Jada Norman POV:

The world exploded in harsh, blinding light. The steel door, my tormentor and prison, swung inward with a jarring clang. I blinked, my eyes struggling to adjust, to discern reality through the haze of pain and venom.

A man stood framed in the doorway, a figure in crisp white scrubs. Dr. Albright, one of the Manning family's personal physicians. His eyes, when they landed on me, widened in horror. He stumbled back a step, a choked gasp escaping his lips.

"My God!" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Who... who are you? And what on earth could you have done to deserve this?"

His first thought wasn't to help, but to judge. To understand what monstrous act I must have committed to warrant such a brutal punishment. This was the Manning world, where consequences were always tied to perceived transgressions, not simple human suffering.

"I'm... Deegan's wife," I rasped, my voice barely a tremor. My hand, the mangled one, weakly lifted, displaying the platinum wedding band on my finger. The inscription, "Deegan & Jada," was barely visible beneath the smear of dark, congealed blood. A cruel joke.

He recognized the ring, a flicker of something akin to recognition, then doubt, crossing his face. He took a cautious step forward, then stopped, his gaze darting nervously towards the door, as if expecting to be caught. The Mannings' power was absolute, their wrath legendary. No one dared cross them.

He pulled out his phone, his hand visibly shaking as he dialed Deegan's private line. "Sir," he stammered, his voice strained. "It's Dr. Albright. I've found her. Mrs. Manning. She's in critical condition. Losing a lot of blood. I suspect venom... possibly an allergic reaction."

Deegan's voice, even through the speaker, was laced with irritation. "Venom? Don't be absurd, Doctor. It's probably just Kamryn's pet snake. She called me earlier, complaining Jada scratched it. She's always so dramatic." His tone was cold, dismissive. "Jada is perfectly healthy. This is just another one of her ploys to get attention, to try and jump the queue before Karmen. I'll handle it myself."

The line went dead.

Dr. Albright lowered the phone, his eyes, now filled with a genuine pity, met mine. He looked at me, a dying woman, with a flicker of humanity I hadn't seen from anyone in what felt like an eternity. He started to walk past me, towards some equipment. My heart sank. He was leaving.

But then, he stopped. He turned back, his shoulders slumped, his face contorted with an internal struggle. His gaze fell to my swollen belly, then to my mangled hand, then to the pool of blood spreading around me.

"There are two lives here," he muttered, his voice filled with newfound resolve. "I can't just stand by." He clenched his jaw. "My wife... she's also pregnant. I wouldn't want her to face this alone."

He knelt, gently scooping me up from the cold, bloody floor. The movement sent a fresh wave of agony through my body, but a tiny spark of hope flared. He was going to help. He was going to save my baby.

He carried me out of the panic room, through a series of sterile corridors, towards what I knew was the family's private medical center. I exhaled, a ragged, shuddering breath. We were going to make it. My baby was going to be safe.

But when we arrived, he stopped short. We both did. The room was empty.

Completely, horribly, utterly empty.

All the state-of-the-art medical equipment, the IV drips, the surgical table, the life-saving drugs – all of it was gone. Stripped bare.

"Where... where did it all go?" Dr. Albright whispered, his voice laced with confusion, then dawning horror.

The answer, agonizingly clear, slammed into me. Deegan. He had anticipated this. He had moved everything. Every single piece of equipment, every vial of medicine, every tool that could save me and my child, had been relocated. To Karmen's private clinic. Karmen, the queen. While I was left to die.

Everything that could have saved us was gone.

Jada Norman POV:

Dr. Albright's face was ashen, mirroring the stark reality of my impending death. He knew. I was bleeding out, the venom coursing through my system, and he was helpless. He had to get me to a real hospital, a public one, where Deegan's commands wouldn't dictate life and death.

He frantically dialed Deegan's private number again, his thumb hovering over the call button. I could see the desperate resolve in his eyes. "Sir, it's Dr. Albright again," he practically yelled into the phone, his voice strained. "Mrs. Manning's condition has worsened dramatically. She's bleeding heavily, and the venom is spreading. She needs immediate medical attention, or she will die. The baby will die."

"Enough of this nonsense!" Deegan roared back, his voice thick with irritation and impatience. "Are you trying to bribe me, Doctor? Is Jada paying you to put on this show? I told you, she's fine. She's an actress, always has been. She's just trying to force her hand, to get ahead of Karmen."

