CHAPTER 110: FOR THEM

Anna’s POV

"They’ve issued two critical condition notices," Sean said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "But they’re still trying." He hesitated, eyes dropping to my protruding belly. "Perhaps you shouldn’t go in. I can handle this.

What if you accidentally get hurt..."

I understood his concern, but as the person responsible for this project-and this man’s safety—I needed to see firsthand. Despite my advanced pregnancy, I moved determinedly toward the emergency room, my hand protectively curved around my twins.

The hospital corridor reeked of antiseptic and desperation. A burly man with red-rimmed eyes spotted Sean and immediately charged toward us. "You said you were getting the blood! Where the hell have you been?" His voice cracked with barely contained panic. "If my brother dies, I swear to God_"

"Lucian," Sean said calmly, "this is Anna Shaw."

Lucian Cox’s eyes narrowed as they swept over me, lingering on my rounded belly before returning to my face. "Who the hell are you? Some manager? You gonna write me a check and call it a day?"

I stepped forward, meeting his gaze directly. "I’m Anna Shaw, CEO of Shaw Corp."

His mouth opened slightly, words momentarily failing him. I understood his surprise-most people didn’t expect the pregnant woman in comfortable flats to be the one signing their paychecks.

"Your brother is receiving the best care possible," I continued, keeping my voice steady. "I’ve instructed the hospital to spare no expense. I promise you, were doing everything humanly possible to save him."

Catherine smoothly stepped in beside me. "Shaw Corp will cover all medical expenses and provide compensation, regardless of how this happened."

Rachel touched my arm gently. "Ms. Shaw, perhaps you should wait in the car and have something to eat?"

"She’s not going anywhere!" Lucian’s head snapped up, suspicion flaring in his bloodshot eyes. "My brother’s still in surgery."

"I’ll stay right here," I assured him, carefully lowering myself into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs.

"Clayton, could you get some food for everyone? We might be here a while."

Clayton hesitated, his protective instincts visibly warring with my request.

"Go," I said firmly. "Sean and Rachel will stay with me."

As Clayton departed, Sean returned with several paper bags from a nearby deli. He’d changed his bloodstained shirt, I noticed with appreciation.

"I thought everyone might need something to eat," he explained, distributing sandwiches among the small group of construction workers gathered in the waiting area.

Catherine was scrolling through her phone, her expression darkening by the second. "Anna, look at this." She thrust the screen at me, displaying a gossip site with the blaring headline:

"CHAOS AT SHAW CORP CONSTRUCTION SITE: WORKER IMPALED, CEO NOWHERE TO BE FOUND."

"They’re saying you’ve abandoned your workers," Catherine hissed.

My jaw tightened. Marcus had warned me about potential sabotage, but I’d never expected it to take this form—a human sacrifice for the sake of negative publicity.

"Rachel," I said quietly, "contact hospital security. No reporters inside, no information about the surgery released. Complete lockdown."

Rachel nodded and stepped away to make calls.

I turned back to Lucian and the other workers. "I believe someone deliberately caused this accident."

Lucian’s eyebrows shot up. "You’re saying someone wanted my brother skewered like a kebab? Why?"

"To stop Paradise Valley Estates," I explained, resting a protective hand on my belly. "Some people are determined to see this project fail, no matter the cost."

"So my brother’s just collateral damage?" His voice rose dangerously.

"I’m not here to dodge responsibility," I said firmly. "But I need your cooperation to find out who’s really behind this."

He studied me for a long moment, eyes falling to my pregnant belly. "What do you want from us?"

"Regardless of how your brother’s surgery goes, I need you to keep this situation quiet for now. Just until we can investigate."

"You want us to keep our mouths shut?" Lucian scoffed. "So you can cover your ass?"

"So I can find who targeted your brother," I corrected sharply. "I swear to you, Lucius will receive the best care possible, and Shaw Corp will take full responsibility for his recovery. But if we go public now, whoever did this will get exactly what they want."

