Chapter 2 - The Hesitation|
The operating-room doors closed at 9:17 p.m., leaving Dominic marooned under the harsh fluorescent hallway lights.
Celeste lasted eleven minutes before approaching him.
"You didn’t know," she whispered, her voice laced with carefully disguised anxiety. "Did you?"
Dominic stared at the red light above the operating room. "Did you?"
Celeste blinked. "Of course not."
He turned slowly. "Look at me."
Her eyes met his half a second too late. That delay bothered him. Dominic had built his adult empire on measuring hesitation—a union chief answering too quickly, a councilman looking left before saying no. He could hear dishonesty in the space between words.
"What aren't you telling me, Celeste?" Dominic growled, his voice dropping into a lethal register.
"Nothing, Dominic!" she insisted, clutching her designer bag. "She left you eight months ago! She cut off all contact! How could I possibly know she was pregnant?"
Before Dominic could respond, the heavy surgical doors swung open.
Dr. Aris, the chief trauma surgeon, stepped into the hallway, pulling off his blood-stained gloves. His face was etched with deep exhaustion.
Dominic stepped forward, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped beast. "Is she alive? Is my child alive?"
Dr. Aris looked at Dominic, then cast a cold glance at Celeste standing behind him.
"Your wife survived the emergency C-section, Mr. Vescari," Dr. Aris said flatly. "She is in ICU in critical condition."
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"And the baby?" Dominic pressed, his hand gripping the doctor's shoulder.
The doctor paused, his voice turning icy. "You have a daughter. She weighs three pounds, four ounces. She’s in the NICU fighting for her life—no thanks to the brake lines on your wife's car being cut."
