Chapter 2 - The Cost of a Name
The silver-haired nurse looked up from her computer, her expression a practiced mask of clinical politeness. “How can I help you, sir?”
Cormack’s hands gripped the edge of the high counter. The marble felt like ice beneath his palms. “The woman who was just brought in through those doors. Brin Holloway. I need to know what’s happening.”
The nurse’s eyes narrowed slightly, taking in his tailored suit, his sharp jawline, and the suppressed violence radiating from him. “Are you family? I can’t release patient information to anyone who isn’t—”
“I’m the father.” The words tore out of his throat before he could stop them. They felt heavy. Dangerous. Real.
The nurse paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Sir, Miss Holloway is currently in emergency surgery. She presented with suspected Peripartum Cardiomyopathy—severe heart failure brought on by the pregnancy—and a placental abruption. They are performing an emergency C-section to save the baby, but her heart is failing.”
Cormack stopped breathing. The world tilted on its axis, the sterile white walls of the hospital blurring at the edges.
Heart failure. To save the baby.
Behind him, the sharp click-clack of high heels echoed down the corridor. Yara rounded the corner, her face flushed with indignation, closely followed by Royce, who looked deeply uncomfortable.
“Cormack!” Yara snapped, her voice echoing in the quiet maternity ward. “What kind of game are you playing? I have a ruptured ovarian cyst, according to the ER doc downstairs, and my boyfriend is up here chasing after some street trash on a stretcher?”
Cormack turned slowly. The look in his eyes was so cold, so entirely devoid of human empathy, that Yara took an involuntary step back.
“Royce,” Cormack said, his voice a low, terrifying rumble.
“Yes, boss.”
“Escort Miss Salcedo back to the ER. Make sure she gets the best care available. Pay her bill. Then, put her in a car, send her back to her father’s estate, and tell her that if she ever refers to Brin Holloway as ‘street trash’ again, Aurelio Salcedo will be short one daughter.”
Yara’s mouth fell open. “You’re dumping me? My father will burn your docks to the ground for this, Cormack!”
“Let him try,” Cormack whispered. “Get her out of my sight.”
As Royce ushered a screaming Yara toward the elevators, Cormack turned back to the nurse, who was now staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. He pulled out a sleek black titanium card and slid it across the marble.
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“I don’t care what it costs,” Cormack said, his voice breaking. “Buy every machine, page every specialist in this state, and put them in that room. Do not let her die.”
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