Chapter 6 - The Golden Cage Opens“Claire!”
Edward lunged across the small room, dropping to his knees beside the mattress. The expensive fabric of his trousers soaked instantly in the damp, grimy floorboards, but he didn’t care. He pressed two fingers against Claire’s neck. Her pulse was thunderingly fast, yet terrifyingly weak—fluttering like a trapped moth.
“Maya,” Edward commanded, his voice sharp with the absolute authority of a billionaire commander, though his hands shook uncontrollably. “Get my phone out of my coat pocket. Dial 911. Tell them Edward Blake needs a private medical transport unit dispatched to 4th and Elm immediately. Tell them if they send a standard ambulance, I’ll buy their hospital and fire every board member before sunset!”
Maya, crying silently now, scrambled back out to the hallway where Edward had dropped his coat, her tiny fingers digging into the pockets until she found the heavy smartphone.
Edward ripped off his expensive charcoal coat and rolled it into a makeshift pillow, carefully sliding it under Claire’s head to elevate her away from the cold floor. He stripped off his silk tie and pressed it firmly against the wound on her temple where she must have struck her head when she collapsed earlier that day.
“Hold on, sweetheart,” Edward groaned, pressing his forehead against Claire’s ice-cold hand. “I’m here. Your old man is finally here. Don’t you dare close your eyes on me.”
Within minutes, the sirens wailed outside. But these weren't standard city sirens—Edward’s private medical emergency network, mobilized instantly through his corporate security chief, had overridden local dispatches. Elite paramedics in sterile white jackets kicked through the already broken doorway, brandishing state-of-the-art trauma kits, oxygen tanks, and portable monitors.
“Mr. Blake!” the lead paramedic shouted, recognizing the billionaire instantly. “We’ve got her. Severe pneumonia, advanced exhaustion, and a concussion from the fall. Her blood pressure is bottoming out.”
“Get her into the helicopter on the roof of St. Jude’s,” Edward roared, rising to his full height as he swept Maya up into his arms once again. “If she doesn’t have the best doctors in the state within twenty minutes, none of you will ever practice medicine again!”
As the paramedics loaded Claire onto a high-tech gurney and rushed her out into the pouring rain, Edward held Maya tightly against his chest. The little girl buried her face in his neck, sobbing softly.
“Is Mommy going to go to heaven, Grandpa?” Maya whispered against his skin.
May you like
Edward kissed her wet curls, his jaw set in a grim, unbreakable line.
“No, Maya,” Edward whispered fiercely into the stormy night. “Your mother is coming home. And so are you.”
