Chapter 5 - The Medical Crisis
The peace inside the Westchester estate lasted precisely forty-eight hours before Adrian’s body staged its ultimate rebellion.
It happened on a Thursday afternoon in the mansion’s sunlit conservatory. Adrian was sitting on a plush sofa, teaching Lily how to stack wooden building blocks into tall towers. Sarah was sitting nearby with a cup of coffee, watching them with a guarded, tentative sense of hope that had begun to bloom in her chest.
“Look, Daddy!” Lily squealed, placing a red block at the very top of a seven-story tower. “High tower!”
“Very high, sweetie,” Adrian smiled, reaching out to steady the base.
Suddenly, Adrian’s hand froze.
His eyes went wide, his pupils dilating to tiny pinpricks. A massive, crushing pressure—like an anvil dropped directly onto his sternum—paralyzed his chest. The color instantly drained from his face, leaving him a sickening chalky white.
“Adrian?” Sarah dropped her coffee mug. It shattered against the tile floor.
Adrian tried to speak, but only a wet, choked gasp escaped his throat. His vision blacked out instantly as his heart entered a lethal ventricular fibrillation—spinning at three hundred erratic beats per minute, pumping zero blood to his brain.
He collapsed sideways off the sofa, crashing onto the carpet, scattering the wooden blocks across the floor.
“Daddy!” Lily shrieked, scrambling back in terror.
“Vincent! Medical! Get in here now!” Sarah screamed at the top of her lungs, dropping to her knees beside Adrian, grabbing his shoulders, turning him onto his back.
His eyes were rolled back, his jaw slack, his chest completely still. No breath. No pulse.
The doors burst open, and Dr. Elena Maren—whom Adrian had transferred to the estate’s private medical wing the previous day—rushed into the room followed by two paramedics carrying a portable crash cart.
“Clear the room!” Dr. Maren barked, dropping her medical bag. “He’s in V-Fib! Charge to two hundred!”
“Mommy! Daddy!” Lily was screaming hysterically, her small arms flailing as Vincent swept her up off the floor, carrying her toward the door while using his own body to block her view of her father’s lifeless body.
“Get her out! Take her upstairs!” Sarah cried, though she refused to leave Adrian’s side, grabbing his ice-cold hand, tears blinding her vision. “Adrian! Don't you dare! Don't leave us!”
“Clear!” Dr. Maren shouted, slapping the defibrillator paddles onto Adrian’s bare chest.
THUMP!
Adrian’s body arched violently off the floor as two hundred joules of electricity surged through his heart. He slammed back down onto the rug. Still no rhythm. The EKG monitor emitted a solid, terrifying, continuous tone.
FLATLINE.
“Charging to three hundred!” Dr. Maren commanded, her face grim. “Push one milligram of epinephrine!”
“Adrian, please!” Sarah sobbed, pressing her forehead against his lifeless hand, her voice a desperate, heartbroken scream. “You promised! You promised you’d end this! You promised you wouldn't leave her!”
“Clear!”
THUMP!
A violent tremor shook Adrian’s frame. For three agonizing seconds, the monitor remained a flat, unbroken line.
Then...
Beep.
...
Beep.
...
Beep.
“Sinus rhythm restored!” the paramedic gasped, wiping sweat from his forehead. “BP is 80 over 50. He’s back!”
Dr. Maren let out a long breath, rapidly placing an oxygen mask over Adrian’s blue lips. “Get him to the surgical suite now. We aren't waiting for tomorrow. We are implanting the dual-chamber ICD today, or he won't survive the night.”
Sarah stood up on shaking legs, watching the medical team hoist Adrian’s limp, unconscious body onto a gurney and wheel him rapidly down the hall.
She stood in the quiet conservatory, looking down at the scattered wooden blocks, the shattered coffee mug, and the small yellow crayon Lily had dropped on the floor.
May you like
A cold, terrifying realization washed over her.
Dimitri Volkov wasn't the only killer hunting Adrian Moretti. His own body was a traitor. And if they didn't finish this war soon, there would be nothing left of Adrian to save.
