The elevator doors opened just as Claire disappeared behind the operating-room doors.
Nathaniel Ward saw the blood on her cream maternity dress before the doors swung shut behind the medical team.
For one second he couldn’t move.
Then Amelia came toward him wearing surgical scrubs, her expression stripped of everything except urgency.
“Where is Damon?” Nathaniel asked.
“Still not here.”
Nathaniel looked toward the operating room.
“What do you need?”
“Right now? For you to stay out of the way.”
She started back through the doors, then stopped.
“And if Damon calls, tell him his wife went into surgery without him.”
The doors closed.
Nathaniel stood alone beneath the harsh hospital lights.
He had walked into boardrooms with governments waiting for his decision.
He had watched billions move because he signed his name.
None of it gave him any authority here.
So he sat.
Eleven minutes later, Damon’s name appeared on Claire’s phone where a nurse had placed it with her belongings.
The nurse looked at Nathaniel.
“Family?”
“No.”
That answer felt inadequate.
The phone stopped ringing.
A moment later it rang again.
The nurse answered and identified herself.
Nathaniel could hear Damon’s voice from several feet away.
“Has she delivered yet?”
The nurse’s expression hardened.
“Your wife is still in emergency surgery, Mr.
Westbrook.”
“I’m dealing with something important downtown.”
Nathaniel looked at the wall clock.
He had left the same event almost half an hour ago.
The nurse said, “Then I suggest you decide what important means.”
She ended the call.
Nathaniel said nothing.
But another piece of the evening settled into place.
Before Amelia called him, Nathaniel had seen Damon near the private corridor of the Fairmont with his executive assistant.
She had straightened his tie with a familiarity that had made Nathaniel look away.
Damon had touched her waist.
Not briefly.
Not accidentally.
Nathaniel had disliked Damon for years, but dislike was not proof.
So he kept the memory to himself.
Inside the operating room, Amelia and the team delivered the first twin.
The baby was frighteningly small.
Then came a cry.
Thin.
Furious.
Alive.
The second twin arrived moments later and needed immediate respiratory support before another fragile cry finally cut through the room.
Claire continued bleeding.
For the next hour, Amelia’s attention remained on saving the woman who had arrived nearly unconscious and alone.
Outside, Nathaniel paced once, stopped himself and sat again.
He did not call reporters.
He did not call Damon’s board.
