Chapter 4

As Anna complained through her tears, Marco's face darkened.

He strode over and looked me up and down, his gaze cold.

His eyes fell on the thick bandages around my right arm and the sling supporting it.

Marco frowned and turned to Anna.

"Dr. Hale, her hand is badly injured.

"Find another doctor to assist you.

"There's no point forcing someone who can't even hold a scalpel steady to assist in surgery."

At that, Anna went into a full-blown panic.

She rushed to explain, "No, Mr. Rinaldi, that won't work!

"Emma and I have worked together for years. We're perfectly in sync.

"She has to assist me if we want this surgery to have the best chance of success!"

Then her tone changed, and she shot me a sharp look.

"Emma has always been insanely jealous of my success as a doctor.

"She's obviously lying so she can back out at the last minute and make me look bad!"

My father immediately backed her up.

"Mr. Rinaldi, Anna's right!

"I watched Emma grow up. She's always been petty.

"That little injury on her arm is just a scrape. It won't affect her work at all.

"She's refusing to save him on purpose!"

Together, they painted me as a liar who was deliberately refusing to save a patient.

Marco was already on edge.

He believed every word, and the violent rage he'd barely contained boiled over.

Convinced I was trying to avoid the surgery, he yanked a black pistol from his waistband and pressed the muzzle to my forehead.

"I don't care whether you're hurt. Get in there and operate right now!

"Or I'll blow your head off right here!"

The cold barrel pressed against my skin, and a flicker of fear ran through me.

I hurried to explain, "Mr. Rinaldi! The ER doctor downstairs can confirm my injury—"

"Shut up!" my father barked, cutting me off.

"Haven't you embarrassed us enough? Get in there now!"

I looked into Marco's cold, cruel eyes.

Then I understood. He had set this whole thing up to kill his father and take his place.

He didn't care who was lying or whether I was hurt.

All he cared about was whether the surgery went according to plan.

If I kept resisting, I was dead. So I had no choice. With a gun pressed to my head, I let go of the handrail and walked through the OR doors as if they were the gates of hell.

The doors slammed shut behind me.

Anna dropped the wounded act in an instant.

She viciously slammed a scalpel down on the tray and tried to force me to operate.

"Hurry up! Put on your gloves!

"Pick up that scalpel and do the surgery for me right now!"

I took two steps back, my expression cold, and refused to touch a single instrument.

"My hand is badly injured. I can't hold a scalpel."

We were locked in a standoff.

Then the monitor beside the bed began blaring, its red lights flashing wildly.

The anesthesiologist cried out, "His heart's failing fast! His blood pressure's crashing!"

Panic seized Anna.

She was terrified that if anything happened to the old Don, the mafia men outside would tear her to pieces.

So she forced herself to go through with it, relying on scraps she only half remembered from her medical school textbooks.

Her hands shaking, she grabbed the scalpel, which smelled strongly of antiseptic, and began the emergency procedure.

Anna had no real surgical experience, and she was so nervous that the hand holding the scalpel shook like a leaf.

Her first cut was way off target.

The blade's sharp tip severed one of Don Rinaldi's major arteries!

Blood sprayed like a fountain, turning the entire OR red.

Anna went white and screamed.

In a blind panic, she hurled the bloody scalpel straight at my face.

Luckily, the scalpel only grazed my face, leaving a shallow cut.

I pressed my hand to the cut and was about to lay into Anna.

But she'd already shoved the OR doors open and bolted out like a madwoman.

Anna threw herself down in front of Marco in the hallway and wailed.

"Mr. Rinaldi! Emma's jealous of me, and she refused to follow my instructions during the surgery!

"She cut through his artery. She killed your father!"

Marco stormed into the OR in a rage.

The cut on my face was still bleeding, but I ignored it and desperately tried to explain.

"It wasn't me! My right hand is badly injured. I can't even hold a scalpel!"

But Anna and my father were right behind him, pointing at me and screaming.

"You're about to die, and you're still lying to save yourself!"

"You killed him!"

Marco's eyes burned with murderous rage as he flicked off the safety.

The black muzzle was aimed right between my eyes.

He was about to pull the trigger. My life hung by a thread.

Then the stairwell door burst open.

Dr. Dace, the doctor who had bandaged me downstairs, rushed in, panting.

Holding a prescription slip and a box of pills over his head, he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Emma! Wait!

"You have a severe wrist sprain with a partial ligament tear. You left the strong pain medication I just prescribed, along with your medical report, in the treatment room!"

In an instant, the whole room went still.

Marco froze with his finger on the trigger.

Anna and my father both went deathly pale!