Chapter 2 - The Midnight Escape
"Open the door! This is the legal representation for Vanguard Health. We have a court-ordered custody mandate!"
The voice from the hallway was booming, arrogant, and entirely devoid of empathy. It was Julian Vance, Sterling's chief legal assassin.
Sylvie gasped, pulling the babies closer to her chest. The twins, sensing the sudden spike of adrenaline in the room, began to cry. Their thin, fragile wails pierced my heart, fueling a primal rage I had never felt before in my life.
"Dr. Mercer, the service elevator," I repeated, my voice a low rumble. "Now."
Dr. Mercer didn't hesitate. Despite the risk to her career, she stepped toward a disguised wood-paneled door at the back of the room—a laundry chute and service access point used for VIP patients who required absolute privacy.
"This leads to the basement laundry facility," Dr. Mercer whispered rapidly, sliding a keycard through the reader. "There is a delivery dock at the back. It bypasses the main lobby security entirely."
"Thank you," I said, looking her in the eye. "You will be compensated for this. Your hospital will not suffer."
"Just get those babies out of here, Mr. Vexley," she said, her voice shaking. "No child belongs in a corporate lab."
I turned to Sylvie. "Can you walk?"
She tried to swing her legs over the edge of the bed, but she winced, her face turning white. The physical toll of labor, combined with the sheer terror of the situation, had left her weak.
Without a second thought, I scooped her up into my arms, holding her close. She gasped, her hands clutching the babies tightly against her chest as I lifted them all. She felt so light, so fragile, a stark contrast to the fierce, independent woman who had fought me so bitterly in the courtroom just seven months ago.
"Hold on to me," I muttered.
"Damon... I'm sorry," she whispered into my neck, her breath warm against my cold skin. "I should have told you. I was just so angry, so hurt..."
"We talk about that later," I said, stepping through the service door just as a heavy thud echoed behind us—the sound of Vanguard's security attempting to breach the main door of Room 203.
We plunged into the dimly lit, sterile concrete hallways of the hospital's underbelly. The scent of bleach and industrial detergent filled the air. Every footstep echoed like a gunshot. I walked as fast as I could, my muscles straining under the weight, but my focus was laser-sharp.
Left. Right. Down the ramp.
As we neared the delivery dock, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I clicked the earpiece. "Marcus, report."
"Sir, we’ve secured the loading dock, but Vanguard's security team realized you bypassed the lobby. They are flooding the perimeter. We have about two minutes before they cut off our exit route."
"I'm at the dock doors now," I said, kicking open the double metal doors.
The cool, wet night air hit us instantly. Rain poured down in sheets, creating a blurry veil over the city. Waiting in the bay was a massive, black armored SUV, its engine idling with a low, powerful growl. Marcus stood by the rear door, an umbrella held high, his hand resting near his jacket where his holster was concealed.
"Get them in!" Marcus yelled over the roaring wind.
I carefully slide Sylvie into the leather backseat. She was shivering, her teeth chattering as she looked around like a hunted animal. I climbed in right after her, slamming the heavy door shut. The thick, bulletproof glass instantly silenced the storm outside.
"Drive," I ordered.
The SUV screeched out of the loading dock, tires gripping the wet asphalt. Just as we cleared the gate, two black sedans swerved into the alleyway, attempting to block our path.
"Marcus, ram them," I said calmly.
"With pleasure, sir."
The armored SUV collided with the lead sedan with a sickening crunch of metal. The lighter car was pushed violently aside, spinning out onto the wet Manhattan street as we sped past, disappearing into the neon-lit, rain-soaked night.
I took a deep breath, turning to look at Sylvie. She was staring at me, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and relief. But the relief was short-lived.
"They won't stop, Damon," she whispered, her voice trembling as she looked down at the sleeping twins. "Victor Sterling doesn't lose. He has the contract. He has the law on his side. He will call the police. He will brand us as kidnappers."
May you like
"Let him try," I said, reaching out to gently touch the soft cheek of my daughter. "He might have the law, but I have the resources to rewrite it. We are going to my estate in upstate New York. It's fully secured. No one gets in without my permission."
As the city lights faded into the dark highway, I realized this wasn't just a battle for my company anymore. It was a war for my family. And for the first time in my life, I had something I was truly afraid to lose.
