Shadows Of A Forgotten Spring
Billionaire Shadow 137

Chapter 137

Emma was whisked into the wing of emergencies at Blackthorn ospital with an urgency that set the entire staff on overdrive. Chaos erupted: orders being barked out by nurses, equipment clattering while being wheeled into place, and monitors blaring as Emma was transferred onto the operating table. Her fragile body battered from the explosion, her shallow breaths were faint and barely hanging in there.

The head surgeon gave a quick assessment of her status, his face grim. "We need to operate immediately. Prepare for surgery now!" he commanded as his voice sliced through the noise.

Emma was badly injured: she had a deep head wound, and scans revealed a ruptured liver from the impact. Every second counted. More than fifty medical professionals came together to save her.

The surgery began. The operation was high staked and everyone understood the gravity of their task: Emma Black wasn't just any patient; she was the woman Alexander Black, their CEO, had risked his life to save as well as his ex-wife. Meanwhile in a nearby recovery room Alexander stirred awake. For a moment he was disoriented. His mind was clouded by exhaustion and the effect of the smoke inhalation.

Then it hit him-Emma.

His eyes flew open, memories coming back in a flood of detail. Panic swelled inside him, and he sat up abruptly, yanking the IV from his arm without so much as a hesitation. The sharp sting was nothing next to the ache in his heart. "Sir, you need to rest!" Kevin and some doctors said, stepping forward to stop him.

But Alexander's eyes were wild, desperate. "I need to see her," he said hoarsely, his voice cracking. "I need to know she's alive.

Trying to reason with him, Kevin said, "The doctors are doing everything they can. You need to rest, sir."

Alexander coldly shrugged Kevin off, and in his voice was icy determination. "I don't care. I need to see her. Now. Right now."

Without waiting for an answer, he stormed down the corridor, his steps echoing against the sterile walls of the hospital, startled nurses and doctors attempted to intervene, their protest falling in deaf ears. Nothing mattered anymore: no protocol, no rule, none but her! Bursting into the emergency operation room, Alexander froze as his gaze locked onto the scene in front of him. Emma was lying unconscious on the table, her head propped with caution, and the skull partly opened, as surgeons were in fierce hurry to save her life. The scene was bloody, but Alexander's eyes saw only the woman he loved.

His chest constricted, pain radiating through him like a physical blow. His fists clenched at his sides, white at the knuckles as his heart screamed in anguish he could barely hold inside. His burning lungs pale in comparison to his burning heart.

All along, he had been blind to what she meant to him. Now, staring at her broken body, it finally hit him like a tidal wave. She wasn't just his ex-wife; she was everything. His anchor, his light, the reason he'd kept going even when he didn't know it. And now she was slipping away.

Alexander's mind whirled back to her last words before she'd passed out. "Alexander, Emily and Ethan are your children." The words had shattered something inside him, leaving him raw and exposed.

His mind was a maelstrom. Four years. Four long years of missing out on his children's lives.

How could he have been so blind? A month before their divorce, they shared a night together-the only time they ever had in their five-year marriage. And before that? Just once before the wedding. He had convinced himself that the first night didn't matter, born out of his greed to inherit his father's company. But not anymore.

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11:12 Sat, Jan 4G.

Chapter 137

That night, one month before all went to hell, had given him his children.

Emma had known the whole time, having to carry the weight of that secret and keeping him in the dark. And because of her decision, he had missed so much.

First words from Ethan, first steps from Emily, the innumerable moments that went into shaping the tender lives of the twins, and tears welled in his eyes.

He immediately thought of Ethan, the little boy he met at the airport months ago. The instant connection they had felt made perfect sense now. Ethan wasn't just any child; he was his son. And Emily, sweet, fragile Emily, had been in his hospital for months fighting for her life while Emma silently bore the burden alone.

His jaw clenched in the maelstrom of emotions that wrestled within him-anger, betrayal, and regret. Emma had stolen those irreplaceable years from him, years he would never get back. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, his breathing coming in heavy gasps as he fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

But amidst the pain, guilt clawed at him. Why hadn't he noticed the resemblance before? He had been consumed by his bitterness, blinded by judgment and resentment toward Emma, to see the truth that had always stared him right in the face.

If this tragedy hadn't happened, if that explosion hadn't blown the truth to the surface, would he have ever known? Would Emma have ever told him? The thought pierced his heart even deeper.

He bit his lip harder, drawing blood, as his gaze stayed fixed on Emma. She looked so small, so vulnerable, lying there surrounded by machines and busy hands. For years, he had tried to hate her, convincing himself that she wasn't worthy of his love. But now, all he could feel was a deep, unrelenting sorrow for the woman who had carried their children in secret, who had borne so much pain and responsibility without asking for anything in return.

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Chapter 138