Lucian’s face softened slightly. "I don’t know, lady. That’s asking a lot."

I touched my stomach. "I understand your hesitation. I give you my word-won’t abandon Lucius or any of you."

After what felt like an eternity, Lucian gave a reluctant nod.

Just then, a flustered-looking Inigo Holt-the project’s engineering manager-burst through the door.

"Ms. Shaw! I just heard-I was at dinner with the subcontractors when _"

"Dinner?" The word sliced through the air like a blade. "While one of your workers was being impaled, you were enjoying _dinner_? Did your phone suddenly stop working, or did you simply turn it off for your _important_ meal?"

Anna’s POV

"Daniel Davis has been at the site since the moment he was notified," I continued, my voice softening slightly.

"He secured the scene, contacted emergency services, made arrangements for the family, and kept me informed every step of the way." I turned my gaze back to Inigo. "That’s the standard I expect. Not excuses about dinner meetings."

My phone vibrated in my hand-Mom calling again. I declined with a swipe, knowing she was worried but unable to step away right now.

"Ms. Shaw," Rachel approached cautiously, "perhaps you should sit down. You’ve been standing for almost an hour."

I appreciated her concern but shook my head. "I’m fine." The twins shifted inside me, a flutter of movement that strengthened my resolve. Even they understood we weren’t going anywhere.

"Anna," Catherine appeared at my elbow, her voice uncharacteristically gentle, "at least drink some water and eat something. For them." She nodded toward my belly.

I accepted the bottle she offered, taking a small sip as Lucian Cox approached.

His expression had shifted subtly-the raw hostility replaced with something closer to grudging respect.

My phone lit up again-Mom’s third call in ten minutes. With a sigh, I stepped away to answer.

"Annie! Are you alright? Rachel told me what happened-you need to come home right now!" Mom’s voice carried that special blend of maternal concern and command that had worked on me since childhood.

"Mom, I can’t leave yet. I need to be here."

"You’re five months pregnant with twins! I don’t care what crisis is happening—your babies come first!"

I turned away from the curious eyes watching me, keeping my voice low.

"My babies are fine. And right now, I need to show everyone at Shaw Corp that we don’t abandon our people when things get tough."

Five hours. The sterile double doors of the operating room remained stubbornly closed for five excruciating hours. Catherine kept trying to steer me toward the waiting area chairs, but I couldn’t sit still. Even from a distance, I caught fragments of medical terminology that made my stomach clench-"penetrating trauma" and "severe vascular damage."

When the third critical condition notice was delivered, Lucian collapsed to his knees in front of the doctor with a sound that echoed through the corridor like a gunshot. My heart felt like it had been struck by a sledgehammer, the pain radiating through my chest.

As despair settled over the waiting area, a memory fragment suddenly surfaced in my mind.

"Wasn’t there a similar case at Murphy Hospital last year or the year before?" I grabbed Catherine’s arm, my voice quivering with urgency. "Get Dr. Mitchell here immediately. The one who performed that surgery."

Catherine stared at me blankly. "Which Dr. Mitchell? From our hospital?"

I bit back my frustration. Of course she wouldn’t know-Catherine’s interests had always revolved around social events rather than family hospital business.

Thankfully, Sean jumped in. "I know who she means," he said, gesturing for Catherine to follow him. "Miss Murphy, let’s go."

As I watched them hurry down the corridor, hope flickered inside me, quickly followed by crushing guilt.

Why hadn’t I remembered this sooner?

If I’d recalled it earlier, could Lucius have been spared some of this suffering?

They returned with Dr. Mitchell faster than I’d expected. The surgeon barely acknowledged us before being whisked away for surgical prep.

"Annie, how do you even remember things like this?" Catherine asked, standing beside me with genuine amazement in her eyes.

I shook my head, self-reproach twisting in my gut. "I should have thought of it sooner. I read a case report about a similar injury years ago."

