Chapter 4

One by one, the Harrisons left. Each one sneered at me as they passed.

"So this is Fiona's secret husband? Looks decent, but what a snake."

"Almost killed Steven. It's a miracle they still keep him around."

I don't know how long I knelt—my knees had long since been ground raw through my pants.

The night wind cut through my thin shirt like a blade.

My slapped cheek was swollen, my lips cracked from thirst. I was a wreck.

At 11:20 p.m., my phone rang.

It was the hospital.

My heart seized. I scrambled to answer.

"Mr. Wilson, your grandmother has gone into acute heart failure post-op. She's in critical condition! We need you here to sign the paperwork!"

"And... two hours ago, Harrison Group's office called. They withdrew her private suite privileges and downgraded her to standard care..."

"Your grandmother was moved out of the ICU to the emergency hallway. The shock must have—"

My mind went blank.

The line went dead.

I tried to get up, but Fiona's guards shoved me back into the mud.

Without her orders, I was trapped.

I fought, screaming like a madman.

"My grandmother is dying! I have to see her! Let me go!"

The guards looked shaken. They called Fiona for instructions.

Her cold voice echoed through the phone.

"Kyle Wilson, actions have consequences. Stop using your grandmother to manipulate me."

"Kneel until Steven's welts fade. Then I'll reinstate her room privileges."

"If you behave, she'll stay in the best suite."

The line went dead.

She had been using my grandmother's life as a leash.

Tears streaming, I slammed my forehead against the stone steps. Blood dripped down my brow.

"Fiona—please! Let me see her! She raised me alone—I've never asked you for anything—I'm begging you!"

"Punish me, not her! I'll do anything—just let me go to her!"

The manor doors opened.

Fiona stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring down at me like a stranger.

Steven leaned against her, his face slathered with ointment, grinning like the devil.

"Whoa, look at that—the great Kyle Wilson begging. My scalp is tingling."

Fiona crouched and lifted my chin with one finger, inspecting me like a piece of meat.

"Who are you performing for, Kyle?"

"The doctors are ours. The room is ours. Your grandmother is fine."

"Stop trying to dodge accountability. When Steven's welts clear, you can go."

She stood, smoothed her dress, and walked back inside.

The heavy doors closed, shutting out the warm, golden light.

I collapsed, chest heaving. Tears and blood mingled on the ground.

At 4 a.m., Steven's welts finally faded.

Fiona opened the doors and looked down at me.

"Get up. You've done your time."

"Remember this lesson—next time, know your place."

I scrambled to my feet and ran—raced to the hospital.

The emergency hallway was packed.

I spotted Grandma from a distance. She lay on a gurney in the open corridor, no curtain, no privacy.

The EKG showed a single, flat line.

"Resuscitation failed. Time of death: 5:17 a.m."