Part 2

Tears clouded my vision as I watched the emergency team hurry up the stairs to Beverly's bedroom. I was on the floor next to her, my heart racing wildly. I held my breath as I saw them remove her beautiful dress, working quickly and purposefully. They started to apply white bandages to her wounds, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. I felt frozen with fear and helplessness, entirely overwhelmed by the seriousness of what was happening. I had never experienced anything so terrifying before.

In the midst of the turmoil swirling in my mind, I could hear the detective's calm voice cutting through the chaos, urgently asking, "Is she the victim? How is she doing?"

The person they were referring to had been confirmed as a victim. We had caught her attacker, who was found sitting in his car just outside the building. He was taken into custody and then rushed to the hospital to treat injuries on his right shoulder, chest, and face. It seemed the victim had shown remarkable courage, fighting back against someone who appeared to be her boyfriend.

"I really hope she recovers. Losing her would be heartbreaking," someone said nearby.

"She's stable for now, sir. Thankfully, the emergency team arrived quickly. She lost a lot of blood," came the response.

As I watched them lift Beverly onto a stretcher and carry her away, my heart ached for her.

The bedroom was a mess. Photos lay scattered across the floor, their edges curling and colors fading. Happy memories were now mixed in with broken glass from their shattered frames.

One wall showed clear signs of violence, with a large hole suggesting someone had punched through it with incredible force. Dust and crumbling plaster surrounded the opening like a witness to the chaos that had unfolded.

A feeling of deep fear washed over me, and I worried about losing her. As the medical team wheeled her away, desperation surged within me. I held her fragile hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

"It's me, Mom," I whispered, my voice breaking with emotion. "Please, fight for us. I need you here with me." My words hung in the air, full of love and urgency, as they carefully took her toward the ambulance. The flashing lights created a surreal atmosphere, a distant promise of hope on a turbulent night.

In that moment, I felt the weight of a lifelong promise breaking inside me. "Mom. I can't make that mistake again," I murmured, looking around to ensure no one heard my slip. Twenty years ago, when I was just six, she had made me promise never to call her Mom, especially in front of others. I was supposed to call her Beverly. And as I grew up and took on the role of her assistant, I was to refer to her only as "boss."

Yet here I was, breaking that very rule as my emotions overwhelmed me. Tears streamed down my face as I continued to whisper, "Please don't go. I can't lose another mom." I kept repeating, "Hold on!" I kissed her hand as they lifted her into the ambulance, feeling as if every second was dragging by in a race against time.

"Is she going to make it?" I asked one of the paramedics.

"Her breathing is very shallow. Just trust us to do everything we can to keep her alive," was the reply.

I stayed by her side, praying, uncertain whether she would live or die.

**Later at the Hospital**

I glanced at the clock, feeling like the surgery was dragging on forever. "Please, God, let the doctors save her," I prayed silently.

Just then, a serious-looking police officer entered the waiting room. Even though I was hesitant about speaking to the police, I knew I needed to help them figure out who had hurt her.

"Excuse me, ma'am, would it be all right if we had a quick chat?" he asked.

I tried to wipe my tears away. "Yes, of course…" 

"Could you please tell me your full name?" 

"My name is Dynasty DuBois." 

"And how are you connected to the victim?" 

I hesitated, unsure if my response might raise suspicions. So, I chose to share only part of the truth. "Um, she’s my boss. Doctor, is she going to be all right?" 

The officer looked concerned. "Well, your boss has lost a lot of blood, and we were hoping you were a family member."

"I want to help if that can save her," I said urgently.

Before the doctor could answer, another police officer approached me and said, "Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Sure, but Doctor, will my Boss be okay?" 

"My team is doing their best to help her. We’ll talk to you after the surgery is over," the doctor replied.

"Please, just save her. I'll be right here," I pleaded.

The officer continued, "So, it seems you are very close to our boss?" 

"Yes, I am," I confirmed. 

"What kind of work do you do?" 

"I'm the Executive Vice President at Flawless Beauties, which is a matchmaking service." 

"Isn't that kind of like an escort service?" the officer asked skeptically. 

"No, sir! It’s a matchmaking company," I replied firmly.

"But isn’t it where women try to land wealthy men?" the younger officer chimed in as he entered the room. 

"Sir, we have a legitimate business. We help people find love; that’s it. Nothing more," I said, feeling hurt by their insinuations. 

"Well, at her home, it doesn't seem like there was a robbery. There was no sign of forced entry. It looks like she knew the man who tried to hurt her, but we didn’t find any useful evidence."

"Hmmm, he definitely knew the victim."

"You mentioned you arrested someone. Who is it?" I asked, listening to the officers argue. Their smug expressions made it clear they thought our work was pointless and didn’t respect what we did.

"Please have a seat; I didn’t catch your name," one of the officers said.

"Dynasty DuBois," I replied.

"I have a few more questions for you," the lead officer said while his partner continued jotting things down.

"Miss DuBois, do you know Nicholas Vinerelli?" he asked.

"No, I’ve never heard of him," I said.

"He wasn’t a client of your company?" he pressed.

"No, not that I know of."

"Could he have been dating your boss?"

"I don’t know. What does this have to do with anything? I want to press charges against him. He tried to kill her."

The way they looked at me made me feel like I was sinking in a deep current, far from safety, as if just breathing was becoming harder.

"You said the lady is your boss, correct?"

"Yes."

"Can you give us her full name?"

"Beverly Catchings."

I watched the two officers with tears in my eyes. One of them stepped away to take a call, and as he spoke, he said, "Another high-society scandal."

I rolled my eyes just as my phone rang.

"Dynasty!" Angela shouted. "Where are you? I'm about to lose it! The venue people are here to sign the contract for the charity ball! Did you forget?"

"No, you need to postpone that meeting, Angela. Beverly is in the hospital."

"Oh no, Ms. Beverly?"

My soft cry echoed in the silence, reaching Angela's heart. "Don’t worry; I’ll handle everything at the office."

"Thank you, Angela. I’ll be there as soon as I can."

"Take your time and focus on Beverly. I’ll pray for her recovery," Angela said, her voice warm.

Fear washed over me as I paced in the hospital waiting room, praying silently, "I’m not ready! She can’t die! Please, don’t let her die!" I wasn’t prepared to step into the big shoes of a leader in a multimillion-dollar company.

"Ms. Catchings, we have more questions," a detective said.

"Seriously? What more could you want to know? You’ve got the man who did this. Just let me know when I can press charges," I snapped, frustration boiling over.

Before Detective Cappuccino could respond, Dr. Park entered the room.

"Ms. Dynasty, the surgery went well, but Ms. Catchings is still unconscious. Now it’s time for her to find the strength to fight," the doctor said, his tone firm but full of concern.

"But doctor, this makes no sense! I just spoke with her!" I exclaimed, tears streaming down my face, my heart heavy with worry.

"I understand. But right now, she needs time; she just went through something really traumatic," he reassured me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I suggest you go home and rest a bit."

"Dr. Park, please take good care of her," I begged, my voice shaking. "And if anything changes, call me immediately, no matter what time it is!"

As I contemplated leaving the hospital, doubt twisted in my stomach. Could I handle a long, lonely night worrying about my mother, knowing she was fighting for her life so far away? Should I really leave the hospital? Would she make it through the night?