She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22 The Hemorrhage

(Mason)

Pacing back and forth, I check my watch for the hundredth time.

Three hours have passed since I carried Natasha through the emergency doors.

Gloria sits rigidly in a plastic chair nearby, staring at the double doors of the maternity ward, her hands tightly folded in her lap.

“They should have told us something by now,” Gloria says, her voice shaking.

“She was in so much pain.”

“Dr. Evans is with her,” I reply, trying to sound confident.

“He knows her medical history.”

Before I can say another word, the doors swing open and Dr. Evans walks out.

He looks completely exhausted and I can’t help but notice the blood on his sleeves.

A sudden rush of fear grips me.

“How is she?” I demand, rushing over to him.

Gloria jumps up and stands right beside me.

“The baby is a girl,” Dr. Evans announces quietly.

“She’s small, but she’s perfectly healthy.”

Relief washes over me for exactly one second before the doctor’s expression stops me.

He doesn’t look happy. He looks terrified.

“What’s wrong?” Gloria asks sharply.

“Natasha suffered a massive hemorrhage immediately after the delivery,” Dr. Evans explains.

His voice drops to a low whisper.

“The stress and the early labor put too much strain on her body. She lost a lot of blood.”

“Is she awake?” I ask, my chest tightening with panic.

“Can we see her?”

The doctor shakes his head slowly.

“She never even had a chance to hold her daughter,” he says sadly.

“We managed to stop the bleeding, but Natasha slipped into a coma. She’s in the intensive care unit right now. Her condition is extremely critical.”

Hearing those words leaves me completely speechless.

Natasha fought so hard to protect this baby, and now she’s fighting for her own life.

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“I called her parents,” Gloria tells me, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“They’re already on a flight back to Los Angeles. They’ll be here in a few hours.”

When Natasha’s adoptive parents finally rush through the hospital doors, they look frantic.

Mr. Kelly supports his wife as she cries openly in the hallway.

“Where is she?” Mrs. Kelly begs, grabbing my arm.

“Where is my daughter?”

“She’s still in the ICU,” I tell them gently.

“The doctors are monitoring her brain activity. But the baby is in the nursery. Do you want to see your granddaughter?”

They nod eagerly. Seeing the baby will give them some hope.

Leading them down the long, quiet hallway to the neonatal nursery, I prepare myself to see the little girl.

We stop in front of the large glass window.

Several tiny babies are sleeping peacefully in their clear plastic cribs.

Scanning the room, I look for the name card reading Kelly.

It isn’t there.

A nurse walks past us, carrying a clipboard.

“Excuse me,” I say, stopping her.

“We’re here to see Natasha Kelly’s baby. Where is she?”

The nurse looks down at her clipboard and frowns.

She shifts uncomfortably on her feet.

“The Warren baby was discharged an hour ago,” the nurse answers nervously.

“Discharged?” Mr. Kelly yells, his face turning red.

“That’s impossible! The mother is in a coma upstairs. Who discharges a premature baby?”

“The father,” the nurse replies, taking a step back from us.

“Mr. Chase Warren and his mother arrived with a private medical transport team. He signed all the paperwork and took the baby home.” 1

Total silence falls over the hallway.

“He took the baby?” Gloria whispers in absolute disbelief.

“Natasha is bleeding out in a hospital bed, and he simply swoops in and steals her child?”

“He has the legal right,” the nurse stammers, looking very intimidated by our anger.

“The hospital administrator approved it. Eleanor Warren hired a top pediatrician to oversee the transport. We had no reason to stop them.”

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Deep anger fills my chest.

Chase Warren didn’t even bother to check on his dying wife.

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