Chapter 6 - The Emergency in the Hallway
Panic replaced the shock in the dimly lit study as Clara’s cries echoed through the grand hallway. Eleanor stared down at the pregnant maid on the floor, her own heartbreak instantly overshadowed by basic human instinct. Despite her hatred for Julian and the betrayal that had just shattered her marriage, Eleanor rushed past her husband, dropping to her knees beside Clara, ignoring the expensive fabric of her red dress as it touched the dusty floor.
“Clara, stay with me,” Eleanor urged, her voice firm yet laced with genuine concern as she grabbed Clara’s ice-cold, trembling hand. “Look at me, Clara. Breathe. Julian, stop standing there like a statue! Call an ambulance right now!”
Julian remained standing by the mahogany desk, his dark eyes locked on the two women with a cold, calculating detachment. He slowly reached into his suit jacket, but instead of pulling out his phone to dial emergency services, he withdrew a sleek, encrypted satellite communicator. He punched in a short code, speaking in a low, muffled voice that Eleanor couldn't fully decipher over Clara’s painful groans.
“Julian!” Eleanor screamed over her shoulder, her furious glare cutting through the dimness of the room. “Did you call the hospital? What are you doing with that phone? She is going into premature labor!”
Julian clicked the device off and slipped it back into his pocket, walking slowly toward them with heavy, deliberate steps.
“We aren't calling a public hospital, Eleanor,” Julian said calmly, looking down at Clara’s writhing form with clinical detachment. “If an ambulance comes here, the paramedics will file incident reports. The bruises on her face, the signs of distress—the police will be involved within the hour. And once the police start digging into this house, they won't just find a laboring maid; they’ll find the offshore accounts, Marcus’s blackmail, and my past connections.”
Eleanor stood up slowly, her height matching his as righteous anger surged through her veins, washing away her grief.
“You care more about your precious secrets than a human life?” Eleanor spat, her voice vibrating with intense disgust. “She is carrying your child, Julian! Your own blood is struggling to survive on this floor, and you are worried about police reports?”
Clara writhed in agony, her fingers digging deep into the Persian rug as another severe contraction tore through her body. The cut on her forehead had begun to bleed again, mingling with the cold sweat beading on her pale face.
“Please... Mrs. Vance... don't let him... don't let him take me away,” Clara whimpered, looking up at Eleanor with eyes full of absolute terror. “He has a private doctor... a man named Dr. Hayes... he doesn't take patients to hospitals. He makes people disappear.”
Eleanor’s blood ran cold. She stepped firmly between Julian and the suffering girl on the floor, her dazzling diamond necklace glinting dangerously under the hallway light.
“You touch her, Julian, and I swear to God I will burn every single asset you own to the ground,” Eleanor warned, her voice dead serious. “I am calling 911 myself right now.”
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Julian didn't flinch. He reached out with terrifying speed, snatching Eleanor’s diamond-encrusted smartphone right out of her hand before she could dial, tossing it across the room where it shattered against the marble wall into a dozen useless pieces.
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