Chapter 9

Emma walked out of the Chaney Building. The freezing rain had turned into a nasty mix of sleet and snow, biting at her exposed skin.

She walked aimlessly down Fifth Avenue, her mind racing, trying to figure out how to secure emergency bridge funding for Diego.

Suddenly, tires screeched against the wet pavement. Two black Escalades swerved sharply, pinning her against the edge of the sidewalk.

Before she could react, four massive men in black suits jumped out. They grabbed her arms.

"Let go of me!" Emma screamed, thrashing wildly.

They ignored her, shoving her brutally into the back seat of the SUV. The doors locked with a heavy clunk.

Twenty minutes later, the SUV slammed on its brakes at the VIP emergency entrance of New York-Presbyterian Hospital.

Emma was dragged out of the car and pulled down a sterile, brightly lit corridor that reeked of bleach and iodine.

They stopped outside a trauma room. Denton was pacing the hall. His white dress shirt was wrinkled, the sleeves rolled up past his forearms, and a dark smear of blood stained the fabric near his ribs. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair disheveled from running his hands through it repeatedly.

When he saw Emma, he lunged forward, grabbing her shoulders so hard his fingers bruised her skin.

"Beverly was in a crash on her way back from a follow-up neurological appointment downtown," Denton yelled, his voice cracking with panic. "She's hemorrhaging. She needs blood."

He shook her. "She's Rh-negative AB. The bank is empty. You have the same blood type."

Denton turned to the hovering nurse. "Draw her blood. Now."

The word "draw" triggered a massive alarm in Emma's brain. Taking a large volume of blood during the first trimester would cause a severe drop in blood pressure and almost certainly trigger a miscarriage.

She scrambled backward, wrapping both arms protectively around her stomach. "No! I can't! You can't do this!"

Denton's face contorted with pure, unadulterated disgust. He viewed her refusal as the ultimate act of cold-blooded cruelty.

"You would let your own sister bleed to death just to secure your inheritance?" he sneered, his voice dripping with venom.

"My body can't handle it, Denton, please!" Emma sobbed, shaking her head, unable to say the word pregnant.

Denton didn't give her another second. He flicked his hand at the bodyguards.

The two massive men stepped forward. They grabbed Emma by the shoulders and forced her down into the heavy leather phlebotomy chair, pinning her arms to the armrests.

Emma fought like a wild animal. She kicked, she thrashed, she even sank her teeth into one of the guard's hands until she tasted blood.

Denton stepped close, grabbing her chin, forcing her to look at him. "If she dies, Emma, I will bury you with her."

The nurse approached, her hands shaking as she held a thick-gauge needle.

Emma stared at the needle, tears streaming down her face. "Denton, please, I'm begging you..."

Denton looked away. "Draw it. Take as much as she needs."

The needle pierced Emma's vein. Dark red blood rushed up the tube, filling the plastic bag rapidly.

Within minutes, a deep, pulling cramp started low in Emma's abdomen. A warning sign.

Her face turned the color of ash. Cold sweat soaked through her shirt, sticking to her spine. Her vision began to blur at the edges.

She watched the bags fill. To keep herself from passing out and losing the baby, she bit down on her lower lip so hard that blood trickled down her chin.

After drawing nearly 500 milliliters, the nurse pulled back, terrified. "Mr. Chaney, this is against all medical protocols! I can give one unit, but any more could be fatal! She's going into hypovolemic shock."