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Chapter 995:
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“No,” Donovan choked out, shaking his head. “It’s impossible. You fabricated this.”
Julian leaned forward. “Fabricated?” he asked, his voice deceptively soft. “These are digital logs and bank records, Donovan. They’re admissible in federal court. I imagine the Van Doren family can’t afford charges of money laundering and the illegal transport of hazardous materials, can they?”
Donovan’s last line of defense crumbled. He sank back into his chair, the blood draining from his face.
He thought of Eleonora’s panicked phone call. A dreadful, sickening suspicion began to form.
His hand trembled as he dialed her number and put it on speaker.
“Eleonora,” he said, his voice tight, when she answered. “Do you know Charla English?”
There was a beat of silence on the other end. A fatal hesitation.
“No, darling, of course not,” she said, her voice high and flustered. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
The lie was so transparent, so pathetic, it hung in the air like a foul stench.
Donovan’s heart turned to lead. He ended the call and closed his eyes, the weight of his family’s treachery crushing him. He looked ten years older.
When he opened his eyes again, the ruthless CEO was gone. Only a desperate father remained.
𝗥ea𝘥 𝘁𝗵𝘦 𝗹𝗮𝘁eѕ𝗍 𝘵r𝘦n𝗱s оո g𝖺𝗹n𝘰ve𝘭s.𝘤𝘰𝗆
“I’ll get you the antidote,” he said to Hilliard, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Just let my daughter go.”
Hilliard shook his head. “The antidote comes first. Once it’s been verified, then we can talk about Giselle.”
Donovan had no cards left to play. He stared at the tabletop, defeated.
“Alright,” he rasped.
Donovan pushed himself to his feet. He straightened his tie and smoothed the lapels of his suit, a man reclaiming a sliver of his shattered authority.
He looked Hilliard in the eye. “Six hours,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I will deliver the antidote here myself.”
As a gesture of good faith, he picked up his encrypted radio and spoke into it, ordering all his security personnel stationed around the hospital to stand down and withdraw immediately.
Hilliard exchanged a look with Julian, then gave a curt nod. The terms were accepted.
Donovan walked out of the lounge without another word, his back straight, his shoulders carrying an impossible weight.
After he was gone, Julian let out a low whistle. “That went smoother than I expected.”
Hilliard’s expression remained tense. He knew this was far from over.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the hallway. A woman screamed.
Hilliard and Julian rushed out of the lounge. The door to Giselle’s room was wide open. A nurse was running out, her face white with panic. “She’s coughing up blood!”
Hilliard sprinted to the doorway. Giselle was slumped over the side of her bed, her body wracked with violent, convulsive coughs. Bright red blood sprayed from her lips, staining the pristine white sheets.
Her body seized, her eyes rolling back in her head. The poison was accelerating.
Doctors and nurses swarmed into the room, pushing a crash cart.
.
.
.