Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

The door swung open, and Alex strode in like a whirlwind, radiating energy and authority.
"Quinn, what the hell are you doing sitting there like a statue? Natalia doesn't even have a proper place to rest! She's pregnant, for crying out loud. Move!"
His sharp gaze swept the room, his tone loaded with disapproval. "And what's with this shoebox of a room? It's practically bare-bones. Quinn, go find the hospital director and arrange for the best suite—now."
Quinn shot me a brief, unreadable look before standing and leaving without a word.
Alex settled himself into the armchair beside the bed, his demeanor instantly shifting as he smiled warmly at me. "Natalia, your only job right now is to focus on yourself and that baby, alright?
"Don't you worry about your dad's company—I've already had the funds transferred to help him out."
Relief flooded me, and I smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Alex. I'll find a way to repay you as soon as possible."
Alex chuckled, his sharp eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Oh, Natalia, let's not get all formal. We're family. Think of it as a little investment in my future great-grandchild."
The meaning behind his words wasn't lost on me. That "help" for my dad's company wasn't entirely free. If I divorced Quinn or tried to take the baby, Alex wouldn't hesitate to turn that favor into leverage.
I pressed my lips together, unsure of what to say.
Alex handed me a glass of water, his tone firm but kind. "Natalia, listen to me. I know you've been through hell and back, but as long as I'm around, that Terell woman won't get within spitting distance of this family.
"Once that baby is here, Quinn will wake up and realize what he's got in you."
His words were meant to reassure, but they only made the knot in my chest tighten. Divorce would have to wait—for now.
I nodded faintly, lifting the glass to my lips and downing the water in one go.
An hour later, I was moved to the top-floor VVIP suite, complete with floor-to-ceiling windows and a view that screamed wealth.
Alex wasn't taking no for an answer—he insisted Quinn stay and have dinner with me, though I could tell Quinn wasn't thrilled about it.
The meal was straight out of a five-star dining experience, courtesy of a Michelin-star chef Alex had personally arranged. The table was packed with gourmet dishes—truffle risotto, steak, and even a tower of macarons for dessert.
But I barely had an appetite. I pushed the food around my plate while Quinn didn't bother touching his at all.
He sat on the sleek black leather sofa, his focus entirely on the iPad in his hands. His fingers flew over the screen, lost in whatever work had his attention, leaving me to sit in silence.
I didn't want to bother him, but then my phone buzzed. It was Elijah.
"Natalia, how are you feeling?" Elijah asked, his voice full of concern. Since being released from detainment, he'd been bedridden with a fever and hadn't been able to visit me.
"I'm fine, Dad," I replied softly, glancing at Quinn. He hadn't even looked up, so I relaxed and let the conversation flow.
"Natalia, did you have a fight with your mother?" Elijah sighed, his voice a mix of frustration and care. "You know how she is—short-tempered, always snapping. But don't take it personally. She really does care about you. You've been like our own daughter ever since you came into our lives. We've always thought of you as family."
His words tugged at my heart. For all her harshness, I couldn't bring myself to resent her. They had raised me, after all.
"I understand, Dad. You take care of yourself, okay?" I smiled, though it was tinged with bitterness.
After hanging up, I looked up to find Quinn had put the iPad down. He was leaning back on the sofa, eyes closed, looking like he was trying to catch a moment of rest.
My gaze lingered on him—his strong jawline, his features perfectly chiseled, like something straight out of a statue.
He was effortlessly handsome, successful, and loaded, the kind of guy everyone either envied or idolized. The golden boy, the one who seemed to have it all together.
Sensing my gaze, he opened his eyes lazily, his voice cutting through the silence. "You done eating?"
"Yeah," I mumbled.
"If you need anything, call me directly. Don't bother Grandpa," he said flatly, his tone cold and distant.
Did he think I'd orchestrated Alex's meddling? That I'd pulled strings to make him stay tonight?
I couldn't stop myself from blurting out, "I didn't ask Alex to make you stay. If you're busy, you can leave."