins?"
"Identical, sharing a placenta, but in separate amniotic sacs," the technician explained, printing out a series of black-and-white image strips. "They look remarkably strong. Healthy weight, strong heart rates at 154 and 158 beats per minute."
Outside the door, the heavy oak panel rattled violently.
The door swung open, and Adrian stepped into the room.
His overcoat was unbuttoned, his tie slightly loosened, his dark hair disheveled as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times. The cold, calculating CEO was gone; in his place was a man looking completely undone.
"Mr. Moretti, you can't be in here—" the technician began, standing up.
"Leave us," Adrian commanded softly, his gray eyes fixed entirely on the wall monitor displaying the two glowing shapes. "Please. Give us five minutes."
There was something so raw, so utterly shattered in his voice that the technician paused, looked at me for permission, and nodded quietly before stepping out into the hall, closing the door behind her.
Adrian walked slowly toward the side of the exam table. He looked down at my bare stomach, at the clear gel, and then up at the screen.
"Two," he whispered, his voice cracking on the word. "There are two."
"Adrian, get out," I said, reaching for a towel to wipe the gel off my skin. "You have no right to be in this room."
Before I could wipe the screen clean, Adrian dropped to his knees beside my exam bed.
His massive hands, usually so steady and cold when signing billion-dollar corporate acquisitions, were visibly shaking. He reached out, his warm, rough fingers lingering an inch above my stomach, terrified to touch me, terrified to pull away.
"Claire..." he choked out, looking up at me with eyes filled with a terrifying, desperate sorrow. "Why didn't you tell me? My God, Claire... you were going to raise my children without me ever knowing?"
"You didn't want me, Adrian!" I cried out, my voice cracking under the weight of two months of buried grief. "You sat across from me at our dining table and told me our marriage was a mistake! You signed the divorce papers without looking back once! Why would I tell a man who abandoned me that I was carrying his children?"
"Because they are mine!" he roared softly, a tear escaping his left eye and running down his dark cheekbone. "Because I am their father!"
"You became a stranger the day you mentioned Vanessa!" I snapped back, pulling the paper sheet up to cover myself, forcing him to stand up. "You spent three years looking through me, dreaming about her! I won't let my babies grow up in a house where their mother is a placeholder!"
Adrian stood up, taking a sharp step back, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched near his ear.
"Is that what you think?" he whispered, his voice dropping into a deadly, quiet register. "You think I left you for Vanessa?"
"You're in this hospital for her today!" I spat, pointing toward the door. "Marco was holding her medical records! Dr. Vance just came out of her room!"
"Vanessa has stage-three uterine cancer, Claire!" Adrian yelled back, his voice echoing off the tiled walls. "She reached out to my legal foundation three weeks ago because she couldn't afford the surgical team at Mount Sinai! I paid her medical bill as an act of charity for a woman I knew ten years ago! I haven't touched her, I haven't loved her, and I haven't thought about her since the day I married you!"
The room fell into an absolute, suffocating silence.
I stared at him, my mouth slightly open, my breath catching in my throat.
"I paid her bill," Adrian repeated quietly, stepping closer to the bed, looking down at me with an intensity that made my heart hammer against my ribs. "That is why I am here today. Not for love. Not for a past that died a decade ago."
He leaned down, placing both palms on the edge of the examination table, trapping me between his broad shoulders.
"And as for our divorce..." Adrian whispered, his storm-gray eyes locking onto mine with terrifying honesty. "I signed those papers because I thought I was destroying you. I saw you looking at me with fear every time I came home late from the docks. I thought you hated the life I lived. I thought I was letting you go so you could be free."
I stared into his eyes, searching for a lie, searching for the cold corporate executive I had known for three years.
I found none.
"Adrian..." I stammered, my hands trembling against the paper sheet.
Before I could speak another word, the examination room door burst open.
Marco stood in the entrance, his face deathly pale, holding his ringing phone in his hand.
"Boss," Marco said, his voice laced with urgent, deadly gravity. "We have a massive problem. Someone just leaked the confidential medical records from the fourth floor to the press."
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Adrian didn't break eye contact with me. "I don't care about the press, Marco. Tell them to clear out."
"It's not about Vanessa, Don Moretti," Marco said, stepping into the room and dropping his voice to a whisper. "The leak wasn't about the cancer treatment. The press just reported that your ex-wife is carrying the Moretti empire's heirs—and your uncle Antonio's men are already on their way to this building."
