Chapter 6 - The Heartbeat
The next morning, soft light filtered through the silk curtains of the VIP hospital room, falling across Della's face, still marked by the exhaustion of the night before. She opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw wasn't the familiar hospital ceiling — it was Royce, still seated in the chair beside her bed, his suit slightly wrinkled, but his eyes alert, as if he hadn't slept at all.
"You didn't go home to rest?" Della asked, her voice still hoarse.
"I promised I'd be right outside the door," Royce replied, his voice low but strangely gentle compared to the cold exterior he showed everyone else. "Sitting in here puts me closer to you."
Della lowered her head, flustered, her hands tightening on the edge of the blanket. She still wasn't used to the idea that one of the most powerful men in the city could be this tender — and that this tenderness was directed at her.
There was a knock at the door. A doctor entered, followed by two nurses wheeling in a portable ultrasound machine.
"Ms. Marsh," the doctor said with a smile, "we'll check on the baby's condition after yesterday's shock. Mr. Calloway requested the hospital's best team on standby."
Della turned to look at Royce, surprised. He only gave a small shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
When the ultrasound screen lit up, the sound of a rapid heartbeat filled the room. Della burst into tears — not from fear, but from relief. Royce stood and stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the screen.
"The baby's fine," the doctor announced. "A girl. Completely healthy."
A moment of silence settled over the room. Then Della saw something she never thought she'd witness: Royce Calloway — the man rumored to have no heart at all — with eyes glistening at the corners.
"A daughter," he murmured, almost to himself, as though testing the shape of the word. His hand found Della's on the blanket, and this time, he didn't hesitate to hold it in front of the medical staff.
The doctor cleared his throat politely and excused the nurses, leaving the couple alone with the fading echo of the heartbeat still ringing in the room.
"Royce," Della said quietly, once the door clicked shut, "you don't have to keep acting like... like this is yours to protect. She's not—"
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"She is," Royce cut in, his voice firm but not unkind. "Whether the world knows it or not, whether you accept my name or not — that child will never grow up wondering if someone is watching over her. I already failed to find you for seven years. I won't fail her for a single day."
Della didn't answer. She simply let her hand stay in his, watching the city skyline glimmer faintly through the window, wondering how a night of terror had somehow delivered her into the safest place she'd ever known.
