Chapter 2

Blaire's face darkened, her jaw tightening as she glared at me.

"Stop using that as a pathetic excuse! My uncle signed that suspension order, and I can have him revoke it right this second!"

She pulled out her phone and frantically dialed Vincent Donovan, screaming, "Uncle Vincent, Asher is refusing to budge. Talk some sense into him for me!"

She shoved the phone in my face, switching it to speakerphone.

Vincent's voice boomed through the speaker. "Asher, the hospital only penalized you to appease the patient's furious family. As a doctor, you ought to be the bigger person.

"Malcolm is in critical condition right now. Get back to the department and take over the patient immediately. If you manage to pull off a flawless surgery, I'll have someone revoke the suspension notice first thing tomorrow morning."

I looked into Blaire's bloodshot eyes.

"Dr. Donovan, the suspension period is officially two weeks," I said calmly into the phone. "If I stepped foot in an operating room right now, it'd be illegal."

Vincent's voice rose at once. "Asher, I'm the executive vice president of this hospital. If I say you can operate, you can operate! The hospital will take the fall if anything goes sideways. Don't push your luck when I'm being nice!"

"Alright." I nodded. "Draft an official letter right now. Have it stamped with both the hospital's official seal and your personal signature, stating that you assume sole personal liability for everything. Have it delivered to my house."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

Getting a bureaucrat to take accountability was like trying to pin jelly to a wall.

I slapped Blaire's phone away from my face and gripped the doorknob. "Until that document is in my hands, don't bother me."

With that, I slammed the door shut.

The roaring curses outside instantly doubled in volume and intensity.

That burly relative of the Pierces began kicking the door like a madman, making the old metal frame groan under the strain.

I returned to the living room, picked up my mug, and took a sip of cold coffee.

Just then, my new phone buzzed with several texts from Cole Barrett, an attending physician in cardiothoracic surgery.

"Asher, they brought a bunch of people over to your place. Whatever you do, do not open the door! Malcolm has an aortic dissection that's already torn into his brachiocephalic artery. He's in terrible shape."

"Ms. Sutton just lost her mind in the department, trying to force Dr. Aldridge to perform the surgery. He took one look at the angiogram and said that even if specialists flew in from Jorvia overnight, there's only a ten percent success rate. You're the only one in the entire state who can pull this off."

I quickly responded, "Do not touch that patient."

Cole immediately replied with a sighing emoji.

"Dr. Aldridge wouldn't even let him set foot in the operating room. He just issued a critical condition notice. Blaire's uncle is rushing to the emergency department. I think they're planning to drag you back by force."

Staring at the screen, I scoffed.

Drag me back by force? They really had some nerve.

Suddenly, the violent kicking outside stopped. It was instantly replaced by the roar of an electric drill.

Blaire's men were actually drilling out my lock.

Two minutes later, the lock cylinder was destroyed, and the door was kicked open.

Several men in black suits swarmed into the apartment, instantly blocking the entire entryway.

Blaire stepped inside, her heels crunching over the metallic debris scattered on the floor. A mocking sneer curled at the edges of her lips.

"Did you really have to make things ugly, Asher?" she said. "I couldn't care less about tearing this dump apart, but Malcolm doesn't have time to waste."

With a wave of her hand, two of the men stepped forward and seized my arms.

Margaret rushed in behind them, her eyes bloodshot as she pointed a finger at me and cursed, "You heartless animal! If anything happens to my son, I'll make the rest of your life a living hell!"

I didn't put up a fight.

"Coercing medical personnel through physical violence… Ms. Sutton, you truly have a knack for landing your uncle in hot water," I remarked.

Blaire scoffed. "Take him straight to the emergency department!"