My heart sank. He truly believed it. He truly believed I would orchestrate my own near-death experience, sacrifice my child, just to win some twisted inheritance game.

"She's not performing, sir! Her vitals are crashing! The baby's heart rate is dropping!" Dr. Albright pleaded, his voice cracking.

"I said she's fine!" Deegan's voice was a cold, hard blow. "She's strong. She'll wait. My son will be born first. You underestimate her, Doctor. And there will be consequences if you disobey me."

The line went dead again.

Dr. Albright stared at the phone, then at me, lying limp and dying in his arms. His face crumpled. But then, a stubborn fire lit in his eyes. He tightened his grip on me. "I won't let you die here," he muttered, more to himself than to me. "I'll take you to a private clinic. It's a long shot, but it's all we have."

He carried me out, rushing through the sterile corridors once more. The irony wasn't lost on me. I was being taken to Karmen's private clinic, the very place that held all the equipment that should have saved me.

Through the glass doors, I could see it. The clinic was brightly lit, a hive of activity. Nurses moved with hurried efficiency. Doctors hovered, attending to Karmen, who was undoubtedly draped in silk sheets, sipping champagne, surrounded by every comfort imaginable. The air was thick with expectation, with the anticipation of a new, cherished life.

And there, gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights, were the rows of state-of-the-art medical machines. Incubators, monitors, surgical tools – all the things that could have saved me, that should have been used on me, laid out in pristine order. All for Karmen. All because of Deegan's twisted loyalty.

Dr. Albright burst through the doors, shouting, "I need help! Immediate assistance! This woman is dying!"

A stern-faced nurse, her gaze cold and unyielding, stepped forward. "I'm sorry, Doctor. Mr. Manning's orders are very clear. All resources are reserved exclusively for Mrs. Karmen Manning. No unauthorized personnel, no unauthorized usage."

"She's dying!" Dr. Albright roared, his voice cracking with desperation. "And she's pregnant! The baby is dying!"

The nurse merely shook her head. "That's not our concern." Not even a painkiller. Deegan's command was absolute.

Then, a tall figure appeared in the doorway of Karmen's birthing suite. It was Angel Crane, Deegan's executive assistant, his face drawn with fatigue. He saw me, covered in blood, my face a deathly white. His eyes widened in shock.

"Mr. Manning!" Angel yelled, rushing back into Karmen's room. "There's a woman out here, covered in blood! She looks just like... Mrs. Jada Manning!"

Deegan frowned, pressing his fingers to his temples. "Don't be ridiculous, Angel. Jada's fine. She wouldn't be able to make it all the way here anyway. She's probably playing games. Send her away."

"Sir, she's bleeding heavily," Angel insisted, his voice lower, more urgent. "You need to see her. The baby might be in danger."

Deegan lost his temper. He shot a furious glare at Angel. "Are you deaf, Angel? I said she's fine! If it were Jada, she would be storming in here, demanding attention herself. She's too vain to let anyone see her in such a state. Use your head!"

Angel, chastised, could only shake his head helplessly. He walked back to Dr. Albright, his face a mask of regret. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I can't help you."

Dr. Albright, defeated, looked at the closed doors of Karmen's treatment room. His face was etched with guilt, but I knew he had tried. He had tried everything. I wanted to tell him not to blame himself, but I couldn't speak. My mouth was dry, my tongue heavy.

The blood loss, the venom, the labor-suppressing drugs – each one was a relentless current, pulling me irrevocably towards death. I could hear the hushed whispers of the medical staff, their voices fading in and out.

"Mrs. Manning's son is almost here," one said.

"The other one... she's critical. She won't make it," another murmured.

"The venom has spread to her organs. Fetal heartbeat is weakening rapidly."

"Get the emergency tools ready, just in case."

A searing, unfamiliar pain ripped through my abdomen. It wasn't a contraction. It was the pain of dying.

My hand instinctively went to my belly. The once-full curve was now slack, empty. My baby was gone.

"My baby," I screamed internally, a silent, guttural cry of pure anguish. "I'm so sorry, my child. Mama failed you."

A single, hot tear escaped my eye, tracing a path through the grime and blood on my cheek. It was my last.

Then, the world went dark.