Chapter 2

I swiped to accept the call.

A voice both terrifyingly familiar and foreign came through the speaker.

"Dr. Moore? I’m Eleanor Moore. You should know who I am."

"I do."

"What do you want? Money? Prestige? Power?"

"Twenty million? Thirty million? I can wire it as an unrestricted gift today to pray for my partner’s recovery."

"I’m close friends with your board of directors. If you perform this surgery, you’ll be named Chief of Surgery by the end of the week."

"Think about it."

I said nothing.

She raised the stakes.

"On top of that, I’ll transfer private equity shares directly into your name..."

I let out a soft laugh, cutting her off.

"Mrs. Moore, none of that interests me."

The line went silent for a few seconds.

"Then name your price."

I chuckled.

"It’s not about the money."

"I won’t operate on that man."

Eleanor scoffed, her patience wearing thin.

"You won't?"

"My sources tell me you’re the only surgeon on the continent qualified to implant this specific model. And now you tell me you won’t?"

"Are you playing games with me?"

Realizing she still needed something from me, she forced her tone back down.

"Look. Save Julian."

"I will give you five percent of the Moore Corporation's core equity immediately."

"That is more money than you could make in ten lifetimes."

I repeated myself, steady and slow.

"Mrs. Moore. It’s not about money."

"Then what the hell is it about?!" Eleanor finally snapped, her voice piercing through the speaker. "You’re a doctor! Your oath is to save lives! Refusing him is murder!"

She took a ragged breath and sneered.

"My team looked into you."

"You bled for this project."

"You were so desperate for seed capital that you signed a brutal venture debt milestone agreement—one you still haven't paid off."

"You even tested biocompatible materials on your own body, nearly dying of anaphylactic shock in the lab."

"That loan matures this year, doesn't it?"

"The Moore Corporation dominates the biomedical supply chain. One word from me, and every single institutional investor will pull their money out of your lab."

"Your runway will vanish overnight."

"Your research, your career, your entire life—gone."

"Is that so?"

I smiled coldly into the phone.

"Don't lose any sleep over me, Eleanor."

"Because if I go down, the man you’re trying so desperately to save will die long before I do."

"Feel free to try."

The line went dead silent.

All I could hear was her heavy, ragged breathing.

"Who are you?" she whispered, paranoia creeping into her voice. "Do I know you? Did I cross you somewhere?"

Hearing no reply, her conviction hardened.

"I don't care who you are. You will do this surgery whether you want to or not!"

"You have three hours to prep the OR. If you aren't scrubbed in by then, you’ll regret ever being born."

"I’ll be waiting," I said softly.

I hung up.

The busy tone droned in my ear.

I wasn't afraid of her background checks. My security clearance on the defense-funded project classified my personal records under federal protection. She couldn't touch them.

I clicked open an encrypted folder on my desktop.

Inside was the evidence I had spent ten excruciating years piecing together.

The crime Eleanor thought she had buried deep in the dirt.

It was enough to shatter the Moore empire and drag both Eleanor and Julian straight into federal prison.

With a single click, their lives would be ruined.

I glanced at the torn photograph on my desk and whispered into the empty room.

"Dad. I know."

"Your heart must be so tired of beating inside that monster."

"Just wait a little longer."

"I still have a part to play."

"People only feel the impact when they fall from the highest peak."

"I want Eleanor to bleed just like we did. That’s the only justice that counts."