Catherine squeezed my shoulder gently, her typically mischievous eyes now filled with compassion. "We’ve done everything we can. Now we pray.

And you need to think about those babies too."

I nodded, my hand instinctively finding my rounded belly. These little ones had been remarkably well-behaved, moving briefly earlier but now seemingly quiet, as if sensing my distress.

The operating room doors closed once again, plunging us back into the purgatory of waiting. Lucian stood like a statue, his vacant eyes betraying the depth of his concern for his brother.

Sean’s phone buzzed, breaking the heavy silence. "Ms. Shaw, there’s a swarm of reporters outside," he reported after answering.

Daniel and Sean immediately volunteered to handle the situation.

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "Not a word about Lucius’s condition can be disclosed, but everything else we should address honestly."

Daniel nodded firmly. "Understood."

Catherine’s eyes suddenly sparked with renewed energy. "I’m coming too. I want to see which media outlets have the audacity to cause trouble at a time like this."

I reached out to restrain her, recognizing that familiar Murphy fire.

"Hold on. Let’s assess the situation before we jump in."

Daniel’s POV

The moment Sean and I stepped through the hospital doors, we were ambushed by a blinding wall of camera flashes and shouted questions.

Despite the late hour-nearly eleven at night—the entrance to hospital was surrounded by reporters and social media personalities, their cameras and phones trained directly on us like weapons.

This wasn’t random media attention— someone had orchestrated this circus.

"Are you in charge of Paradise Valley Estates?" A man with fashionable glasses shoved a microphone in my face, his tone dripping with accusation.

"Reports say there’s been a serious accident due to Shaw Corp’s negligence. Care to comment?"

Behind him, livestreamers were already spinning their narratives, painting us as heartless capitalists who cared nothing for worker safety. The comments scrolling across their screens called for boycotts before we’d even spoken a word.

I stepped forward, taking the microphone from Glasses Guy. "T’m Daniel Davis, project manager for Paradise Valley Estates. First, I need to correct misinformation that’s spreading online: the worker is not dead. He’s receiving the best medical care possible. Please don’t be misled by online rumors."

"Sources say no supervisors were on site when the accident happened," Glasses Guy pressed, not backing down. "Does Shaw Corp acknowledge their management failures? Who would buy homes built by a company that disregards worker safety?"

I had to fight to keep my expression neutral. This guy wasn’t asking questions—he was making accusations disguised as inquiries.

"I completely reject your characterization," I replied, meeting his gaze directly. "My office is on-site.

While the accident occurred after regular hours, security personnel were present. We had no safety management lapses whatsoever."

I leaned closer to him, my voice sharpening. "T’d like to ask this reporter’ —were you present when the accident occurred? You weren’t there, yet you’re making baseless, leading statements? I stand by every word I say. Do you stand by yours?"

His confidence faltered momentarily. "I —I wasn’t there, but the accident happened, didn’t it? You can’t deny that."

Sean stepped forward, his tone measured but firm. "As a journalist your statements should be based on facts, not speculation. If we wanted to deny responsibility, why would we be standing here?"

He continued, his voice gaining strength. "After the accident, Daniel stayed at the site while I accompanied the injured worker to the hospital.

And our CEO, Anna Shaw, despite being five months pregnant with twins, came immediately and has remained here the entire time."

Sean moved closer to Glasses Guy.

"You know nothing about the facts, yet you’re spreading rumors. I seriously question whether you’re actually a journalist. Can you show us your press credentials?"

The man’s face twitched, but he recovered quickly. "If your CEO has been here the whole time, why isn’t she facing the public? Where is she?"

The livestreamers immediately joined the pile-on. "Yeah, bring out Shaw!

Otherwise, how do we know you’re not lying?" "Show us Shaw or admit you’re deceiving everyone!"

My heart sank. Anna was exhausted and in no condition to face this mob.

Sean tried to explain her condition, but Glasses Guy seized the moment.

