"He Burned His Empire for My First Contraction" The heavy glass door swung open, and two security guards rushed in, wide-eyed at the sight of the ruthless Adrian Whitmore kneeling on the cold marble floor.

"He Burned His Empire for My First Contraction"The heavy glass door swung open, and two security guards rushed in, wide-eyed at the sight of the ruthless Adrian Whitmore kneeling on the cold marble floor.

"I said call an ambulance, damn it!" Adrian bellowed, his voice echoing through the executive hallway. His tailored charcoal suit jacket was already on the floor, rolled tightly and placed behind my back to cushion me.

"Mr. Whitmore, the paramedics say traffic in Midtown is completely paralyzed," Henderson stammered from the doorway, his hands trembling around his tablet. "It will take at least forty minutes for an ambulance to reach us."

Forty minutes. I looked down at the puddle of clear liquid soaking through my cheap black flats. Another contraction slammed into my lower belly like a physical blow, tearing a strangled scream from my throat.

"We don't have forty minutes," Adrian growled. He didn't hesitate. He slipped his powerful arms beneath my knees and lower back, lifting me into his chest in one fluid motion.

"Adrian, wait—the papers—" I gasped, clutching his crisp white shirt as a fresh wave of panic hit me.

"To hell with the papers!" he snapped, his dark blue eyes blazing with a terrifying intensity. "To hell with the divorce, Lena! You're carrying my child, and you're bleeding!"

He carried me out of the conference room, completely ignoring the shock on his employees' faces. Executives, secretaries, and junior partners lined the hallway, staring in absolute silence as their notoriously ice-cold CEO marched toward his private elevator, holding his disheveled, pregnant ex-wife against his chest.

Inside the private lift, Adrian pinned the emergency override button. The elevator dropped rapidly toward the underground helipad.

"Why didn't you tell me?" his voice cracked, the raw pain slipping through his rigid demeanor. "Eight months, Lena. Eight months I searched every corner of this country. I thought you were dead. I thought someone took you to get to me!"

"I had to leave, Adrian," I sobbed, resting my forehead against his heartbeat. It was hammering frantically beneath his ribs. "If I stayed... they would have killed our baby."

Adrian froze as the lift doors opened to the windy helipad where his private choppers sat idling.

"Who?" he demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, lethal register. "Who threatened you, Lena?"

Before I could answer, my body contorted in a blinding spike of agony. I screamed, digging my nails into his shoulder.

"Get the bird in the air now!" Adrian screamed at the pilot, carrying me up the chopper steps. "Presbyterian Hospital! Clear the LZ or I’ll buy the hospital and fire every doctor on the board!"

As the helicopter lifted into the gray Manhattan sky, Adrian cradled my head, kissing my sweaty forehead repeatedly. But as I looked out the chopper window, down at the street below, I saw a black SUV parked across from Whitmore Holdings.