The surgical waiting room at Texas Health Presbyterian was quiet, lit only by fluorescent overhead lights[cite: 1]. Brandon paced back and forth across the linoleum floor, his hands buried in his pockets, his dark shirt stained with Chloe's blood from the staircase floor[cite: 1]. The door swung open, and Dr. Harrison stepped out, pulling off his surgical mask[cite: 1].
Brandon: Doctor! How is she?! How's my baby?!
Dr. Harrison: Take a seat, Mr. Sterling. Take a deep breath.
Brandon: I can't sit! Just tell me if they're alive!
Dr. Harrison: They are alive. We performed an emergency C-section forty minutes ago. Your wife had severe internal bruising, but she is stable in recovery. And you have a healthy baby boy, four pounds, eight ounces.
Brandon let out a shuddering breath, dropping his head into his hands as heavy tears spilled onto his knuckles[cite: 1].
Brandon: Thank God... thank God...
Dr. Harrison: He's currently in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Because he was born early, he'll need respiratory support for a couple of weeks, but his vitals are remarkably strong. Your wife is awake and asking for you.
Brandon: Can I see her?
Dr. Harrison: Room 402. Keep it brief, she needs rest.
Brandon walked quickly down the hall and pushed open the heavy wooden door of Room 402[cite: 1]. Chloe lay in the hospital bed, IV lines attached to her wrist, her pale face marked by small cuts from her fall[cite: 1]. She turned her head as Brandon entered, a weak, tearful smile appearing on her lips[cite: 1].
Chloe: Brandon...
Brandon: *Kneeling beside the bed* I'm right here, sweetie. I'm right here. You were so brave.
Chloe: Is our boy okay? Did you see him?
Brandon: He's perfect, Chloe. He looks just like you. Four pounds of pure strength. The doctors say he's going to make a full recovery.
Chloe: Victoria tried to kill him, Brandon... She whispered it to me before she pushed me.
Brandon froze, his body rigid as he stared down at his wife[cite: 1].
Brandon: What did she say to you at the top of the stairs?
Chloe: She said... she said if the child wasn't born, the trust fund money would automatically revert back to her line of the family. She said your father put a clause in the inheritance paperwork.
Brandon: A clause? What clause?
Chloe: She said if you didn't have a living biological heir by your thirty-fifth birthday next month, her trust company would assume fifty percent control of Sterling Global Logistics.
Brandon stood up slowly, his jaw set in a tight, angry line as pieces of a forgotten puzzle clicked together in his mind[cite: 1].
Brandon: That's why she was so desperate for us to get divorced last year... That's why she brought her private attorney to the house last week.
Chloe: She knew I was due in October. She knew if the baby was born healthy after your birthday, her claim to the company shares would be erased forever.
Brandon: She didn't push you out of anger, Chloe. She pushed you for two hundred million dollars.
Before Chloe could answer, the door to the room opened, and Detective Vance from the Dallas Police Department walked inside, holding a notepad and a thick legal file[cite: 1].
Detective Vance: Mr. Sterling? Mrs. Sterling? I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to talk about what we just found at your mansion[cite: 1].