My CEO Ex: Let Me Go.-Chapter 133

Alexander’s POV

Hospital.

The medical staff emerged from the emergency room.

I immediately stood up. "Doctor, how is Vivienne?"

The doctor removed his mask and sighed. "The pregnant woman is at risk of miscarriage. She needs to stay on bed rest to protect the fetus. Her facial injuries are external, but once healed, with proper scar treatment and some therapy, they shouldn’t leave any noticeable marks."

Pregnant?

Miscarriage?

I froze in place, stunned. After a long silence, I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, "What did you say? Vivienne... she’s pregnant?"

The doctor looked at me, clearly surprised.

Then, with a sharp tone, he asked, "What kind of husband are you? Your wife is four months pregnant, and this is the first you’re hearing of it?"

My expression stiffened, and I could hardly believe what I was hearing. "Four months?"

Four months ago, Isabella hadn’t returned yet, and my relationship with Vivienne was still intact.

Had it really been that long?

Did Vivienne know she was pregnant?

The last time I asked her if we had a child, would she still choose to divorce me, she’d said that even if she were pregnant, she wouldn’t keep the baby.

So, she didn’t know she was pregnant?

But four months... how could she not have known?

Then, her harsh words about not wanting the baby must have been a lie.

They were just angry words. She couldn’t possibly want to abort our child.

This child... was mine and Vivienne’s. It was our child...

Everything around me seemed to blur. I wasn’t sure whether I was shocked or happy, but I felt like my heart was being filled with something—something warm and full.

I hadn’t expected that, just as I was about to give up on our marriage, it would get a chance to be revived.

This was my last chance, and I had to hold on to it!

The doctor, noticing the shift in my emotions, reminded me in a serious tone, "The pregnant woman has a special constitution. Her uterus is naturally malformed, and the walls are thin, which makes her prone to miscarriage. Even though she’s passed three months, we mustn’t be careless. If she loses this child, it would be very difficult for her to conceive again. She must be carefully protected, and you need to take extra care of her."

"I understand. I’ll be extra cautious," I said, my voice resolute.

This time, I would protect both her and the baby.

Vivienne was still unconscious when she was moved to the ward.

Her face was swollen, and bandages covered both sides of her cheeks.

I sat by her bedside, gazing deeply at Vivienne’s sleeping face, my eyes filled with tenderness.

I took her hand in mine without a second thought, gently placing my other hand on her belly.

I couldn’t believe it, but there really was a child of ours here.

This child had been growing for four months, slowly developing.

Thankfully, there were surveillance cameras at the entrance of Vanguard Global Enterprises, capturing the scene on the street.

When James couldn’t reach Vivienne by phone, he immediately checked the footage, noted the license plate of the van, and called me.

If it had been any later, I couldn’t even imagine what might have happened.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

I stepped out of the room to answer it.

A young voice came through the receiver. "BOSS, the three men have been caught. The one who hired them was Delilah. When we arrived at The Blackwood Family’s place, Miles was dead on the stairs, and Delilah had run!"

"Call the police. Get them involved. She can’t have gone far—dig up the ground if you have to, find her!" I ordered, my voice cold and sharp.

"Understood."

"As for Isabella, send her to the airport. I’ll have someone arrange the ticket."

"Okay."

After hanging up, Gabriella called. "Sir, it’s so late. Why haven’t you and Vivienne returned yet?"

"Vivienne had some complications. She needs to stay in the hospital for a few days. Gabriella, can you bring her some clothes tomorrow? And make some nourishing soup for her?"

Gabriella’s voice immediately softened with concern. "Vivienne... What happened? Is the baby okay?"

I paused, then casually asked, "Did you know she’s pregnant?"

It was clear from my tone that I already knew, so Gabriella didn’t hide it anymore. "Oh, I’ve known for a while. I wanted to tell you, but Vivienne didn’t want me to say anything."

Vivienne didn’t want to tell me...

Now I was sure. Vivienne had known she was pregnant.

But she still wanted to divorce me and run off with Julian to another country!

As I thought of this, my grip on the phone tightened, and my free hand, which had been hanging by my side, clenched into a fist.

Noticing my silence, Gabriella spoke softly. "Sir, please don’t blame her. She’s not feeling good about this either..."

I remained silent for a moment before responding, my voice low, "I know."

Vivienne was truly hopeless, wasn’t she? She must have felt cold and desperate enough to want to leave with the child.

How had she endured these four months, suffering through the pains of pregnancy and bearing so much injustice?

I was never a good husband, and now... I wasn’t even a good father.

I returned to the ward, sat by the bed again, and gently kissed Vivienne’s forehead.

I wouldn’t let her go again.

I couldn’t let my child call Julian "father."

Never!

Never!

Never!

Isabella’s POV

Inside the hospital

With a loud crash, a glass cup hit the floor, shattering into pieces.

The room descended into chaos.

Two men tried to drag me out, but I clung desperately to the bed’s leg, refusing to let go.

The medical staff stood frozen, unwilling to approach.

In the neighboring VIP rooms, where only the wealthy and influential stayed—those who knew the dark side of the system—everyone shut their doors, indifferent to the scene unfolding.

"Let go of me! I need to call Alexander!" I screamed.

"It’s Alexander who sent us. Calling him won’t change anything. You might as well come with us to the airport!" one of the men snapped back.

"No! I want to hear it from him directly! I’m not leaving unless I hear it from him! If you try to touch me again, I’ll jump out of here!" I threatened.

The two men exchanged a glance. One of them sighed. "Fine. Call him. But when you’re done, you’re coming with us. And if you’re not afraid of dying, go ahead and jump. Worst case, I just end up in prison for a few more years."

The man released his grip, and I immediately grabbed my phone from the bed, frantically dialing Alexander’s number.

Before he picked up, he had already received a photo from the young man—a DNA test report.

I cried into the phone, "Alexander, they’re coming to take me! Please, can you come save me?"

"It’s me who sent them. There’s no way out for you here. Your mother’s murder hasn’t hit the media yet, but if it does, you know the consequences."

If the media caught wind of a famous actress’s mother committing murder—especially of her own husband—the fallout would be unbearable. It would destroy both of us.

I never expected Alexander to learn about it so quickly. I cried out, "No! I don’t want to leave! I don’t want to leave you, Alexander! I love you! Will you come see me, please?"

"We don’t need to meet again."

Hearing him about to hang up, I had no choice but to threaten him. "Wait! Aren’t you curious about why my mother hurt Vivienne? Aren’t you curious about Vivienne’s true background? Aren’t you afraid I’ll expose everything? Aren’t you afraid Vivienne will be ruined?"

Alexander didn’t seem to care. His voice remained low and calm. "You can try if you want."

A bitter, hopeless smile spread across my face as I put the phone down.

Once, Alexander had protected me, favored me, indulged me. But I hadn’t cherished him. Back then, I was too focused on marrying someone else.

Now, I had nothing.

"Let’s go. Stop resisting," one of the men said, pulling me up from the floor.

I stopped struggling and followed them out of the room and into the car.

I sat quietly in the backseat, my eyes fixed on the window, unblinking.

The men beside me seemed to lower their guard.

On the wide road, a red semi-truck loaded with cargo was heading straight toward us.

Just as we were about to pass each other, I suddenly lunged for the steering wheel...

The driver tried to regain control of the car, but it was too late.

Bang—