Chapter 10 - The Arrival of the White Coats
The heavy front doors of the mansion were thrown open with a resounding bang.
A team of four private medical technicians, dressed in dark blue tactical medical uniforms, rushed into the foyer carrying heavy red trauma bags and a folding mobile stretcher. They were led by Dr. Harrison—a sleek, sharp-featured man in his late fifties with cold blue eyes and a posture that screamed high-priced discretion.
Dr. Harrison was not an emergency room physician; he was the Blackwood family’s private chief medical officer, paid a quarter of a million dollars a year to handle the family’s medical needs away from public records, hospital logs, and media scrutiny.
"Mr. Blackwood!" Dr. Harrison called out, rushing into the living room, his gloved hands instantly unfolding a sterile field kit. "Where is she?"
"Here!" Marcus stood up, his black tuxedo soaked in blood, his face pale and frantic. "Her water broke... there's massive hemorrhaging! Get her stabilized!"
The paramedics moved with practiced, terrifying speed. Within seconds, Elena was surrounded by blue uniforms. An oxygen mask was strapped over her nose and mouth, cold sticky EKG pads were slapped onto her chest, and an IV line was thrust violently into the vein of her right arm.
"Blood pressure is seventy over forty and dropping!" a paramedic called out, monitoring the portable screen. "Fetal heart rate is dangerously low—eighty beats per minute! She’s in placental abruption!"
Dr. Harrison pressed a portable ultrasound transducer onto Elena’s bare, blood-streaked abdomen. His sharp face darkened as he stared at the small, grainy black-and-white screen of his handheld monitor.
"We don't have time to get her to the hospital," Dr. Harrison said, his voice dropping into a tense, urgent tone. "The placenta has detached completely from the uterine wall. The baby is suffocating. If we don't perform an emergency Cesarean section right now, on this table, you'll lose them both in five minutes."
Marcus grabbed Harrison’s collar, his knuckles turning white. "Do whatever it takes! Do you hear me? Save my son!"
"Get the portable surgical kit!" Harrison barked to his team. "Clear that dining table! Set up the field lights!"
"No!" Victoria’s voice suddenly cut through the room like a screeching tire.
She stepped out from the archway, her face pale, her torn red velvet gown rustling violently as she rushed into the living room.
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"You can't do a surgery here!" Victoria screamed, looking at Dr. Harrison with wide, panic-stricken eyes. "The dining room is a crime scene! She attacked me! We have to wait for the police!"
Marcus turned toward Victoria, his eyes widening with a sudden, horrifying disgust.
