Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 13: Chapter 13

"What if he doesn't make it?" I pressed, my voice shaky, filled with bitterness.
"There's no 'what if,'" he replied, his tone cold and final.
"Even if our son dies, you'd still defend Diana, wouldn't you?" I let out a hollow, bitter laugh, my throat tight. "Let her get away with everything, unscathed, while I lose everything?"
To Quinn, wasn't everyone disposable, except Diana?
Suddenly, he whirled around, fury blazing in his eyes. He stormed over to me, stopping just a few inches away, his gaze red and filled with rage. "I said, that won't happen!" His voice was low, harsh, like a warning.
For a brief moment, I thought I saw something else flicker in his eyes—pain, maybe, or vulnerability—but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same cold, impenetrable mask.
Quinn stood over me, his frame towering, his jaw tight with frustration. He opened his mouth, like he was about to say something, but then hesitated, thinking better of it.
His brown eyes locked onto mine, steady and unreadable, and after a long, agonizing pause, he finally said, his voice chillingly detached, "If you die, I wouldn't mind finding our son a new mother."
A cold shiver ran down my spine as he walked away, his words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. My chest tightened, and my heart sank, the weight of despair settling deep inside me.
No one—no one—was going to take my child from me.
I realized that if I wanted to protect my child, I had to get better, and fast.
That evening, when the nurse brought in a tray of nutrient-rich food, I didn't hesitate. I ate every last bite. I endured every injection, every treatment, no matter how uncomfortable.
Anything it took to get me back on my feet. Over the next few days, I could feel my strength slowly returning.
"You're recovering well," Aiden said, flashing a smile after his latest check-up.
"When can I leave the hospital?" I asked.
Aiden placed my medical report on the bedside table, then looked at me with a hint of excitement in his eyes. "You'll need a few more days under observation," he said, his smile deepening. "But I've got some news about your son."
My heart skipped a beat. "What is it? What happened to him?" I asked, my voice a little too eager, a little too sharp.
"Don't worry," Aiden reassured me. "It's good news. The latest test results show that his vital signs are stabilizing, and his organs are developing properly."
I barely registered the medical terms. All I cared about was hearing that my son was alive.
I could feel a rush of relief flood through me, and before I even realized it, I was practically launching myself out of bed, eager to see him.
My excitement made me clumsy, though. As I slid into my shoes, I lost my balance and nearly toppled over.
Aiden caught me just in time. "Careful!" he said, his arms steadying me, his voice filled with concern.
"I'm fine," I said with a sheepish smile, finally managing to steady myself. But just as I was about to take another step, a chill prickled down my spine.
I turned instinctively, and my eyes met Quinn's—his intense gaze boring into me from the doorway. His face was dark, his expression unreadable, like a storm brewing beneath the surface.
When had he arrived?
Aiden followed my gaze and noticed Quinn standing there, his presence immediately altering the mood in the room. The moment between Aiden and me had been too close, too easily misinterpreted.
I quickly tried to ease the tension, not wanting to make things awkward for Aiden. "I almost lost my balance just now," I said, forcing a smile. "Aiden caught me in time."
As I spoke, I shot a quick glance at Quinn, but his narrowed eyes gave nothing away. His emotions were hidden behind a mask, unreadable.
"I'll continue my rounds and check on you later," Aiden said, offering a polite smile and a brief nod to Quinn before heading out of the room.
Once Aiden was gone, Quinn stayed where he was, rooted to the doorway, his gaze fixed on me.
I wasn't in the mood to unravel whatever was going on in his head. My mind was consumed with my son's recovery, and I was desperate to see him again.
Walking up to Quinn, I couldn't help the joy that slipped into my voice. "Do you want to go see our son together?"
But instead of answering, Quinn's lips curled into a cold, almost mocking smirk. "So that's why you're in such a rush to divorce me. For him."
His words hit me like a slap to the face. I hadn't just been misunderstood—I hadn't even been given a chance to explain myself.
All the frustration, the sleepless nights, the silent tears of the past few days came rushing back. My heart felt heavy, the bitter taste of defeat settling in.
"Fine, since we're divorcing, then please, Mr. Madden, stay the hell out of my business!" I snapped, brushing past him, heading for the door.
Before I could make it two steps, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with a grip that was almost too tight. With a forceful push, he slammed me back against the door, his breath hot and ragged against my ear.
"Natalia," he growled, his voice icy and low, "Don't push your luck."