Chapter 9 - The Blood Contract
Z
Rain poured in relentless sheets against the windshield of the stolen rental car I had paid for with cash from an ATM. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel as I parked in the shadows across from St. Jude’s Hospital.
My head was spinning with the terrifying scope of the conspiracy. My father—the man who had held my hand when I was sick, the man who had cried at my bedside—had treated me as an expendable asset for an international biotech deal.
I pulled my coat hood over my head, slid a small scalpel I had bought at a pharmacy into my pocket, and slipped out of the car.
Using the hospital's service elevator, I bypassed the main security desk and reached the fourth floor. The ICU hallway was eerie and quiet, dimly lit by nightlights.
I tiptoed down the corridor until I stood outside Room 402. The blinds were drawn, but light flickered through the thin gaps. I pressed my ear against the wood.
"You should have died in that operating room, Nathan," my father’s voice came through the door, cold, calculated, and entirely devoid of the gentle warmth I had known my entire life. "It would have been so much cleaner. Maya would have inherited the shares, Victoria would have managed the trust, and the synthetic patent would have been secured."
"She knows, Arthur," Nathan's voice sounded terrible—raspy, weak, but sharp with defiance. "I left her the key... she knows what you did to her."
A heavy sigh echoed from inside. "It doesn't matter what she knows. Victoria’s team is tracking her right now. Once we transfer you to the clinic in Vancouver, we will extract the counter-enzyme strain from your bone marrow. Maya will have no choice but to comply if she wants to stay alive. Without the monthly counter-serum derived from your tissue, her body will reject that kidney in less than ninety days."
My breath seized in my chest. The kidney wasn't just a donor organ—it was a ticking time bomb. I didn't just need to survive; I needed the counter-serum to stay alive.
"You monster," Nathan choked out. "She is your daughter."
"She is my legacy!" Arthur snapped, his shadow moving against the frosted glass of the door. "I sacrificed everything for Vance Medical! I sacrificed my reputation, my marriage, my son's future! I am not letting a naive girl ruin a ten-billion-dollar enterprise!"
I couldn't take it anymore. The rage that exploded inside me burned away every trace of fear.
I threw the door open, slamming it against the wall with a deafening bang.
Arthur whipped around, his eyes widening in shock as he saw me standing in the doorway, soaked in rain, my eyes burning with lethal fury.
"Maya!" my father gasped, stepping back, his hands instinctively reaching for the briefcase on the bedside table. "How... how did you get in here?"
"Get away from him, Dad," I said, my voice dangerously calm as I stepped into the room and clicked the door locked behind me.
In the bed, Nathan was sitting up, hooked to IV lines and monitors. His eyes were wide with a mix of terror and profound relief. "Maya... no, you have to run! Victoria has men everywhere!"
"Shut up, Nathan!" Arthur yelled, pulling a small silver syringe from his coat pocket. "Stay back, Maya! Don't make me do something we'll both regret!"
"You've been doing things I regret for eight years!" I screamed, pulling the scalpel from my pocket and holding it out. "You poisoned me! You used me as a lab rat! You let me think I was dying of natural causes while you built a company on my suffering!"
"I did it to save us!" Arthur shouted, his face twisting into a grotesque mask of greed and desperation. "We were broke! Your brother's medical bills were drowning us! I took Vance's money to keep a roof over our heads!"
"You did it for yourself!" I took a step toward him, the scalpel gleaming under the ICU lights. "Give me the briefcase, Dad. Give me the records, or I swear to God I will cut your throat right here."
Arthur laughed—a cold, hysterical sound. "You won't kill me, Maya. You're too soft. You're just like your mother."
He lunged at me, lifting the syringe aimed directly for my neck.
I dodged to the left, but Arthur was heavier, slamming his shoulder into my chest. I crashed against the bedside table, medical equipment shattering onto the floor. My incision site flared with an excruciating, blinding white pain that brought me to my knees.
"Maya!" Nathan roared from the bed.
Arthur stood over me, his face red, his hands trembling as he pinned me to the floor, raising the needle toward my neck. "I'm sorry, sweetie. But you're coming to Vancouver. We'll fix your kidney there."
Suddenly, a loud, wet gasp filled the room.
Arthur froze. He looked down at his own chest.
Protruding from Arthur's lower side was the sharp end of an IV stand rod. Standing behind him, leaning heavily against the bed, was Nathan. He had ripped the heavy steel IV pole from its base, his surgical stitches tearing open, blood soaking through his hospital gown as he used the last drop of his failing strength to impale Arthur from behind.
Arthur dropped the syringe, coughing violently as blood spilled from his lips. He collapsed onto the floor beside me, his eyes rolling back into his head.
May you like
Nathan collapsed onto the bed, gasping for air, his face completely drained of color. "Maya..." he whispered, his vision fading. "The... the flash drive... call... call the FBI..."
Before I could reach him, the heavy ICU lock shattered. The door burst open, and three armed men led by Victoria Sterling stormed into the room.
