Chapter 8 - Ten Critical Minutes
The Maybach tore through the estate gates, shattering the heavy chains Clara had been trapped by minutes earlier. Red emergency lights flickered on the dashboard as Damian navigated the serpentine mountain roads leading toward the Vance Private Medical Center in the city center.
Clara was in the back seat, holding Daisy across her lap. Daisy’s lips were now a faint violet, her breathing reduced to shallow, shuddering gasps.
""She’s slipping away, Damian!"" Clara sobbed, rubbing Daisy’s freezing hands between her palms. ""Daisy, baby, look at Mommy. Stay with Mommy. Don't go to sleep, please!""
Damian adjusted the rear-view mirror, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. He tapped the dashboard screen, dialing his personal physician, Dr. Alan Vance.
""Alan,"" Damian barked over the roaring engine. ""Prepare the pediatric cardiac theater. Level one emergency. Ventricular septal rupture sequence. I am bringing in my daughter.""
There was a stunned pause on the other end. ""Your daughter? Damian, what are you talking about?""
""Do not ask questions!"" Damian roared. ""Have the bypass pump primed, the adenosine drawn, and clear the entire west wing of non-essential personnel. If my daughter’s heart stops because your team isn't waiting at the bay, I will burn that hospital to the ground.""
""Ten minutes, Damian. Get her here in ten minutes.""
Clara watched Damian’s reflection in the glass. The ruthless, untouchable corporate titan was gone. In his place was a desperate father, his eyes bloodshot, veins bulging along his neck as he swerved through oncoming traffic at ninety miles per hour.
""She has your stubbornness,"" Clara whispered, her tears falling onto Daisy’s pale cheek. ""She wouldn't stop asking about you. Every year on her birthday, she made me tell the story of the man who gave me the silver ring.""
Damian didn't look back, but his jaw tightened until muscle twitched beneath his skin. ""Why didn't you come to my office, Clara? Why work through a third-party catering agency?""
""Because your mother showed me the signed contract,"" Clara said bitterly. ""She showed me an agreement where you traded custody of an unborn child for the European shipping shares. Your signature was on every page.""
Damian slammed his palm against the steering wheel. ""A forgery. Julian had power of attorney during my coma after the yacht accident five years ago.""
May you like
Clara’s heart stopped. ""Coma?""
Before Damian could answer, the dashboard radar chirped. Two black SUVs without license plates were gaining on them rapidly from the highway ramp behind, their high beams flashing like predators closing in on a kill.
