Spectacular Comeback Of The Abandoned Pregnant Wife

Gideon Whitney dropped to one knee on the floor. His gaze swept over the pool of blood staining Adaline's skirt, and the expression behind his gold-rimmed glasses instantly hardened into pure clinical resolve.

Without a second of hesitation, he slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her shoulders, lifting her from the cold tile in a single fluid motion.

Adaline's head fell against his broad chest. A distinct scent enveloped her senses: crisp, natural cedar blended with cool mountain pine, sharp enough to pierce through the heavy odor of antiseptic. In the midst of her severe panic and physical agony, the searing warmth of his chest and the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat provided an inexplicable, overwhelming sense of safety. She felt an instinctual reassurance that this man, a complete stranger, would not let her die.

The fragrance triggered a faint, distant spark deep in her memory. It was the exact same scent that had enveloped her in the pitch-black hotel room seven months ago. But before the realization could fully form, the agonizing cramp in her womb shattered her thoughts.

Gideon kicked the double doors wide and strode into the hallway, his long strides swift and utterly steady.

"Trauma Bay Three, right now!" he barked at the central nursing station. "Notify the blood bank for O-negative, and prep five milligrams of terbutaline!"

The nurses snapped to attention, their faces pale at the rare sharpness in the lead surgeon's voice. A mobile gurney was pushed forward instantly.

Gideon laid Adaline gently onto the gurney. As the wheels began to roll at high speed down the restricted corridor, his gloved fingers closed firmly around her ice-cold hand.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here," Gideon said, his low baritone slicing through the sterile chaos.

The quiet authority in his words anchored her slipping consciousness. Adaline's fingers reflexively tightened around his, clinging to him like a drowning woman to a lifeline.

Meanwhile, across town in a luxurious, sunlit penthouse, the atmosphere was entirely different. Clifton stared at the disconnected call screen on his phone, his handsome face darkening slightly. The call duration showed several minutes. He had heard that broken, uncontrollable sob just before he mercilessly hung up. Adaline had heard everything.

Jacquelyn leaned against his shoulder, her eyes flashing with a calculating gleam. She quickly put on a mask of deep, sisterly concern. "Clifton, Adaline was on the line? Did she hear us? She sounded so heartbroken crying like that. I'm so worried she might overthink things."

Clifton remained silent, his jaw clenched tight. A complicated emotion flickered in his eyes. For the past three years, Adaline had indeed been a flawless, obedient wife. She meticulously planned his nutritious meals, coordinated his tailored suits for every occasion, and stayed up to take care of him no matter how late or drunk he returned. The sudden realization that he was completely breaking things off with her brought a fleeting, selfish sense of regret.

Noticing the slight softening in his expression, Jacquelyn gritted her teeth secretly. She could not let him waver. She adopted a gentle, hesitant tone. "Why don't you go back to her side? She has always believed she was our parents' biological daughter. If she finds out she was just adopted from an orphanage, and that the baby isn't even yours, she'll break down completely. If you go back to her now, at least you can comfort her a little."

Hearing this, Clifton's expression instantly turned freezing cold, exactly as Jacquelyn had anticipated. His pride and arrogance surged back. He let out a cruel, dismissive sneer. "Comfort her? She brought this upon herself. I won't just make her give up the position of Mrs. Pace; I will make her walk away empty-handed! I want her to taste the exact same suffering you went through!"

Three years ago, Adaline had selfishly used her study-abroad quota to force a pregnant Jacquelyn to leave the country and wander helplessly. Therefore, the cold treatment Adaline received these past three years was completely well-deserved.

The family of three cuddled intimately again. Clifton kissed Jacquelyn's forehead. "You are simply too kind-hearted, my love. At Dotty's birthday banquet tonight, I am going to officially announce your and Dotty's identities to the public. The world will know you are the only woman for me."

Jacquelyn's smug, victorious expression was almost impossible to hide, but her tone remained artificially worried. "But what about the baby in Adaline's belly? What if she comes to the gala?"

Clifton smiled with absolute, arrogant certainty. "I want her to come. In fact, I'm going to have Kavon bring her to the gala. She loves me to death. Now that she knows the child isn't mine, she'll probably throw it in the trash right away just to come back and please me. I want her to stand there tonight and witness everything, so she can finally recognize her proper place. She doesn't have the guts to keep a wild seed, nor the spine to defy me."

Back in Trauma Bay Three, ten minutes of aggressive medical intervention followed. Under Gideon's rapid, precise commands, the shrill alarms on the cardiac monitors gradually quieted into a steady, rhythmic beep.

"Bleeding has stopped, Doctor," the head nurse reported, letting out a breath. "Fetal heart rate is back to a stable 145."

Gideon stripped off his blood-stained gloves, tossing them into the biohazard bin. He walked over to the stainless-steel sink and washed his hands with surgical soap, his gaze fixed on Adaline's reflection in the mirror above.

Adaline's eyelashes fluttered open. The blur in her vision cleared, revealing the tall, broad-shouldered man drying his hands with a paper towel.

"Thank you, Doctor," she whispered, her throat dry and raw.

Gideon tossed the towel aside and walked back to the edge of her bed, looking down at her with a calm, unreadable expression. He pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"You suffered a severe threatened abortion caused by acute stress," Gideon said, his voice measured. "If you had arrived five minutes later, no doctor in Manhattan could have saved this child."

Adaline gave a bitter, fragile smile, resting her palm over her stomach. "I know. I was careless. But it won't happen again. From now on, no one will hurt this baby."

Before they could speak further, a loud, aggressive commotion erupted from the hallway outside the trauma ward. A man's arrogant voice echoed clearly through the heavy door.

"Get out of my way! I am Kavon Cochran, the executive assistant to Clifton Pace. My boss ordered me to bring his wife to the gala, and no public hospital nobody is going to stop me!"