Chapter 2 - Whispers in the Ambulance
The rhythmic beep of the cardiac monitor filled the claustrophobic space of the speeding ambulance. I lay strapped to the spinal board, my head bandaged tightly to stem the bleeding. Daniel sat beside the gurney, holding my hand with a grip that felt less like comfort and more like a shackle.
"She’s stabilizing, vitals look normal," the paramedic shouted to the driver over the wail of the siren.
Daniel leaned down, pressing his lips close to my ear while the medical crew looked away to check an IV bag. His voice was a venomous hiss. "Don't try anything clever, Elena. The doctors already think you had a psychotic break from stress. One word about us, and we lock you away in a psychiatric ward before sunrise."
I blinked slowly, feigning disorientation. "D... Daniel?" I murmured, letting my voice crack with artificial weakness.
"Shh, honey, save your strength," he replied, instantly shifting into the devoted, caring husband for the benefit of the paramedic. "You fell. You hit your head on the fireplace after drinking too much. Everything is going to be fine."
"My head... hurts," I murmured.
"Of course it does, you took a terrible tumble," Vanessa chimed in from the front jump seat, having hitched a ride in the ambulance under the guise of an inseparable sister. "We're going to take such good care of you."
Inside my hospital gown, my fingers twitched against the cotton fabric. My mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour. Marcus Hale had the recording. I knew that. But what would Marcus do with it? Marcus wasn't just a security director; he was a former federal cyber-crimes investigator who operated with ruthless efficiency. If he heard Daniel and Vanessa plotting to steal my company and incapacitate me, he wouldn't just call the police—he would lay a trap.
When the ambulance reversed into the emergency bay of St. Jude Memorial Hospital, blinding fluorescent lights assaulted my eyes. Orderlies swarmed the gurney, wheeling me through the automated doors into trauma bay three.
"We need a CT scan of the brain immediately, prep for neurological evaluation," an attending physician ordered briskly.
Daniel tried to follow us past the swinging double doors, but a nurse blocked his path. "Family must wait in the waiting room, sir."
"I'm her husband! Her business partner!" Daniel protested, putting on a masterful display of righteous indignation.
May you like
"Hospital policy, Mr. Vance. Please wait outside."
As the doors swung shut, I caught a final glimpse of Daniel and Vanessa exchanging a conspiratorial nod. They thought they had time. They believed the legal documents were already moving through their corrupt attorney's office. But they had no idea that Marcus Hale was already awake, listening to the crystal award's transmission on his encrypted laptop, and dialing a private number that would make their carefully laid plans crumble into dust.
