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Husband Delayed Birth for Adopted Son’s Birthday Novel Cover

Husband Delayed Birth for Adopted Son’s Birthday

Eight months pregnant and in active labor, Elena is trapped in a basement by her husband, Adrian Shaw. Obsessed with protecting his adopted son Evan’s birthday from being shared, the billionaire dismisses Elena’s agony as a manipulative scheme for power. He ignores her desperate pleas for medical help and leaves her alone to celebrate with Evan and his mother. By the time Adrian finally inquires about the birth, he discovers the devastating price of his cold cruelty.
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Chapter 4

Mr. Clarke’s eyes widened as he scanned my bloodied body. He asked hesitantly,

“Are you sure that’s red paint?”

Adrian’s voice was firm and unwavering.

“I’m sure. Hand the phone to my wife. I’d like to say a few words to her.”

Mr. Clarke crouched down and brought the phone to my ear, looking at me with sympathy.

Adrian’s voice came through.

“Elena, I’ve had enough of your theatrics. Don’t even talk about giving birth today. You’d better hold it in!

“You don’t care about the baby’s safety and took medicine to induce early labor on your own, but the baby will never share a birthday with Evan. The baby's place will always be beneath Evan’s. Do you understand what I’m saying?

“Now, go back home obediently and don’t embarrass yourself by showing up in public again!”

His words cut through my heart like knives. Not only was I inferior to Sue, but even my child was no match for hers!

Tears mingled with blood slid down my cheeks, falling to the floor with a soft, sickening thud.

“Medicine…” I croaked hoarsely. “Adrian, so this is the extent of your misunderstanding of me. All these years of what I thought was love turn out to be nothing but a cruel joke.”

Adrian paced back and forth. Agitation was written all over him. His hand tightened around the phone as he prepared to scold me when a faint, drifting voice reached his ears.

“Adrian, let’s never see each other again.”

…

Mr. Clarke was kind-hearted enough to ignore what Adrian said about canceling the ambulance and brought me to the hospital.

A cold injection coursed through my body, easing the pain slightly, but a wave of sorrow swept through me. I could feel my child’s life slowly slipping away from me. I was losing her.

When I first discovered I was pregnant, I was overwhelmed with confusion and joy. The baby had been with me for eight months, slowly helping me grow into a mother. The baby shared my blood, and whenever I was sad, it would gently kick inside me as though it was trying to comfort me.

It had not even seen the world yet. It was so close to surviving, so close.

A warm hand gently wiped my tears with a piece of medical gauze, as the doctor above me asked urgently, “Have we contacted the patient’s husband? The pregnant woman’s condition is critical. She needs immediate surgery!”

A nurse chimed in, “Dr. Lane, her husband’s phone was reachable a moment ago, but the call was cut off. Now it’s switched off. We can’t reach him!”

“What about the surgery consent form? Who can sign it?”

“No one. We can’t operate without consent!”

Just as everyone was growing increasingly anxious, the doctor above me let out a heavy sigh and said,

“I remember Professor Quay has a surgery in progress. Ethan, check if it’s over. If it is, make sure he comes here immediately.”

In my haze, I felt the cold surgical instruments moving inside me. Then, faintly, I heard a baby’s cry. My eyes flew open in panic.

“Baby!”

A warm hand grasped my wrist, holding me firmly on the bed. A hoarse voice said, “Don’t move. The IV will come out.”

I turned around, and my eyes instantly turned red. I stared at the figure in front of me in disbelief and murmured, “Jerome…”

Jerome, my second elder brother, looked exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot. He could not hold back tears when he saw my pale face. He turned away, choking back a sob.

“Esmond is on his way.”

I broke down completely, crying like a child.

“Jerome, I was wrong.”

At last, he turned back, pulled me into his arms, and gently patted my head. “It’s okay, Elena. You’re okay. I’m here.”

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