Chapter 3 - The Faustian Choice
Julian pushed past his mother without another glance, lunging toward the surgeon. "Tell me. What happened?"
Dr. Robert Thorne pulled down his surgical mask, his brow furrowed with deep lines of dread. "Mrs. Sterling suffered an acute placental detachment. There is severe internal hemorrhaging. We managed to stabilize the infant temporarily in the womb, but Claire’s heart went into arrest on the table."
"Is she alive?" Julian’s voice cracked, a horrifying void opening in his chest.
"We resuscitated her, but her cardiovascular system is failing under the strain. We cannot sustain both lives through another ten minutes of surgery," Thorne stated with brutal honesty. "If we perform an emergency Cesarean right now, the baby has a slim chance in the NICU, but the blood loss will kill Claire. If we focus all surgical efforts on sealing Claire's uterine artery, we will lose the child."
"No," Julian choked out, staggering backward against the cold wall. "No, there has to be another way. Take my blood, bring in specialists, do whatever it costs—"
"Mr. Sterling, you have sixty seconds before they both flatline," Dr. Thorne said firmly, his eyes pleading for clarity. "Who do we save? The mother, or the heir?"
Behind Julian, Eleanor stepped forward, her voice cutting through the corridor like a steel blade. "Save the child, Doctor. The Sterling bloodline must continue. It is what Claire would have wanted as a wife."
"Shut your mouth!" Julian screamed at his mother, his eyes wild with grief and fury. He turned back to Dr. Thorne, grabbing the lapels of the surgeon's scrubs. "You save Claire. Do you hear me? You save my wife! If she dies, I will tear this hospital down brick by brick!"
Dr. Thorne nodded grimly. "Understood. We prioritize the mother."
"Julian, you fool!" Eleanor shrieked, grabbing Julian’s arm with claw-like fingers. "You are trading away the only thing that solidifies your claim to the trust! If you have no child, your uncle Marcus inherits the majority voting shares on your thirty-fifth birthday! You are throwing away billions for a waitress!"
Julian turned his head slowly, looking at the woman who had birthed and raised him. "I don't care about the shares, Mother. I don't care about the Sterling name. And the moment Claire wakes up, you are going to prison."
Eleanor’s lips curled into a thin, venomous smile. "Prison? For what, Julian? An unfortunate domestic accident with no witnesses? Arthur has already secured the house."
Julian felt a cold shiver race down his spine. "What did you say?"
"The mansion's security cameras," Arthur Vance spoke up smoothly, tapping his leather briefcase. "An unfortunate electrical surge corrupted the footage from the foyer thirty minutes ago. There is no evidence of anything other than a tragic, clumsy fall."
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Julian took a menacing step toward the lawyer, but the sudden, high-pitched alarm from inside the operating room froze them all in place.
The cardiac monitor had flatlined.
