Fortalejo Series 2: The Meticulous Fortalejo

I stared at Rick Ford's pathetic, carefully staged expression, and rage shot straight to my head.

"Do you even realize there's a human being dying in that ER? And you expect him to wait around for you?"

Rick flinched, then looked at Clara with wounded eyes, pretending to tremble.

Clara immediately jumped in front of him, blocking him, and jabbed a finger in my face. "Tommy, why are you yelling? Rick's sensitive!

"Besides, your father's old and sick anyway. His life's not exactly worth much. If he can't even hang on for a few minutes, then if he dies, it's just his time."

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over me, head to toe.

So this was how Clara really saw my father. Worthless. Beneath contempt.

But she forgot—my father was just a farmer, but he'd treated her like his own daughter.

When Clara's family's finances fell apart, and they were drowning in debt, my father emptied his life savings to bail her out. And now she had the nerve to call him worthless. To say he deserved to die.

I looked at her, my voice dry and cracking. "If it were your father lying in there, would you say the same thing? That he's old, worthless, and should just die?"

Before I even finished, Clara slapped me across the face.

Her eyes went wide as saucers, full of poison. "Tommy, how dare you curse my father? What kind of son-in-law are you?"

Rick chimed in softly, pouring gasoline on the fire. "Clara, don't be mad. I'm sure he didn't mean it… It's just… well, people always look out for their own family."

My cheek stung, but my heart turned to ice.

Just then, a young nurse ran in, panicked. "Dr. Connolly! The patient's blood pressure keeps dropping, and his heart rate's falling too. Please, you have to get in there now!"

I started for the door, but Clara blocked me, glaring at the nurse. "He's not going anywhere. Don't you have other doctors? Get someone else."

The nurse was almost in tears. "This surgery is extremely complex. Dr. Connolly is the only one in the hospital who can do it.

"Ms. Stevens, the patient is your father. Don't you want him to live?"

Instead of moving aside, Clara got even angrier. She shoved the nurse to the floor.

"Oh, so now you're making up lies to help Tommy, that fraud? My father's perfectly fine overseas. There's no way he got into a car accident. Let me make this clear—if Tommy takes one step through that door today, I'll break his hands."

I helped the nurse up and told her to wait outside.

Then I turned to Clara, calm and cold, and asked one last time.

"Clara. The person lying in there really is your father. Roger Stevens. Are you absolutely sure you won't let me go in?"

Rick immediately fanned the flames again. "Clara, see? He'd say anything just to get under your skin. That's just cruel."

Clara shot me a venomous glare. "Tommy! I'm giving you an order—today, you're not going anywhere except to fix Rick's face."