While I sat beside my premature twins in the NICU, my husband dropped divorce papers onto my lap and told me he had emptied every joint account. His pregnant mistress stood beside him wearing the custom maternity coat I had bought for myself. He thought I was helpless—until I signed the papers, picked up my phone, and called the billionaire grandfather he never knew existed.

I sprinted toward the emergency stairwell, completely ignoring the burning exhaustion in my lungs.

Arthur's elite mercenaries were right on my heels, their heavy boots pounding against the concrete steps.

We bypassed the elevators entirely, knowing the syndicate had likely hacked the hospital's power grid.

We reached the fourth floor and violently kicked open the heavy fire doors.

The hallway leading to the NICU was filled with thick, choking smoke from a deployed tear gas canister.

I pulled my shirt over my nose and mouth, desperately pushing through the blinding haze.

The outer security perimeter of the ward had been entirely wiped out by the heavily armed attackers.

I drew a borrowed tactical pistol from one of the guards, clicking the safety off with trembling fingers.

We reached the heavy double doors of the intensive care unit and found them blown off their hinges.

I cautiously stepped into the ruined ward, my eyes scanning the room for my fragile babies.

The incubators were completely surrounded by four men dressed in black tactical gear.

They were planting small, magnetic explosive charges directly onto the vital life-support machines.

I did not hesitate or wait for the mercenaries to engage the targets.

I raised my weapon and fired three precise shots, instantly dropping the closest attacker.

The room erupted into a deafening, chaotic firefight as Arthur's men flooded into the ward.

I dove behind an overturned medical cart, desperately crawling toward Liam and Chloe's incubators.

The glass cases were miraculously intact, but the main power monitors were violently flashing red.

The hospital's backup generators had been completely severed by the syndicate's explosives.

The oxygen pumps supporting my premature twins were slowly powering down.

I frantically began searching for the manual ventilation bags hidden in the emergency medical kits.

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She found her husband with another woman and walked away so quietly that...

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A heavy combat boot suddenly slammed down on my wrist, crushing my hand against the linoleum floor.

I looked up into the cold, dead eyes of the syndicate's ruthless leader.

Chapter 7 - The Siege of the NICU