Chapter 4 - The Sinking Ship
Dr. Whitfield scrambled backward, his heel catching on the edge of the Persian rug, sending him crashing hard onto the floor. His breath came in ragged, panicked gasps as he stared at the man who was supposed to be a vegetable.
"That's... that's impossible," Whitfield stammered, scrambling to his feet with shaking hands, his eyes darting wildly toward the door. "The dosage... the brain trauma... you shouldn't even be conscious for another month!"
"Science is a wonderful thing, Doctor," Everett said, his voice steadying by the second as he forced his rigid muscles to obey his will. He slowly propped himself up on one elbow, the IV lines pulling taut against his skin. "Especially when you have a nurse who knows how to read a chart better than the man writing it."
Whitfield lunged for his leather case, desperate to grab his things and run, but before his fingers could touch the handle, the heavy oak bedroom door swung wide open.
Mr. Crowley stood in the doorway.
The estate manager wasn't holding a tray or a ledger. In his right hand, he held a heavy, pearl-handled Colt revolver, pointed squarely at Dr. Whitfield’s chest.
Whitfield froze, his hands hovering mid-air. "Crowley! What is the meaning of this? Sterling authorized—"
"Mr. Kane never authorized anything of the sort," Crowley interrupted, his voice calm, flat, and chillingly polite. He stepped into the room, kicking Whitfield’s medical case across the floor with the toe of his polished shoe. "And Sterling Kane’s employment with this estate was terminated approximately three minutes ago."
Everett looked from the fallen doctor to his longtime manager. "Crowley."
"Good morning, Mr. Kane," Crowley said with a respectful nod. "It appears your hospitality was somewhat abused while you were resting. Shall I have security escort Dr. Whitfield to the basement vault, or would you prefer to handle the arrangements personally?"
"Lock him in the security wing," Everett commanded, his voice carrying the absolute authority of a man who owned half the city. "And bring Sterling up here. I want my cousin to explain why he tried to murder me in my own bed."
Willa stood quietly by the window, watching the machinery of the Kane empire spring back to life at a single word from the man she had married less than forty-eight hours ago.
Everett turned his head slowly, his stormy gray eyes finding hers across the room. The cold, ruthless predator who terrified Chicago was gone, replaced by a man who looked at her with an intensity that felt entirely personal.
"Come here, Willa," he said softly.
May you like
She walked slowly to the side of the bed, her hands resting calmly on the edge of the mattress.
"You kept your promise at the altar," Everett murmured, reaching out to gently touch her knuckles with his thumb. "Now it's my turn to keep mine. Your mother’s medical bills are paid in full, your nursing license is being reinstated by federal court order as of this morning, and anyone who ever dared to laugh at you in this house is about to learn what happens when you cross a Kane."
