The flashing red lights of the emergency response vehicles cast long shadows across the entrance of Dallas Memorial Hospital. Paramedics rushed Cora through the double glass doors on a gurney, running fast while shouting medical statistics back and forth to the trauma team waiting inside. Arthur ran alongside the gurney, holding Cora's cold hand with both of his hands, refusing to let go until the double doors swung shut in his face.
The waiting area was dead silent except for the low hum of the fluorescent overhead lighting and the distant sound of medical monitors. Arthur paced back and forth across the vinyl floor, his gray hair messy and his suit coat covered in dust and faint crimson stains from the marble stairs. His mind raced back through the last five years, trying to understand how his family had fractured so terribly.
After his first wife passed away, Victoria had grown increasingly bitter and focused on the family fortune. The Sterling real estate empire was worth tens of millions of dollars, including commercial buildings in downtown Dallas and private ranches in North Texas. When Arthur married Cora, a kind-hearted former high school teacher, Victoria assumed her inheritance was under direct threat, believing every dollar given to Cora was stolen from her rightful legacy.
The heavy doors of the surgical wing opened, and a tired-looking doctor stepped out into the waiting room, pulling off his surgical mask. Arthur sprinted toward him immediately, his heart pounding in his chest like a sledgehammer.
Arthur: Doctor! How is my wife? How is my son?
Doctor: Mr. Sterling, your wife suffered severe internal bruising and minor concussions, but she is stable. The baby was under extreme distress, and we had to perform an emergency procedure to save his life.
Arthur: Is he alive? Please tell me he's alive!
Doctor: He is in the neonatal intensive care unit right now. He is small, but he is a fighter. They are both going to make it through tonight.
Arthur sank down into a plastic chair, dropping his head into his hands as heavy tears of relief overflowed down his face. He whispered a quiet prayer of thanks to the sky, feeling a massive weight lift off his chest. But within seconds, that relief transformed into a cold, sharp focus that hardened his heart completely.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his head of legal security, David Vance. David was a former federal prosecutor who had handled high-profile corporate crimes across the state of Texas for over twenty years.
David: Arthur? I heard what happened at the courthouse. Is Cora okay?
Arthur: She survived, David. But Victoria tried to murder my wife and my unborn child today on those stairs.
David: What do you want me to do, boss?
Arthur: I want every financial account, every trust fund, and every asset tied to Victoria frozen by midnight. Call the District Attorney. I want felony assault charges filed immediately, and I want the full security footage from the marble hall preserved on a secure drive.
David: Understood. But Arthur, Victoria hired Richard Hayes as her defense counsel twenty minutes ago. He's already calling media outlets to spin this as an accidental stumble.
Arthur: Let him try. Hayes has no idea what evidence I've been hiding in my office safe for the last three months.