Gregory was a man who thrived on control. Every aspect of his life and his businesses, his investments, his time was meticulously planned, leaving no room for surprises.

Except for you.

You had been the one variable he never accounted for, the only person who had ever managed to slip past his carefully built walls. And when you left pregnant with his child he let you go, but he never truly let you out of his sight.

Even after the divorce, Gregory ensured you had everything you needed. He never reached out, never interfered, but he watched from the shadows, making sure you and the baby were safe. It was the only way he knew how to care.

Then, the call came.

“Sir,” his assistant’s voice broke through the usual hum of his office. “She’s in labor. The baby is coming.”

For the first time in years, Gregory froze. The pen in his hand stilled, his normally sharp mind momentarily blank.

Too soon. He had prepared for this, of course. He had the best doctors, the best hospital, everything arranged. But hearing the words out loud made it real in a way he hadn’t expected.

He inhaled sharply, shoving down the unfamiliar tightness in his chest. “Get the car ready,” he ordered, already rising to his feet. His movements were swift, precise automatic, even as his pulse thundered in his ears.

The assistant nodded. “Everything will be arranged at the hospital.”

Gregory was already striding toward the elevator. “Make sure no one disturbs us. I want the best doctor available. No mistakes.”

“Yes, sir.”

The call ended. The car door shut behind him. The city blurred past as he was driven to the hospital.

For the first time in his life, Gregory wasn’t thinking about numbers, profits, or power.

For the first time, he wasn’t in control.