Page 69 of Billionaire’s Ruin

He didn’t argue this time. He just stood, brushed imaginary dust off his coat, and stormed out—his silence louder than any insult he could’ve thrown at me.

Maybe I went too far, I thought briefly, but no—he had it coming. Just because I had the gall to be both young and in charge.

Nearby, a doctor with a neat ponytail and a nervous smile caught my eye. “You,” I said, pointing at her. “Sign this form, and you can have his job.”

Her eyes widened, but she grabbed the pen with surprising speed. Nurse Anu, who had been quietly standing behind me the whole time, slid the form forward. The woman signed it with a grin so wide it almost made me laugh.

Later, with the printed report in hand, I finally had a moment to breathe—or tried to. The hallway lay silent, save for the low hum of the hospital lights. I stared at the bloodwork, the numbers glaring up at me like flashing warning signs.

Anu had already seen them. I could tell by how quickly she’d slipped away, muttering something about checking on another patient. No one wanted to be the one to say it out loud.

Pacing the corridor, I reread the results again and again, praying there’d been some mistake. But the numbers don’t lie. Dannie’s temperature had spiked again—forty degrees. The infection was spreading fast.

That was why I’d pushed for this test in the first place. My instincts had screamed that something was wrong.

Now I had proof.

High CRP, white blood cell count through the roof, liver toxins climbing fast, red blood cell count plummeting—forty percent lower than it was this morning.

Dr. Chan’s delay could have cost us precious hours.

And as much as I tried to push the thought away, I couldn’t help it. If Dannie didn’t make it, I’d never forgive myself for letting his arrogance get in the way.

“I’m guessing it wasn’t what you wanted to see?”

Nurse Anu was back, holding out a small cup that smelled faintly of roasted beans and cheap machine foam.

“Nope,” I said, popping out the “p” a little too loud. “What is it?” I gestured toward the cup before taking a sip.

“Cappuccino. I figured you wouldn’t like your coffee black, but I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee.”

“Thanks. This is perfect.” I smiled tiredly. I didn’t even care that it was lukewarm, half foam, half sugar. At this point, caffeine was caffeine, and I needed it like oxygen.

“I just want to say…” She grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What you did earlier—that was really cool.”

“What was?”

“The thing with Dr. Chan.”

A soft groan escaped as I shook my head. “No, not really. I’m sorry you had to see that. It was unprofessional.”

The words felt like a confession. That wasn’t me—not the me I used to be, anyway.

I wasn’t a reckless person.

Slap.

The sound echoed in my head—the car crash, the desperate act I’d done to lure Kai out not too long ago flashed before my eyes.

“I’ve never seen anyone stroll in and buy a hospital just because her husband is sick,” Anu said with a teasing lilt.

The joke hit too close.

“Dannie isn’t my...” The words stalled on my tongue. It was easier to let her believe it. Let the world think I was the kind—or crazy—woman who bought a hospital for love, not out of guilt, or fear, or some tangled mix of both. What would it sound like if I told her the truth?

“And it wasn’t me who bought it,” I said quickly, needed to correct something. “It was the hospital group I worked for.”

“Oooh…kay.” The word stretched from her lips, disbelief lacing every syllable. A thin, polite awkwardness settled between us.