Chapter 3 - The Declaration of War
The cold reality of my isolation crashed over me like a tidal wave. I was in a hospital gown, bleeding, broke, and trapped in a wheelchair, while my billionaire mother-in-law and spineless husband plotted to steal my newborn child.
"Dr. Vance," I rasped, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I looked up at the neonatologist. "Is this legal? Can they take my baby out of this hospital without my consent?"
Dr. Vance looked deeply uncomfortable, his jaw set in a tight line as he looked between Margaret and Daniel. "Under normal hospital protocol, both parents hold equal legal decision-making rights unless a court order specifies otherwise. If Mr. Bennett, as the biological father, signs transfer authorization papers, the hospital legal department would have to review it before any movement occurs."
"Which they will," Margaret interjected smoothly, pulling out her smartphone. "Our family attorney, Arthur Pendelton, is already speaking with your Chief of Surgery. The transfer request will be executed by 9:00 AM tomorrow."
"You are a monster," I said, looking Margaret straight in the eye.
"I am a realist," Margaret replied, placing her phone back in her bag. "You came into this family with nothing, Rachel. A public school art teacher with a bankrupt father and a dead mother. We gave you a roof over your head, a luxury lifestyle, and a place at our table. And in return, you gave my son a broken marriage and a critically ill child. You don't belong in the Bennett family. And you certainly aren't fit to raise the next heir to Bennett Enterprise."
"He isn't an heir!" I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks. "He's a baby! He's my baby!"
"Daniel," Margaret commanded, ignoring my cries completely. "We're leaving. Let the nurses clean her up. She's causing a scene."
Daniel looked at me for a split second—a flash of profound guilt and regret drowning in his weak, cowardly eyes—before he turned his back and followed his mother out through the double doors of the NICU.
The heavy doors clicked shut behind them.
I pulled my knees up as much as my surgical incision allowed, buried my face in my hands, and sobbed until my entire body shook with agony.
"Rachel... Rachel, look at me."
Dr. Vance was kneeling beside my wheelchair, holding a glass of water and a box of tissues.
"I can't lose him," I gasped, choking on my own tears. "She's going to take him away to Boston and lock me out. She has millions of dollars, Dr. Vance. I don't even have enough money in my personal account to pay for a lawyer!"
"You don't need millions of dollars, Rachel," a firm, sharp female voice declared from the entrance of the pod.
I wiped my eyes and turned around.
Standing in the doorway was a tall, elegant woman in her late fifties, wearing a tailored charcoal-grey pantsuit, her silver hair pulled back into a flawless, sharp bun. She carried a thick leather briefcase and radiated an aura of unshakeable authority.
"Dr. Carter told me what was happening up here," the woman said, stepping into the room with crisp, purposeful strides. "My name is Victoria Vance. I am Dr. Vance's older sister, and senior partner at Vance, Sterling & Croft—the largest family law firm in the state."
I blinked, stunned. "You... you're a family lawyer?"
"I am the lawyer who spent the last fifteen years taking predatory corporate families like the Bennetts to court and stripping them down to their underwear," Victoria said with a razor-sharp, vicious smile. She pulled a pen and an official legal intake pad from her briefcase. "My brother called me forty-five minutes ago and told me what happened in your operating room. Forgery, attempted forced sterilization, medical coercion, and attempted child abduction."
Victoria sat down on the stool beside my wheelchair, her eyes burning with intense, protective fire.
"I took this case pro bono the moment Marcus told me what that woman said to you in the OR," Victoria said, leaning in close. "Now, Rachel... are you ready to stop crying and start fighting?"
I looked over at Incubator 4, where my tiny son was sleeping beneath the blue light, his small hand still twitching softly in his sleep.
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I wiped the tears from my face, felt the burning pain in my abdomen transform into a cold, unbreakable pillar of steel inside my chest, and looked back at Victoria Vance.
"Tell me what to do," I said.