"They’re lying!" he shouted triumphantly. "Shaw Corp doesn’t care about human lives! Paradise Valley Estates is a death trap! We should boycott everything Shaw Corp touches!"

I tried to remind everyone to lower their voices—this was a hospital, after all-but was immediately accused of trying to silence them. Glasses Guy grew even bolder.

"Why don’t you bring your CEO out here? Because she left hours ago, right? We can’t believe a word you say.

Is the injured worker even still alive?

Companies like yours never truly care about workers. We demand justice!"

As his tirade reached fever pitch, another reporter nudged him. "Hey, wait-someone’s coming out."

Sean and I moved aside as Anna emerged, supported by Rachel with Clayton following close behind. Even in her loose coat, her pregnant belly was unmistakable. Her face was pale from exhaustion, but her expression remained resolute.

Glasses Guy’s jaw dropped. "That’s impossible. I was told she left hours ago..."

"Who told you our CEO had left?" Sean’s voice was ice-cold. "Ms. Shaw has been here since we first received news of the accident. She hasn’t even had dinner except for sharing food with the worker’s family. Anyone here can verify that."

I noticed Glasses Guy trying to slip away through the crowd. I caught Sean’s eye and nodded slightly toward the retreating figure. Sean and Rachel immediately moved to follow him.

Anna’s POV

Daniel handed me the microphone with a subtle nod of encouragement.

Camera lenses zoomed in on my face, their predatory focus making my skin crawl. I straightened my posture, one hand instinctively shielding my belly as I faced the media vultures circling for a story. All those hungry eyes, waiting for me to break.

*You’ve faced worse, Anna. This is nothing.*

"Through the livestream, I’ve already been made aware of what happened here tonight," I began, my voice steadier than I’d anticipated. "I’m here to tell you that Shaw Corp takes full responsibility for every project and every person involved. Paradise Valley Estates represents our commitment to creating an exceptional living community. When safety incidents occur, we don’t hide-we act."

I paused, letting my gaze sweep across the gathered crowd. The twins shifted inside me, as if lending their strength.

"The injured worker is currently in surgery. I personally guarantee that Shaw Corp will spare no expense to ensure he receives the best medical care possible." My voice hardened as I continued. "However, I must strongly urge everyone not to believe the deliberately harmful narratives being spread online. Shaw Corp will gather evidence against media outlets and individuals maliciously spreading rumors, and we will pursue legal action."

I searched for a particular camera, staring directly into its lens, imagining my words piercing through the screen to whoever orchestrated this circus.

"Shaw Corp has already contacted law enforcement, as we suspect this incident may be deliberate sabotage and an attempt to smear Paradise Valley Estates. I trust the legal system will reveal the truth."

As I spoke, I watched the comment sections on nearby livestreams begin to shift. The paid trolls were scattering like roaches when the lights come on, their toxic comments overwhelmed by viewers expressing support.

Behind the camera’s view, my mind raced. This wasn’t just about Paradise Valley Estates-the real target was Skylake District. And I’d bet my entire fortune that George Simpson was pulling the strings. With the Murphy family backing me, who else would dare make such a desperate move?

My fingers tightened around the microphone. *I will not let them win.

Not now, not ever.*

When the commenter tide fully turned, I allowed myself a small breath of relief. "Thank you for your concern.

It’s getting late, so please disperse and take care." I handed the microphone back to Daniel, maintaining my composure until the cameras finally lowered.

Catherine appeared at my side, slipping a supportive arm around my waist. "Those vultures," she whispered, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Nothing but trashy tabloids doing dirty work for money."

"Can we trace them?" I asked, still riding the surge of adrenaline. "I want names."

"Difficult," Catherine sighed. "Some are just hired guns, and others aren’t even real journalists."

My phone vibrated in my pocket. The screen displayed a name that made me pause: Phillip Murphy. Catherine’s father rarely contacted me directly.