Chapter 8
Chapter 8: The Delivery Room Lockdown
I never got a chance to open Julian's envelope at the restaurant.
As my hand touched the paper, a sharp, white-hot pain ripped through my lower abdomen. My water broke right there on the pristine floor of the Four Seasons.
The next few hours were a blur of flashing lights, the sterile smell of the ambulance, and the calm, commanding voice of Dr. Salinas as I was rushed into the labor and delivery wing of the private hospital.
"You're doing great, Laura. Breathe," Dr. Salinas urged, her gloved hands ready. "The baby is healthy, but she’s coming fast."
Just as I gripped the handrails to push, a loud commotion erupted in the hallway outside my private room. The heavy wooden doors burst open.
Elena stood there, her face flushed with a mixture of rage and desperation, flanked by two hospital security guards who were trying to hold her back.
"She is a Blackwell!" Elena screamed, pointing a manicured finger at my stomach. "That child belongs to my family line! You cannot keep me out of this room! I have a court order filing for grandparent visitation rights!"
"Get her out of here!" Dr. Salinas roared, her medical team instantly forming a human wall between Elena and my bed.
"Laura!" Elena yelled as the guards finally tackled her backward into the hallway. "Diego is gone! He fled the city! You are all I have left! Let me see my grandchild!"
The doors slammed shut, locking out the noise of the dying Blackwell dynasty.
With one final, agonizing push, the room filled with the loudest, most beautiful sound I had ever heard. A sharp, piercing cry.
"It's a girl," Dr. Salinas whispered, her eyes softening as she placed the warm, crying bundle onto my chest.
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I looked down at her—her tiny fingers, her tuft of dark hair, her perfect, innocent face.
"Victoria," I whispered through my tears. "Your name is Victoria."
