Chapter 6

I instinctively wanted to refuse, but Aiden's tone was unusually gentle.

I weighed my options for a few seconds, I said, "Fine. I'll send you my location."

Aiden needed my bone marrow to save the woman he truly loved, and he had promised to keep me healthy enough for the procedure. 

That meant, at least for now, he wouldn't do anything to directly harm me. The smartest thing to do would be to run the first chance I got, to vanish from his life and this twisted arrangement forever. But a bitter, resentful part of me refused to let it end so cleanly. I didn't want to just disappear; I wanted to watch his plans fall apart. I wanted to see him face the consequences.

So, I decided to play along.

When I arrived at the hospital, Aiden was already there waiting. He met me at the entrance, grabbed my wrist, and started pulling me toward the examination wing.

"Slow down," I said, trying to pull free. His fingers only tightened in response, a band of steel. "I can't walk that fast right now."

Aiden glanced down at me, his eyes sharp and impatient. "We can't slow down. I've been waiting for you to get these tests done."

The urgency in his voice sent a fresh wave of alarm through me. Even for a prenatal check-up, this level of haste was strange. It felt frantic, desperate. There was something else going on here, something he wasn't telling me.

He led me to a doctor, his words clipped and authoritative. "Doctor, I need you to examine her thoroughly. Make sure everything is perfect. No mistakes."

He seemed unbelievably anxious, turning and striding away almost before the words had fully left his mouth, leaving me alone with the doctor. 

We stared at each other for an awkward moment, the silence thick with things neither of us said. I saw the opening.

"I'm feeling a little sick to my stomach," I said, fabricating an excuse. "Could I use the restroom first?"

The doctor, seemingly unsuspecting, nodded and pointed down the corridor. "We need some time to prepare anyway. We can begin in ten minutes. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, I'll be back in ten minutes," I promised.

Stepping out of the room, I noticed the hallway was strangely empty, clearly cleared of all other patients and staff. I slowed my pace, my senses on high alert as I scanned my surroundings, trying to figure out where Aiden had gone. The way he had rushed off and left me here felt deeply wrong. Everything about this screamed that something was off.

"Bianca!"

A man's voice, sharp with emotion, suddenly carried from a room just ahead. I froze, my eyes locking onto the door. Staying close to the wall to avoid being seen, I crept forward. The door was slightly ajar, and the conversation inside spilled out with perfect clarity.

It was Bianca's voice, fragile and laced with pain. "Aiden, it hurts so much. Am I going to die?"

Aiden's reply was immediate, "No, you won't. Don't ever say that. I'm going to save you. Being with Elizabeth… I did all of that for this. Don't lose hope. I can save you now, right now."

"But is Ms. Spencer really willing? I don't want to force her." Bianca's voice broke into a sob, dripping with fake concern for me that made my stomach turn. She was a great actress.

"Her consent doesn't matter!" Aiden's voice rose, cracking with a raw, terrifying intensity. "I'm taking her bone marrow today!"

"But Ms. Spencer is so weak right now, she can't possibly—"

"I kept her alive before because I thought she might still be useful. But now, Bianca, how can I let you stay in pain for another second? I'm going to use her life to save yours, right now!"

I stood frozen in the hallway, a roaring sound filling my ears. Aiden's words were like a sledgehammer, slamming into my chest with a force that made my entire body ache. 

So that was it. Because Bianca cried out in pain, he was so desperate that he would bring me here and trade my life for hers without a second thought. Even if Aiden never loved me, hadn't the years I spent by his side earned me even a small amount of consideration? Was my life so disposable to him?

The distinct sound of a door opening behind me snapped me back to the present. I forced myself to remain calm, turning to walk back the way I came. 

I couldn't just stand here and wait for them to take me. I would not die in this place.

This was the VIP wing, and the security was far stricter than in the rest of the hospital. A direct escape attempt would be futile; they would catch me in seconds. My only chance was to pretend to go along with them and wait for the right moment to run.

"Ms. Spencer, it's time for the procedure," the same doctor said, approaching me.

I pretended to be confused, my voice steady. "I thought it was just a check-up. What procedure?"

I caught the flicker of panic in his eyes before he quickly masked it. "No, my apologies, a slip of the tongue. I meant the examination. Please, follow me."

He led me into an ordinary-looking room and gestured for me to lie on the bed. My eyes went straight to a small tray on a nearby stand, where a vial of anesthetic sat next to a syringe. 

The pieces clicked together in my head with horrible speed. He was going to sedate me first, then wheel me into the operating room.

The doctor seemed to sense my hesitation, deliberately turning his back to me as he prepared the injection, likely to prevent me from seeing what he was doing. 

I stared at the back of his neck, my palms slick with cold sweat. They had only assigned one doctor to handle me, probably to make me feel safe. But their calculation was my opportunity. If I hesitated now, if that needle touched my skin, it would all be over.

My gaze swept the room, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon, but found nothing. Finally, my fingers tightened around the hard edges of my phone. With every ounce of strength I could summon, I swung it at the back of his neck.

He let out a muffled grunt, the syringe clattering to the floor. I snatched it up instantly, drove the needle into the soft flesh of his arm, and pushed the plunger.

"You… what are you…" he stammered, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and terror.

I grabbed his tie, yanking him closer until our faces were inches apart. My voice was a low, feral hiss. "Do you have any idea that what you're doing is a crime? Stay quiet if you want to live. Make one sound, and I swear you'll regret it."

A person pushed to the edge has nothing left to fear, especially when her life is on the line. 

The doctor, paralyzed by the sheer ferocity in my eyes, didn't dare make another sound, even as the drug began to course through his veins.

Wasting no time, I bolted from the room, my feet pounding against the polished linoleum. As I passed an operating theater, a glimpse of several figures moving inside spurred me on, my pace quickening with adrenaline. 

But I soon realized something was terribly wrong. 

I couldn't find the elevators. The layout of this wing was a labyrinth of identical corridors, and though I was sure I was retracing my steps, I was hopelessly lost.

An angry shout echoed from behind me. Gritting my teeth, I veered into a different hallway, one that was clearly not an exit. 

Aiden had discovered my escape. If I didn't get away now, they would drag me back.

Panic washed over me, threatening to swallow me whole, but I forced my legs to keep moving. The shouts and footsteps behind me seemed to be getting closer. In a moment of sheer desperation, I pushed open the nearest door I could find and slipped inside.

The moment the door clicked shut, voices erupted just outside.

"Stop! Who are you? You can't just barge in here!" A nurse's sharp voice demanded.

I pressed a hand to my chest, my heart hammering against my ribs so violently I thought it might break free. Then, slowly, I lifted my head.

My breath caught in my throat. I found myself staring into a pair of intensely familiar eyes.

The air in the room turned solid.

On the large hospital bed, a man sat perfectly upright, wearing the standard patient gown as if it were a bespoke suit. He held a book in his hands, and the afternoon sun pouring through the window bathed him in a warm, gentle light that made him look as serene as a jade sculpture. A faint, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips, but it was his eyes—the deep, penetrating gaze fixed on me—that I knew.

I recognized him instantly. It was the man from the black market. The man from the Windsor family.

"We're looking for someone," Aiden's voice cut through the door, tense and demanding. "Our patient, she ran this way."

There was no smell of disinfectant on him; instead, when I got close, there was a cool cedar scent, which actually helped steady my racing heart.

The man's brow furrowed, his eyes dropping to my hand, a flicker of astonishment crossing his features.

"Help me," I whispered, my voice a desperate plea.