The Rose He Killed novel Chapter 280

Chapter 247: Hospitalised

Bella POV

Weeks later

My thumb hovered over the glowing screen of my phone. The financial news alert had popped up at exactly eight in the morning, a bright white banner cutting across my wallpaper.

Marchetti Group Secures Voss Legacy Archive, Appoints New Independent Board Member.

I tapped the link. The page loaded, showing the official Marchetti family crest at the top of the press release.

Down in the third paragraph, my own name sat in clean, black font. The ink on the actual board paperwork was already dry, but seeing it right here, public and permanent, made my chest tighten with a strange sort of relief. It was done.

Olivier sent a text every few days that was barely a sentence and somehow said everything.

Olivier: The board seat is officially yours. Work starts next month. Take care of yourself, Bella.

Enzo, on the other hand, sent voice messages at odd hours. I tapped play on one at two in the morning, holding the phone close to my ear so I would not wake up the house.

“Bella,” his voice came through, loud and full of static, with the sound of traffic in the background. “I found this horrible, overpriced coffee shop near my art studio, and the barista looks exactly like that stiff lawyer Olivier uses for his contracts. I think it is a sign from the universe. Call me when you are awake!”.

I laughed out loud in the middle of the night, which woke Caleb. He did not ask why I was laughing. He just groaned softly, pulled me closer against his chest, and went right back to sleep. We were good. We were better than good.

And then I hit six months.

I stood in front of our bedroom mirror that morning, looking down at the heavy, unmistakable roundness of my stomach.

My belly was quite large now, a solid bulge that stretched tight against my soft linen shirts. The baby was growing fast, kicking harder every day against my ribs. I traced my fingers over the curve, smiling as I felt a small, sudden flutter of life. Everything felt perfect.

And then, everything stopped.

It started on a rainy Thursday as a dull pressure. A low, dense ache settled into my pelvis, but I told myself it was just normal round ligament pain.

I kept working through it all afternoon, sitting at my desk, sorting corporate files, and ignoring the heavy, stubborn pull in my lower back.

By eleven at night, the house was completely dark. I walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Chapter 242 Hospitaliced

Halfway across the room, a sharp, tight spike of pain shot through my abdomen.

Claim

My knees buckled. My breath caught hard in my throat. I dropped the glass, and it shattered across the tile floor.

I reached out, gripping the edge of the granite counter with both hands to keep from falling. I could not move. I could not speak. I just stood there in the dark, sweating, breathing very carefully, like the wrong breath would crack something open inside me.

“Caleb…” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper in the quiet house. The pain spiked again, ripping through my abdomen, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I forced air into my lungs, trying to find enough strength to scream. “Caleb!”

Caleb ran into the kitchen a second later, his bare feet sliding on the wood floor. He saw the broken glass, and then he saw my face.

“Bella?” he said, his voice instantly tight with fear. He came right to my side, his hands hovering over my shoulders, afraid to touch me. “What is it? Is it the baby? Are you bleeding?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. My knuckles were white against the counter. “It is just… a lot of pressure. It hurts, Caleb. It really hurts.”

He did not say another word. He did not try to make me wait it out. He picked up his phone, dialed Dr. Okafor’s number on speaker, and pressed it to his ear while he wrapped his heavy arm around my waist to keep me steady. I was too tired, and too scared, to argue.

Dr. Okafor answered on the third ring, her voice calm but sharp. Caleb explained the pressure and the sudden, blinding pain.

She did not hesitate. “Bring her straight to the triage unit at the hospital. Do not wait for the morning.”

The drive was a blur of dark streets and Caleb’s hand holding mine tightly across the center console. Every single bump in the road made me squeeze my eyes shut.

When we screeched to a halt under the bright lights of the emergency entrance, the automatic glass doors slid open immediately. Two nurses hurried out onto the curb, pushing a metal wheelchair between them. They must have seen the car speeding in.

Caleb sprang out of the driver’s seat, running around to my side to open the door. He and the first nurse carefully lifted me out of the seat and guided me down into the chair.

The second nurse met my eyes, her expression focused and calm. “What is your name, honey? How far along are you?”

“Bella-Black,” I managed to squeeze out, my fingers digging into the plastic armrests of the wheelchair “Six months. I have a terrible pressure in my pelvis.”

“Okay, Bella, let’s get you straight back,” she said, checking my pulse as we went.

They wheeled me rapidly through the automatic doors, bypassing the waiting room entirely. Caleb jogged right beside the chair, his hand firmly holding mine, his face pale and tight under the bright fluorescent hallway lights.

They took me back into a small, sterile room. The nurses moved fast, helping me onto the bed. Within

23

Chapter 42 #fospitalised

Clam

seconds, one hooked a clear fluid line into the back of my hand, while the other strapped a wide fetal monitor across my big, round belly. The steady, fast thumping of the heartbeat filled the room, making me take a long, shaking breath.

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