CHAPTER SEVEN; Emergency

The sterile silence of the critical care unit was shattered by the sudden blaring of alarms, the steady rhythm of the heart monitor skipping and faltering. Rose jerked upright in her chair, heart pounding, as a flurry of activity erupted around her father's bed.

"Code blue!" one of the nurses shouted, her voice tinged with urgency as she reached for the defibrillator paddles. "Dr. Winters, he's going into v-fib!"

Rose felt the blood drain from her face, her hands trembling as she watched the medical team spring into action, their voices barking out orders and instructions in a desperate bid to stabilize Wendell's rapidly deteriorating condition. The piercing whine of the defibrillator sent a jolt of adrenaline through her, and she found herself holding her breath, silently pleading for her father to hold on.

After what felt like an eternity, the steady beep of the heart monitor resumed, and the frenetic energy in the room began to ebb. Rose sagged back in her chair, her legs suddenly weak as the enormity of what had just transpired sank in.

"His condition is critical," Dr. Winters said grimly, his brow creased with worry as he approached Rose. "We've managed to stabilize him for now, but..." He paused, shaking his head. "I'm afraid we're running out of options. If his heart doesn't stabilize soon, there may be nothing more we can do."

Rose felt her throat constrict, the words hitting her like a physical blow. Her father, the pillar of strength and unwavering resolve, reduced to this fragile, ailing shell - it was almost too much for her to bear. "There has to be something," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Anything you can do..."

The doctor's gaze was heavy with sympathy. "I wish I could offer you more hope, Miss Blackwell. But the damage to his heart is extensive, and his body is simply too weak to withstand much more." He paused, his expression grave. "I would suggest preparing yourself for the worst. Spend as much time with him as you can, in case..."

Rose barely registered the rest of his words, her mind reeling. Prepare for the worst? How could she even contemplate a world without her father in it? Wendell Blackwell was the very foundation upon which the Blackwell legacy was built - the idea of that crumbling was unthinkable.

As the medical team retreated, leaving her alone once more at Wendell's bedside, Rose felt a familiar sense of panic and desperation begin to take hold. She couldn't lose him, not like this. There had to be something she could do. Her teary gaze drifted to the door, and a spark of inspiration lit within her. The doctors kept insisting that it was his heart, and without any warning at all. Her father was one of the strongest people she knew. Even after the death of her mother at a young age, he'd been her rock and had still kept the company standing. That he had a problem with his heart now could only mean something had changed. Perhaps the company was having issues that she didn't know about. She looked at the prone image of her father on the bed again and steeled her resolve.

It went against all she knew to leave him there, but she had something to do. When she came back, she'd be able to sit by him and talk to him, reassuring him of whatever it was. Saying a prayer that he was still alive in the next few hours, she blew him a kiss, and surged to her feet, her mind racing. Where would she start from?

The fact that she was born an heiress didn't make her any less ignorant about her father's mind. She angrily wiped tears from her eyes, she wasn't supposed to be doing this without him, he was supposed to properly hand the company over to her so she could learn by instruction instead of experience. She wiped her eyes again, but the tears kept coming. She couldn't drive in this condition, she was more likely to cause an accident, but she didn't know who to call. She hadn't kept in touch with her friends and she couldn't even imagine sharing the news with anyone. And it wasn't a secret that the business world was a cut-throat one. His shareholders were most likely to facilitate her father's death and try to claim the company themselves. HShe unconsciously drifted her finger to Laurent's number but she couldn't do it. With her hand over her head, she bent on the floor and wept. She'd never felt so alone.

A tap on her shoulder startled her and she looked up to find Laurent staring at her in concern. "Rose? Baby, what's wrong?" The sound of his voice only made her cry harder. He raised her up and hugged her, pulling her face into his chest while awkwardly patting her back, "It's alright, Love. It's alright. Let's head out and talk about it okay? She nodded into his chest, and felt him move her gently out of the hall. When he'd gotten to his car, he made her comfortable in the passenger's seat, and pulled out a couple of tissues from the box and placed it at her front. Sniffing her now throbbing nose, she wiped her tears with the tissue and blew her nose. It wasn't elegant but she was far from caring.

"How did you get here?" she asked, when she was back in control of her emotions.

