Chapter 142: Her Silence, My Storm [I]
The VIP wing of St. Lambert’s was built like a private estate—complete with imported Italian marble, privacy-screened glass walls, and a trauma team so elite their scrub caps had embroidered initials. None of that mattered. Not now.
I barged through the emergency doors with Isabella in my arms, and within thirty seconds, six people in navy uniforms were swarming.
"Orchid Suite One. Move."
"Clear it—everyone out. Cardiac and neuro. I want both teams ready."
"Get Kassel. Now."
No one questioned me.
They parted like water as I strode through.
Orchid Suite One was the best in the hospital. Top floor. Built for heads of state. But I didn’t care about its penthouse view or imported linens. Only that it had the best monitoring systems in the country. That the walls were soundproofed. That I could shut the world out.
I laid Isabella down on the precision-adjusted smart bed. Nurses moved fast, one applying oxygen, another hooking in the IV, another checking vitals. Her pulse still fluttered weakly under her wrist. Her breathing was shallow, but steady.
"Adrien," Dr. Kassel said as she entered, now fully suited up. "We’ll handle this. But I need five minutes. Let us stabilize her."
I stood back, jaw clenched, watching every wire, every beep, every flicker of movement from the screen above her head.