Chapter 4: Emergency Rush to St. Jude’s Memorial
The chaotic flurry of emergency responders breaching the Plaza Continental lobby transformed the opulent atmosphere into an arena of urgent, life-saving triage. Two paramedics in high-visibility neon jackets rushed through the glass doors, wheeling a heavy-duty gurney straight toward the spot where Clara lay.
Nathan dropped his corporate demeanor entirely, his focus zeroed in on his wife. He helped the paramedics lift Clara onto the gurney, his hands gentle yet trembling with residual adrenaline. The silky red velvet maternity dress was damp with cold sweat, and Clara’s face was deathly pale.
“Stay with me, baby, look at me,” Nathan pleaded, his voice breaking as he gripped her hand tightly. “The ambulance is right here. We’re going to St. Jude’s Memorial. You’re going to be fine. Our baby is going to be fine.”
Clara gave a weak, breathless nod, her dark brown eyes swimming with unshed tears. As the paramedics locked the gurney wheels and wheeled her swiftly toward the exit, Nathan turned back to face the lobby.
Victoria was attempting to slip backward into the crowd of stunned gala guests, her emerald green dress standing out like a beacon of guilt. But before she could take two steps, the Chief of Security and two federal marshals who had accompanied the emergency medical team stepped into her path, blocking all avenues of escape.
“Victoria Hayes, you are being detained under suspicion of corporate espionage, conspiracy to commit assault, and attempted endangerment of a minor,” the lead marshal announced, snapping cold steel handcuffs around her wrists with a sharp, echoing snap.
Victoria shrieked, thrashing against the restraint, her pristine makeup smudging as real, terrified tears finally broke through. “You can’t do this to me! Do you know who my father is?! I demand my lawyer!”
“Your father’s corporate accounts were frozen ten minutes ago under federal emergency orders,” Nathan said coldly, walking past her toward the exit without breaking his stride. He paused for a fraction of a second, not even turning his head to look at her. “Enjoy your stay holding cell number four. You’re going to need every bit of that fake innocence when you face a federal judge.”
Within minutes, Nathan was seated in the back of a speeding police escort vehicle trailing the ambulance through the rain-slicked streets of Chicago. The sirens wailed a piercing, mournful tune against the dark sky, cutting through traffic as they raced toward St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital—an elite American medical facility renowned for its state-of-the-art perinatal care unit.
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Inside the sterile, brightly lit back of the ambulance, the lead paramedic monitored Clara’s vital signs on a blinking heart-rate monitor. The steady beep-beep-beep was the only sound keeping Nathan anchored to reality. He clutched his phone in his free hand, his thumb moving across the screen with lethal, calculated speed. He wasn't just a grieving, panicked husband anymore; he was a wounded titan preparing to unleash a devastating counter-offensive against every single rat that had tried to sink his ship.
With three rapid text messages sent to his private legal counsel and the director of forensic auditing at his firm, Nathan initiated Operation Clean Slate. The corporate saboteurs on his board who had colluded with Victoria were about to receive a rude awakening before the sun rose over Lake Michigan.
