Chapter Four

Richard's point of view: 

 "I couldn’t believe my eyes. Was I dreaming? Was this a nightmare? It felt like déjà vu—Laura on her knees in front of my father, all over again.  

‘What the hell is going on here?’ I roared, my voice echoing through the office as my fists clenched at my sides.  

‘Richard!’ my father exclaimed, springing to his feet. The woman remained where she was, kneeling on the floor, her head bowed.  

‘What is going on?’ I demanded again, stepping closer, my eyes narrowing on the woman in front of me.  

‘Elizabeth came for an interview,’ my father stammered. ‘She accidentally spilled water on my—’ His words faltered.  

Elizabeth?  

My gaze softened briefly as I waited for her to look up. Slowly, she rose, her face partially obscured by her jacket. But it didn’t matter—I knew her. The woman from the club.   

The memory of last night surged forward. I’d gone out of my way to ensure no man touched her, yet here she was, standing in my father’s office. Did she come to sell herself to him? My stomach churned.  

"Shameless," I spat, glaring at her with undisguised contempt.  

"A job interview?" I scoffed, disbelief coursing through me. "I never knew you hired cheap, shameless women, Father."  

Elizabeth flinched at my words but didn’t say anything.  

"It’s not what you think," my father began to explain, but I cut him off sharply. "You don’t need to explain, Father. I know her." My gaze remained fixed on Elizabeth as I continued, my voice dripping with disdain.  

"I’ve seen her at the club. She’s a shameless woman who would do anything for money—just like Laura," I said, my words  intending to cut deep. 

Elizabeth’s shoulders stiffened, but she still didn’t defend herself.  

"Bending over in front of my father in hopes of seducing him?" I sneered. "Did you think your little club tricks would work here?"  

I glanced back at my father, disgust welling up inside me. "And you, Father—you haven’t changed, have you? I don’t care what kind of man you choose to be outside, but at least have the decency not to parade it where I’ll see it."  

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably beside him, her face pale and her hands trembling. I took a deep breath, my anger boiling over.  

"Don’t you have any shame?" I roared. "Get out!"  

My voice echoed in the room, startling Elizabeth. She rushed out without looking back, and the door slammed shut behind her.  

I turned to my father, my expression etched with disgust. "You’re pathetic," I muttered before walking out of the office.  

*********

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I buried myself in work, trying to erase the image of Elizabeth from my mind, but it clung to me, haunting me.  

When I got home that night, the solitude only amplified the memories. "She looks just like Laura," I hissed, pacing the room. Her resemblance to my wife was uncanny—the same piercing brown eyes, the same raven-black hair. It was as if Laura had been reincarnated in this young woman.  

But she wasn’t just like Laura in appearance. She behaved like her too—cheap and shameless. My fists clenched as the bitterness surged.   

I picked up my phone and dialed Maxwell, gripping the device tightly as I paced the room. He answered on the second ring.  

"Max," I began, my tone sharp. "I saw the girl again. Did the club owner tell you anything about her?"  

There was a pause on the other end, followed by Maxwell’s hesitant voice. "Yeah, he did. I just don't think, you should waste your time on her, her life is pretty pathetic always"

"Just tell me," I snapped, my patience wearing thin.  

"Alright," Maxwell said with a sigh. "Her name’s Elizabeth James. She’s an orphan, no family, except a  a younger sister named Jessica who’s in bad shape—dying from pneumonia, apparently. Needs surgery, a thoracotomy, I think." He paused again, as if debating whether to continue.  

"And?" I pressed, the knot in my chest tightening.  

"Her sister’s admitted to one of your family’s hospitals," Maxwell continued. "They need fifty grand for the treatment, but she hasn't  paid anything yet. From what I heard, the doctors are planning to discharge her tomorrow if they don’t get at least a deposit."  

"Tomorrow?" I repeated with a smile, an idea beginning to form in my mind. It was a sinister idea, It was terrible. Cruel. But I let it linger.  

"Yeah," Maxwell confirmed, his voice quieter now. "It’s a bad situation, man. The kid’s barely hanging on. I think that's why she is working so hard...."  Maxwell tried to justify it, but I cut him off. 

"That’s enough," "Thanks for the information."  

"Richard, she is not Laura, please don't do anything..."  

I ended the call before he could say more.  

As soon as the call ended, I dialed Rosaline, the manager of the hospital. 

"Sir, good evening," she greeted.  

"Rosaline," I said, "I need you to check your records for a patient named Jessica James. Pneumonia case. She’s scheduled for a thoracotomy as soon as payment is made, Confirm she’s there.""

‘One moment, sir,’ she replied. There was a pause as she pulled up the information. After a brief pause, her voice returned,

 "Yes, sir," she confirmed. "She’s here. Her Critical condition, but the family hasn’t made any payments yet" 

"Good," I replied coldly. "I want you to discharge her immediately."  

 "Discharge her? Sir," her voice came in with a crack. 

"You heard me" 

"But, sir—" she tried to protest but I cut her off

"The hospital is not a charity. If they can’t pay, then we can’t treat them. Make the arrangements and have them leave by tonight."    

There was a beat of silence before she responded. "Yes, sir," her voice came out defeated, almost like a whisper.  

"Good," "Let me know once it’s done."