Chapter 2 - The Emergency Trauma Unit
Within forty seconds, two high-level private trauma medics rushed through the ruined doorway carrying a specialized stretcher and portable diagnostic gear. They didn't ask questions; they moved with military precision, hooking me up to monitors and placing an oxygen mask over my face.
"Fetal heart rate is dangerously elevated, Colonel Vance," the lead medic called out, applying a portable ultrasound probe to my stomach. "We have internal trauma in the abdominal wall. She needs immediate emergency stabilization at St. Jude’s Private Hospital!"
Gabriel stood up, his suit jacket stained with my blood. He turned back to face Victor’s family.
Raul stepped forward, trying to use his booming voice to regain control. "Listen to me, Vance! This is a private marital dispute! You have no right to enter my son’s home, assault him, and—"
Gabriel didn't say a word. He stepped up to Raul, looked down into the older man’s terrified face, and delivered a devastating, sharp blow directly to Raul’s solar plexus. Raul collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest, wheezing for air.
"Raul," Gabriel said, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "Ten years ago, I allowed my sister to marry your pathetic son because she begged me to let her live a quiet, normal life away from the Vance family name. I swore to stay out of her affairs."
He reached down, picked up the heavy wooden cane Victor had used on me, and snapped it over his knee like a dry twig.
"That oath ended the second you let your son raise a weapon against my blood," Gabriel said, tossing the broken pieces of wood onto Helena’s lap. Helena screamed, shrinking back against the wall.
Gabriel looked at Nora, who was cowering near the refrigerator. He picked up her phone from the floor, pulled out the memory card, and slid it into his pocket.
"My team is taking every server, every camera, and every recording in this house," Gabriel declared. "By dawn, your bank accounts will be frozen. Your business licenses will be revoked. And every crime your pathetic family has committed over the last twenty years will be laid bare before the federal prosecutor’s office."
He turned back to the medics. "Move her to the transport! Now!"
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As I was wheeled out on the stretcher into the cool, crisp morning air, I saw six black armored SUVs parked on the lawn, along with two private ambulances.
Victor was lying on the kitchen floor, clutching his throat, staring at me with a look of pure, paralyzing horror. He had finally realized that the quiet, submissive woman he had abused for three years wasn't a helpless orphan—she was the protected princess of an unstoppable empire.
