Chapter 5 - The NICU Sanctuary
Because the triplets—whom we named Leo, Alexander, and Sophia—were born six weeks early, they were immediately transferred to St. Jude’s Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.
For the next four days, Elena and I lived inside a quiet bubble within the hospital. I refused to leave her side for a single second, sleeping on a narrow vinyl pull-out sofa beside her hospital bed, helping her walk down the hall to the NICU every three hours to feed and hold our tiny children.
Seeing my children in those glass incubators, surrounded by wires and monitors, broke my heart and healed it all at once. Leo was the largest at four pounds two ounces; Alexander was three pounds eleven ounces; and tiny Sophia was just three pounds seven ounces. But despite their small size, the doctors assured us their lungs were strong and their vital signs were exceptional.
While Elena rested on the fifth afternoon, I sat in the corner of her room with Marcus, who had brought a secure laptop and a mountain of legal documents.
"We filed the emergency injunction this morning," Marcus said quietly, pointing to a stack of signed court papers. "Judge Henderson signed off on an immediate freeze of all corporate accounts controlled by Margaret and Paige. Your voting rights as seventy-percent shareholder of Cole Urban Development have been fully restored."
"Good," I said, eyeing the screen. "What about the personal accounts?"
"That's where it gets ugly," Marcus said, scrolling through a spreadsheet. "Paige drained your private wealth management portfolio—about four point two million dollars. She transferred it through three separate LLCs in Nevada and the Cayman Islands. They also listed your lake house in Coeur d'Alene for sale at half its market value."
My jaw tightened. "They were liquidating my life so that when I finally died or was committed to an institution, there would be nothing left for Elena to inherit."
"Exactly," Marcus nodded. "And there's more. The crash itself..."
I looked up sharply. "What about the crash?"
Marcus pulled up a PDF report from the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB). "The preliminary report stated fuel line contamination caused engine failure forty minutes out of Spokane. But three weeks ago, a senior mechanic at the private hangar in Felts Field came forward. He claims he was offered fifty thousand dollars in cash by a man matching the description of Paige's husband, Gregory, to conduct an unauthorized inspection of your aircraft the night before you flew."
A cold, dark fury settled deep into my bones.
"They didn't just take advantage of the crash," I whispered, the terrifying realization washing over me. "They tried to murder me."
"We can't prove Gregory ordered the sabotage yet," Marcus warned softly. "The mechanic is scared to testify without full immunity. But the federal prosecutor I spoke with is opening a formal criminal investigation."
Before I could reply, the door opened, and Elena walked into the room, supported by a wooden IV pole. She looked stronger, color returning to her cheeks, though her eyes were heavy with fatigue.
"Adrian," she murmured, looking at the screens and legal papers spread across the table. "What's happening?"
I closed the laptop immediately and stood up, reaching out to wrap my arm around her waist, supporting her weight.
"Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart," I lied softly, kissing her temple.
Elena looked up at me, her hazel eyes serious and unyielding. "Adrian... no more secrets. No more protecting me from the truth. We fought this battle together when we had nothing. We're going to fight it together now."
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I looked at Marcus, then back at my wife. She was right. Treating her as fragile was the mistake my family had exploited. Elena wasn't just my wife—she was my partner.
"Sit down," I said gently, guiding her to the comfortable armchair. "Marcus... show her everything."
