“The 911 dispatcher logged her distress call at exactly 7:42 PM,” Marcus stated, his frequency vibrating with raw, clinical fury. “The emergency medical services mainframe attempted to send an automated override to your smart-home server, but your application logged a manual rejection block from your corporate device at 7:45 PM. You deliberately left her to bleed out on the kitchen tile so your mother’s catering schedule wouldn’t face an administrative delay.”
Liam’s hands shook so violently he couldn’t maintain his grip on his car keys. “Is… is the baby… are they—”
“My niece is inside a neonatal intensive care incubator fighting for her life,” Marcus intercepted, his eyes turning to absolute, unyielding iron. “And your wife spent forty-eight hours under an induced coma after our tactical unit shattered your steel doors to extract her dying frame. But while you were busy drinking champagne, my legal team was busy auditing your system’s data files.”
