Snatched a Billionaire to Be My Husband — Episode 20
Cora woke beneath hospital lights with Carter sitting beside her bed. Memory returned in a violent rush: the gunshot, Byron’s blood across her hands, and the frightening weakness of his voice. She tore at the monitor leads and demanded to know where he was.
“In surgery,” Carter said, stopping her before she could stand. “The bullet missed a major artery, but he lost a lot of blood.” The reassurance was not enough. Cora had watched her father vanish into death and her mother disappear behind machines. She could not endure another hallway where love became waiting. The antiseptic air seemed to carry every fear she had survived since the Lane collapse.
“How long?” she asked. “Almost two hours.” Carter explained that Vincent had been arrested and the key recovered. The fire was contained, the guests were safe, and police had linked Vincent’s payments to Malcolm. Every part of their plan had succeeded except the part that mattered most.
Dr. Kim entered with a chart, surprising Cora until she remembered that Evelyn had been transferred into the same medical network. “You fainted from stress, exhaustion, and low blood sugar,” he said. “But your bloodwork showed something else we need to discuss.”
Cora barely listened. “Can it wait until Byron is out of surgery?” Dr. Kim exchanged a glance with Carter, who quietly excused himself. The privacy made unease crawl beneath her skin.
“When was your last menstrual period?” the doctor asked. Cora stared at him. The past month had been measured in hospital bills, investigations, and contracts rather than ordinary days. She counted backward and realized the date should have arrived more than a week ago.
Dr. Kim placed the laboratory result in her hands. “The test is positive. Based on the hormone level, you’re likely several weeks pregnant.” The room became unnaturally quiet. Cora read the result twice, unable to connect the clinical words to the night that had changed everything.
There could be no question about the father. Byron was the only man she had been with, the only man who had touched her since long before Easton ended their engagement. Their reckless revenge had created a life before either of them understood what they were becoming. Every rule they had written afterward seemed smaller than the future taking shape inside her. The knowledge was terrifying, but it was also hers to welcome.
Joy rose first, fragile and astonishing. Fear followed close behind. Byron was in surgery because he had put his body between her and a bullet, while she carried a child who might never meet him. Cora pressed one hand to her abdomen as though she could protect both of them through will alone.
Evelyn arrived in a wheelchair with a nurse, pale but determined. Cora had tried to shield her from the gala, but news traveled quickly through hospital staff. She looked stronger than she had three weeks earlier, though worry deepened every line around her eyes. “My darling girl,” Evelyn whispered, holding out her hand.
Cora knelt beside her mother and finally cried. She confessed the pregnancy between broken breaths, expecting alarm or disappointment. Evelyn cupped her cheek. “Then this child begins with truth. No shame, no bargain, and no family deciding what you deserve.”
“What if Byron doesn’t wake up?” Cora asked. Evelyn’s grip strengthened. “Then you tell him everything you never had the courage to say, and you give him a reason to fight his way back.”
The surgeon appeared before Cora could answer. Byron had survived the procedure, but internal bleeding had made the operation difficult. He would remain under close observation until the anesthesia cleared, and the next several hours would determine whether complications developed.
Cora entered the recovery room alone. Byron looked impossibly still beneath the monitors, all the authority that defined him reduced to a measured pulse on a screen. The sight stripped wealth, contracts, and family power of all meaning. She sat beside him and placed the emerald ring against his palm.
“I thought marriage was the biggest reckless promise I could make,” she murmured. “Apparently, we made another one first.” She guided his hand to rest against her abdomen, knowing he could not yet feel the life hidden there.
She told him that the contract no longer mattered, that she had put the ring back on before she knew about the baby, and that she wanted the man who listened when she set boundaries and stayed when trusting him was difficult. “I love you, Byron. You have to wake up so I can say it while you’re able to argue.”
His fingers moved beneath hers. Cora stopped breathing and leaned closer. Byron’s eyelids opened slowly, confusion giving way to recognition. “You love me?” he whispered through the pain.
Relief broke into a laugh. “That is the least important part of what I just told you.” She placed his hand more firmly over her abdomen. Byron followed the gesture, and stunned understanding softened his face.
“A baby?” he asked. Cora nodded. Emotion stripped away his practiced control, leaving wonder, fear, and a tenderness she had never seen. “Then the engagement—” he began, but she stopped him.
“The baby doesn’t turn a contract into a marriage,” Cora said. “Love does.” Byron closed his fingers around hers and gathered enough strength for one final question. “Then forget the six months, forget the board, and forget every bargain. Cora Lane, will you marry me for real?”
