Rain hammered down, drowning out the sound of her sobs. Viktoria gripped the railing, her fingers stiff. The cold metal bit into her palms. Her whole body trembling. The city lights blurred behind her. The lightning split the sky, but nothing was louder than the voice in her head.
You killed her!
She gasped, each inhale felt like swallowing glass. Choking on air, on grief, on guilt. Her sister, Lily's heart had stopped under her hands.
Flatline.
The long piercing beep that her memory kept playing in an endless loop in her head, hitting her like a gunshot,
Her hands. Her scalpel. Her fault. Her failure.
A sob tore free, raw and violent. She clutched her chest, gasping for air, but none of it filled her lungs. She had saved strangers, countless strangers. But the only one person who she had, Gone. And it was all on her. This wasn't a correct path, but she couldn't think straight.
With one step forward, the wind howled, the river waited beneath her, wild and unforgiving.
She let go.
The cold hit her like a sledgehammer, the water swallowing her whole, dragging her into its icy depths. Darkness closed in, thick and suffocating. A sudden searing pain tore through her pelvis, jolting her back to awareness.
'Did she hit something?'
"She's crashing, Get the crash cart!"
"We're losing her!"
Pain. sharp, searing, unrelenting worse than her cramps, tearing through her numbness. Her body convulsed, she thought she was dying. But no, this was something else. Something worse.
Her eyes fluttered open, the world was wrong. The sterile glare of the hospital lights blinded her, the antiseptic air she was used to was everywhere. Voices buzzed around her, frantic and urgent.
"Miss Vaughn, stay with us! You have to push!"
Viktoria's breath hitched. 'Miss Vaughn? Who is she?'
She tried to move, to speak, but her body felt foreign, heavy and unresponsive. The pain in her pelvis was unbearable, a crushing pressure that made her want to scream. She looked down, her vision swimming and saw a swell of a pregnant belly, the sheets beneath her soaked with blood.
This was not her body! This was not her life!
"She's stable," someone shouted, but the words barely registered. The pressure intensified, a relentless force demanding her attention, "Miss Vaughn, you have to push now! The baby's in distress!"
'BABY!?' Viktoria's mind reeled. This couldn't be real. She wasn't supposed to be her. But the pain was real, the voices were real and the life inside her-fighting to be born-was real.
"Scarlett! What did you do this time?!"
A voice boomed in the room as the door opened and the towering figure barged in enraged. His presence filing the room cutting through the haze of her thoughts.
"Mr. Bellingham," The nurses stepped backwards while bowing.
His cold eyes glanced at the things that were happening in front of him, without a word, he crossed the room, his tailored suit unruffled and settled onto the sofa.
"She's crowning!"
"Push harder Miss Vaughn!"
With no time to process anything, because another agonizing contraction ripped through her, forcing a scream from her lips.
"Her head is out! Push!"
Her nails dug into the sheets. She gasped for breath, her body trembling violently with the excruciating pain she felt.
"I don't want to do this!" She shouted, her voice cracked.
"You're almost there, Miss Vaughn! just one more push!"
Viktoria's vision blurred as sweat dripped down her temples, her body shaking from exhaustion. Every nerve in her body screamed for relief, but the agony only intensified.
A chocked sob tore from her lips as another wave of unbearable pain crashed over her. With the last ounce of strength left in her trembling body, she bore down, her scream filling the room.
And then-relief, A sharp cry pierced the air, a fragile, tiny sound that made her entire body freeze.
"You did it, Miss Vaughn!" The doctor announced.
Viktoria's chest heaved, her heartbeat ponding in her ears. She was extremely exhausted than the time she had to pull an all-rounder in the operating room for a fortnight.
"Let me see her..." She reached out weakly.
The nurse carefully wrapped the newborn in a soft white blanket and placed her into her waiting arms. She cradled the baby with a practiced ease, smiling as she looked down at the tiny chubby cute face.
"You need to feed her." The doctor told her.
She cradled the baby gently, guiding her to her breast. She winced as the baby latched on, the unfamiliar sensation making her tense. Viktoria swiped her eyes through the room and then saw people with cameras in the room.
'What?! Is this a drama? BUT Why is it so real!?'
Viktoria - no, Scarlett, tightened her grip on the newborn as the camera crew hesitated, his hand hovering over the equipment. The bright lights and recording devices training on her like she was some reality show contestant. The weight of reality pressed down on her like an iron vice.
'This isn't my body or my baby or my life!'
But still the raw pain she felt, the exhaustion seeping into her bones, the baby suckling her - they were all real.
"Delete everything!" Steadying herself, her voice though hoarse, carried an edge of finality.
The camera man blinked, "Miss Vaughn, you personally hired us for this. You wanted the raw, unfiltered journey of bringing your daughter into the world-"
Her stomach twisted. 'They think I'm her. Because I am her now!'
Scarlett's eyes darkened, "And now I don't" She inhaled sharply, adjusting the newborn in her arms, "Give me the camera!"
The crew exchanged glances, but the authority in her tone left no room for argument. One by one, they wiped the memory cards, showing her the empty files before packing up their equipment.
As the last of them hurried out, silence settled over the room.
Scarlett forced herself to blink past the dizziness, her limbs trembling. She barely had the strength to sit up.
That's when she saw him.
Seated on the couch like he belonged to a different world entirely, Mr. Bellingham watched her with an expression so blank it bordered on boredom. Legs crossed, fingers lazily tapping against the armrest, his entire posture screaming indifference.
Her pulse slowed. 'Who...?'
Then realization struck.
Scarlett's husband!
'So, this is my husband.'
He wasn't overjoyed. He wasn't concerned. The disdain in his eyes told her everything. He hated her. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there. And yet... he's there.
"Take her" She said.
Nothing.
He didn't react, as if the request wasn't worth acknowledging.
Scarlett held out the baby unbothered, "I'm passing out in five seconds, Bellingham." She smirked, "Hold your daughter, husband."
His eyes flashed.
And then- without a word, he stood, stepping forward and took the baby from her arms with a gentleness that contradicted every ounce of his hatred.
Scarlett let her body sag against the pillows, the weight of exhaustion finally overtaking her. As her vision darkened, she swore she saw something flicker across his face.
Confusion.
Like he wasn't sure what had happened.
She smirked weakly, 'That make two of us.'
Mr. Bellingham stood motionless. Azalea, his daughter, lay in his arms, her tiny form dwarfed by his broad frame. She stirred slightly, letting out a soft whimper. Her soft breath a stark contrast to the tension radiating through his body. He stared down at her, his usual composure replaced by something far more uncertain.
The door swung open, and Rowan, his assistant, stepped in, a tablet in hand.
"Director, Duke Whitmore wants... " He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he took in the scene... Master Bellingham, the cold man who could command a room with a single glance, standing stiffly with a newborn cradled awkwardly in his arms.
Rowan cleared his throat, masking a faint smile, "Director, do you need... assistance?"
Bellingham's cold eyes flicked to him, but he didn't respond.
Rowan glanced at the ornate crib in the corner then back at his CEO, "You know you could put her down. In the crib. Just a thought."
Bellingham's gaze shifted to the crib, his face betraying nothing. For a moment he didn't move, his posture as rigid as ever.
Rowan waited, his tone carefully neutral, "It might be more comfortable for her."
Bellingham's eyes narrowed and for a split second, Rowan thought he might actually snap. But instead, Bellingham turned his attention back to the baby, his voice cold and measured.
"How?"