He scratched his head. "I saw you drive out of the office in a rush and wanted to tell you something. But when you weren't driving as you used to, I decided to follow you" he shrugged.

So he'd been watching her. She shook her head, that wasn't the point.

"So, I'm guessing it's bad news" he asked softly, and she resisted the urge to burst into tears anew.

Instead, she just nodded her head.

"I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head 'no', but her mouth opened and she started talking. "It's my father. The doctor said it was his heart. It's not looking good" It took an effort to hold back the tears but she was proud she'd done it. She wrapped her arms around her and shivered, Laurent silently placed his jacket on her and she burrowed further in. Now was definitely not the time to get lost in the scent of his perfume and his unique musk, but God, she wanted to.

"Did the doctors say what the problem is exactly?" He asked.

She shook her head no, "I know my father. He doesn't have a problem with his heart"

"But his age…"

"No" she snapped and instantly felt sorry. "Sorry. 68 is not that old. I know him, he still acts the same as ever"

"Alright. I believe you. Then what do you think is the problem" Despite the fact that she wasn't a licensed or even unlicensed medical practitioner, she couldn't hear a trace of sarcasm in his voice. He was really asking for her opinion.

She looked at him from below her lashes, and lowered it again. Why was this embarrassing? It was Laurent, she'd done more embarrassing things with him. "Stress. I know I said it's not his age but I think he's facing some issues that he's keeping from him. That might be the problem"

She looked at him again. God please, let him support her. He cocked his head from left to right before he nodded, "Yes, that must be it. God knows it can't be easy trying to keep the legacy successful. Maybe something happened that we don't yet know about"

She slumped in the chair in relief. "So, what do we do?"

"We can find out what it is. Or better still, stay with your father while I help you do some digging"

Oh. "I don't want to leave him, but I'd like to have something positive to say to him on my return. I can't return this hopeless. The doctor keeps insisting I have faith, but I fear …" she clamped her lips shut.

Laurent pulled her into another hug, uncomfortable because he was still standing while she was sitting, but oh, how it warmed her heart. Then, with his heart still thudding in her ear, he whispered, "Don't worry Sweet. He won't die, Okay?" he turned her face to his, "You trust me, right?"

She thought about it but there was no doubt. She nodded her head.

"Then trust me on this"

She nodded again. She did trust him, and there was no iota of doubt on his face. She might have lost hope, but she could borrow from his.

He pulled her in for a searing kiss that kept out the chill in the air, and turned the butterflies in her stomach to fluttering. His tongue drifted in to meet hers and she swallowed a moan. She could feel her lips getting swollen and she was hearing her pulse somewhere else. She groaned again, and aggressively kissed him in return, scratching her nails down his back and getting a perverse satisfaction from his own groan. Good, what was oxygen, when she could have this.

She could feel him trying to pull away, and she reluctantly untangled herself. She was lightheaded, and the look Laurent had leveled at her turned her knees to dust. She was really glad she was sitting because she was sure she'd have fallen otherwise.

With a surprising amount of concentration, she tried to pull herself back into the game but she kept getting distracted. His scattered hair, courtesy of her grabbing hands, and the hardness she could see in his trouser only derailed her thoughts further. Gods, what would he feel like? She was a virgin, but she was desperate to know what he would taste like, what her name would sound like on his lips when he wasn't in control.

He could obviously see the thoughts on her face because he licked his lips, but instead of acting, he shut the door and leaned his hands on the car. The sound also shook her thoughts off, but she still licked her lips in anticipation. Her eyes followed him as he got into the driver's seat, and as soon as he sat down, she pounced on him. In her desperation, she didn't realize that he was trying to hold her off until she heard his "Rose, no, stop". She froze immediately and looked up. She knew he wanted it and she mentioned the same, but he only laughed and rubbed his palms down his face, "Of course I want it, Love, but not light this"

Understanding came in glimpses. This was a public environment, and not just that, her father was currently laid up on a bed, helpless and banking on her.

"I'm not going to take advantage of your sadness, Sweetheart. Let's get to work first"

She licked her lips again. She was still aware of her throbbing clit, but she put it at the back of her mind. He was right, of course.

"But when all this is over, you owe me?" she said angrily, and the look she shot him would have made a sane woman run. But nobody had ever accused her of being sane.