Chapter 2 - The Father’s Name
The doctor’s question silenced the entire hallway.
“Which one of you is the baby’s father?”
Madison turned toward me so slowly that I could see the horror forming behind her eyes.
The people in the waiting room stared. Jonas stood several feet behind me, his expression unreadable, while the rest of my security team remained near the elevators.
I stepped forward.
“I am.”
The doctor glanced down at the tablet in his hand.
“Your name?”
“Damian Ashford.”
His fingers stopped moving.
Recognition flickered across his face. In Chicago, my name appeared on hospitals, redevelopment projects, campaign donations, and whispers that never made it into newspapers.
But none of that mattered now.
The doctor lowered his voice.
“Mr. Ashford, the patient is critically ill. Her heart is failing under the strain of the pregnancy. We need to perform an emergency cesarean section.”
“Then do it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“The baby is premature, but viable. However, Mrs. Ashford’s condition has deteriorated rapidly. She may not survive the operation.”
The words struck harder than a bullet.
Behind me, Madison released a broken laugh.
“Mrs. Ashford?”
The doctor looked confused.
“Her file lists Elena Ashford.”
“Our divorce was finalized eight months ago,” I said.
“That may be true legally, but she never changed the name on her medical records.”
Madison grabbed my arm.
“You told him you’re the father without even knowing.”
I pulled away from her.
“I know.”
“How?”
I looked at the emergency doors behind the doctor.
Because I remembered the final night of my marriage.
Elena standing barefoot beside the windows of our penthouse while rain streaked the glass. Her wedding ring resting on the table between us. Both of us pretending hatred was easier than admitting how deeply we had failed each other.
That night had been our last act of love and our worst act of weakness.
The dates matched.
The doctor stepped closer.
“We also need to know whether Mrs. Ashford has any history of cardiac disease.”
“No.”
“You’re certain?”
“She had yearly examinations. I paid for the best physicians in the city.”
“Any medications? Recent infections? Exposure to toxins?”
My attention sharpened.
“Toxins?”
“We found irregularities in her bloodwork. It may be nothing more than complications associated with heart failure, but some results are unusual.”
Before I could ask what he meant, a nurse pushed through the doors.
“Dr. Mercer, we’re losing the fetal heart rate.”
The doctor turned immediately.
“Prepare the operating room.”
He looked back at me.
“I need authorization to operate if the patient becomes unconscious. You’re not legally her spouse anymore, but you may be the closest available family member.”
“I’ll sign anything.”
A clipboard appeared in my hands.
The form contained paragraphs about hemorrhage, cardiac arrest, organ failure, permanent disability, and death.
I signed without reading another word.
The nurse took the clipboard and hurried away.
Madison watched me as though she had never seen me before.
“You just accepted responsibility for another woman and her child.”
“Elena is dying.”
“And what am I supposed to be?”
I turned toward her.
“You’re supposed to understand that this is not about you.”
Her face hardened.
“Everything has been about her since the moment we met.”
I stared at her.
“What are you talking about?”
“You say her name in your sleep. You kept her photograph in the locked drawer of your desk. You still wear the watch she gave you.”
Madison’s voice cracked, but the pain in it was quickly replaced by anger.
“You never left your marriage, Damian. You just moved another woman into the empty space.”
Before I could respond, the operating room doors closed and a red light switched on above them.
Elena was somewhere beyond those doors, surrounded by strangers, fighting to protect a child she had hidden from me.
A child that might never take a breath.
Jonas approached quietly.
“Boss, we should move Miss Chen to another area.”
Madison recoiled.
“Don’t speak about me like I’m a problem.”
“No one said you were,” Jonas replied.
“You didn’t have to.”
She reached into her handbag and pulled out her car keys.
“Take me home, Damian.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Her lips parted.
For the first time since I had met her, Madison looked less spoiled than frightened.
“You’re choosing her.”
“There is no choice to make tonight.”
Something cold entered her expression.
“You’ll regret saying that.”
She turned and walked toward the elevators.
Jonas watched her leave.
“Should I have someone follow her?”
I almost said no.
Madison was angry and humiliated, but she had never been dangerous.
At least, that was what I believed then.
“Send Caleb,” I said. “Keep it discreet.”
Jonas nodded and walked away to make the call.
I sat alone beneath the red operating light.
Minutes crawled past.
Then half an hour.
Then forty-five minutes.
Every scream, every rolling cart, every ringing telephone became a threat.
At 12:09 a.m., the operating room doors finally opened.
Dr. Mercer emerged wearing fresh gloves and a surgical mask hanging beneath his chin. Exhaustion lined his face.
I stood so quickly that the chair nearly overturned.
“The baby?”
“A boy.”
My knees almost gave way.
“Is he alive?”
“He’s alive, but he’s in severe respiratory distress. The neonatal team has placed him on a ventilator.”
“And Elena?”
The doctor hesitated.
That hesitation told me more than words could.
“She suffered cardiac arrest during the procedure.”
The hallway tilted.
“For how long?”
“Almost four minutes. We restored circulation, but she remains unstable. We’re transferring her to intensive care.”
“Is she conscious?”
“No.”
“Will she wake up?”
“We don’t know.”
I stared through the glass panel in the doors.
A group of nurses moved around a small incubator. For one brief second, I saw a tiny hand through the clear plastic.
My son.
Before I could move closer, Jonas returned.
His face had changed.
He held a phone in one hand and a small transparent evidence bag in the other.
Inside the bag was a silver medical vial.
“Where did you get that?” I asked.
“Caleb found it beneath the passenger seat of Madison’s car.”
My blood turned cold.
A white pharmacy label had been partially torn away, but one name remained visible.
Elena Ashford.
Jonas lowered his voice.
“There’s something else, Boss.”
He turned the vial.
Printed beneath Elena’s name were the words:
DIGOXIN — HIGH TOXICITY RISK.
May you like
And suddenly the doctor’s question about toxins no longer sounded routine.
It sounded like a warning.
