Bride to Blood Bank - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading Bride to Blood Bank, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of Bride to Blood Bank.
The cold steel of my stare locked onto his. So this was how Ian saw me - just another disposable tool in his collection, something to be used up and tossed aside when convenient.
A bitter laugh escaped me, sharp with pain and dripping with sarcasm. "Your time's coming, Ian. Judgment day's here."
My voice dropped to a whisper. "You can't save her. Trish won't make it."
Ian's hand froze mid-air, genuine panic flashing across his face for the first time. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Because—"
CRASH!
The operating room doors exploded inward.
"FREEZE! Ian Seymour, you're under arrest for illegal medical procedures and coercion!"
We both whipped our heads toward the entrance where Marilyn stood, backed by a squad of cops. Her eyes burned with a fire I'd never seen before.
"I knew something was off," Marilyn spat. "You claimed Zara needed emergency delivery, but you kept muffling her screams. That blood on her lips? Not normal postpartum bleeding."
She advanced like a storm, each word landing like a punch. "Thank God I trusted my instincts. Followed you here. Saw you drag her into an OR with no staff. Then the records showed she was never admitted." Her disgusted headshake said it all. "So I called the cavalry."
Her gaze dropped to my gaping incision and the tiny, motionless form on the floor. A sharp inhale. Then her fury refocused on Ian. "That was your wife! Your child! What kind of soulless monster does this?"
Ian's face twisted into something ugly as he rounded on Marilyn. "Who the fuck do you think you are? I'm her husband! Head of OB-GYN here! That gives me every right—"
He jerked a crumpled paper from his coat, flinging it to the tiles. "Signed consent! Completely legal! I've broken no laws!"
Marilyn's shaking finger pointed at my exposed, bleeding abdomen. "This isn't medicine. This is butchery."
I fought to keep my eyes open, consciousness flickering, but damned if I'd let him walk away.
Weak but clear, I spoke: "Our marriage was a con, Ian. You forced this surgery at eight months just to harvest cord blood for Trish." My voice cracked under the weight of betrayal. "Coercion. Fraud. Malpractice. Still think you're clean?"
A horrified silence fell. Every cop, every nurse stared at Ian like he was something they'd stepped in.
"Jesus Christ," someone muttered. "This is next-level evil."
The hospital director shoved through the crowd, face purple with rage. "Dr. Seymour, you're terminated effective immediately. You've violated every oath we take."
Ian's jaw dropped. "You can't fire me! I had consent! I'm her husband!"
Wild-eyed, he grabbed my wrist hard enough to bruise. "Zara, tell them! You agreed to help Trish!"
I exhaled a laugh that held zero humor. "Told you... payback's a bitch."
His grip turned vicious, nails drawing blood. "We're still married, sweetheart. My downfall takes you with me."
"Don't count on it." I flashed him a smile colder than the OR lights. "Consider this my verbal divorce filing - with about twenty witnesses."
For the first time, real fear flashed across his face. He stumbled back like the floor had turned to quicksand.
"This... this isn't..." he stammered, ghost-pale.
The cops moved in fast, wrenching his arms behind his back.
"Ian Sterling, you're under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you..."
The Miranda rights faded as darkness finally claimed me. But not before I saw the beautiful sight of Ian's empire crumbling around him.
A bitter laugh escaped me, sharp with pain and dripping with sarcasm. "Your time's coming, Ian. Judgment day's here."
My voice dropped to a whisper. "You can't save her. Trish won't make it."
Ian's hand froze mid-air, genuine panic flashing across his face for the first time. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Because—"
CRASH!
The operating room doors exploded inward.
"FREEZE! Ian Seymour, you're under arrest for illegal medical procedures and coercion!"
We both whipped our heads toward the entrance where Marilyn stood, backed by a squad of cops. Her eyes burned with a fire I'd never seen before.
"I knew something was off," Marilyn spat. "You claimed Zara needed emergency delivery, but you kept muffling her screams. That blood on her lips? Not normal postpartum bleeding."
She advanced like a storm, each word landing like a punch. "Thank God I trusted my instincts. Followed you here. Saw you drag her into an OR with no staff. Then the records showed she was never admitted." Her disgusted headshake said it all. "So I called the cavalry."
Her gaze dropped to my gaping incision and the tiny, motionless form on the floor. A sharp inhale. Then her fury refocused on Ian. "That was your wife! Your child! What kind of soulless monster does this?"
Ian's face twisted into something ugly as he rounded on Marilyn. "Who the fuck do you think you are? I'm her husband! Head of OB-GYN here! That gives me every right—"
He jerked a crumpled paper from his coat, flinging it to the tiles. "Signed consent! Completely legal! I've broken no laws!"
Marilyn's shaking finger pointed at my exposed, bleeding abdomen. "This isn't medicine. This is butchery."
I fought to keep my eyes open, consciousness flickering, but damned if I'd let him walk away.
Weak but clear, I spoke: "Our marriage was a con, Ian. You forced this surgery at eight months just to harvest cord blood for Trish." My voice cracked under the weight of betrayal. "Coercion. Fraud. Malpractice. Still think you're clean?"
A horrified silence fell. Every cop, every nurse stared at Ian like he was something they'd stepped in.
"Jesus Christ," someone muttered. "This is next-level evil."
The hospital director shoved through the crowd, face purple with rage. "Dr. Seymour, you're terminated effective immediately. You've violated every oath we take."
Ian's jaw dropped. "You can't fire me! I had consent! I'm her husband!"
Wild-eyed, he grabbed my wrist hard enough to bruise. "Zara, tell them! You agreed to help Trish!"
I exhaled a laugh that held zero humor. "Told you... payback's a bitch."
His grip turned vicious, nails drawing blood. "We're still married, sweetheart. My downfall takes you with me."
"Don't count on it." I flashed him a smile colder than the OR lights. "Consider this my verbal divorce filing - with about twenty witnesses."
For the first time, real fear flashed across his face. He stumbled back like the floor had turned to quicksand.
"This... this isn't..." he stammered, ghost-pale.
The cops moved in fast, wrenching his arms behind his back.
"Ian Sterling, you're under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you..."
The Miranda rights faded as darkness finally claimed me. But not before I saw the beautiful sight of Ian's empire crumbling around him.
End of Bride to Blood Bank Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to Bride to Blood Bank book page.