Chapter 3 - The Line Between Life and Death
Not a single wealthy guest reached into their pocket to dial emergency services.
They stood frozen in their silk tuxedos and designer dresses, terrified of Victoria Hart’s legal and financial wrath.
Elena’s head fell limp against Noah’s shoulder, her breathing shallow, erratic, and wet.
"Noah... keep our little girl safe..." Elena whispered, her eyelids fluttering as darkness threatened to pull her under.
"Stay with me, Elena, look at my eyes," Noah begged, pressing his forehead against hers while kneeling on the marble.
Underneath the collapsed mountain of sugar and silver tiers, Victoria pushed herself upright with a demonic snarl.
Her emerald gown was torn at the seam, sticky red raspberry filling running down her neck like imitation blood.
"Anyone who dials their phone will be ruined by morning!" Victoria spat, wiping frosting from her venomous eyes.
She pointed a trembling, manicured finger at Noah and the bleeding woman in his arms.
"You brought this whore into my estate, and you dare touch me?" Victoria shrieked, her voice bouncing off the high vaulted ceiling.
Noah looked up, his gaze turning so cold and lethal that even Victoria took an involuntary step back into the cake wreckage.
"If my wife or my child dies tonight, Victoria, there is no corner of this earth where your money can hide you," Noah said quietly.
A young caterer at the edge of the hall, appalled by the cruelty of the guests, quietly pulled out his personal phone and hit send.
Siren wails cut through the night outside the villa’s wrought-iron gates, signaling that help had already been summoned minutes earlier.
Victoria’s private security detail finally poured into the ballroom through the side entrances, their hands on their holsters.
Six burly men in matching black suits formed a protective wall in front of the disheveled billionaire heiress.
"Take them out the back," Victoria barked, wiping cake off her diamond earrings. "Get rid of them before the police see this."
The lead guard advanced toward Noah, reaching inside his jacket to draw a heavy taser.
Noah shifted Elena into his left arm, his right hand gripping a broken leg from the collapsed gift table like a club.
"Take one step closer and find out how fast a shattered table leg moves," Noah warned, his athletic frame coiled like a spring.
The lead security officer hesitated, seeing the pure, unadulterated madness in Noah's protective stare.
Before the guard could decide whether to attack, the grand entrance doors were pushed open by two fully equipped paramedics.
Bright red and blue emergency lights flooded the ballroom through the open archway, reflecting violently off the gold-trimmed mirrors.
"Paramedics! Back up from the patient immediately!" the lead medic yelled, pushing a heavy trauma gurney across the marble.
Victoria stepped forward, her voice switching instantly from unhinged rage to smooth, icy authority.
"There is no emergency here, officers," Victoria announced loudly, straightening her ruined gown. "This woman simply tripped."
Noah stood up, carrying Elena’s limp body toward the gurney, blood dripping steadily from her hem onto the floor.
"She struck my pregnant wife in the head with a solid brass candlestick," Noah told the paramedics clearly.
The female paramedic gasped as she shone a penlight into Elena’s non-responsive, dilating pupils.
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"Severe blunt force trauma, active cranial hemorrhage, and uterine distress," the medic reported frantically into her shoulder radio.
"Load her now, we have less than ten minutes before both heartbeats drop!" the second paramedic yelled.
