Chapter 352
“Operate on Dallas,” Bella said, her voice steady. “Install the LVAD. The mechanical pump. Force his heart to keep beating.”
“That’s not a cure, Bella,” Vance said, leaning back against his desk. “It’s a bridge to nowhere if he doesn’t eventually get a transplant. And the procedure itself is high-risk given his weakened state. If I put that machine in him without his consent and he dies — or worse, sues —”
“He won’t sue,” Bella said. “And he won’t die. Not if you do it.”
“My insurance would drop me. The board would have my head. Why should I take that risk?”
“Because if you save him,” Bella said, “I’ll accept your offer. I’ll leave S&D and become the Executive Director of the Vance Medical Foundation. I’ll bring my network, my fundraising expertise — I’ll make your foundation the most prestigious cardiac research center in the country. I will build your legacy.”
Vance stood and walked around the desk until he was standing opposite her. He saw the determination in her eyes. This wasn’t a desperate plea — it was a business proposal. And a good one.
“You’d give up your position at S&D for him?” he murmured.
Bella closed her eyes. She thought of Dallas, dying alone to protect Eliza from a threat only he understood.
“He’s more than my boss,” she whispered.
Vance smiled — the smile of a man who had just closed a winning deal. “Done. Have your lawyer draw up the contract. I want it signed before he’s out of recovery.” He turned to his intercom. “Prep the OR. We’re installing the pump. He might hate us for it, but he’ll live.”
Eliza sat in Jeannine’s office. The air was cool and smelled of orchids.
𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴.𝘤𝘰𝘮
“I found a loophole,” Eliza said, sliding a paper across the glass desk. “The Greenwood Project is officially paused due to funding reallocation. According to the bylaws, if a project is paused for more than forty-eight hours, the lead staff can take unpaid leave without penalty.”
Jeannine looked at the paper. Eliza was right. Dallas had drained the Greenwood accounts yesterday to pay for something large and secret.
“You’re resourceful,” Jeannine admitted, signing the form.
“I’m desperate,” Eliza said. “Sign it.”
Jeannine handed the paper back. “Approved. Six months unpaid leave. You are free to go.”
Eliza took the paper. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders — free from the building, free from his immediate shadow.
“Thank you,” Eliza said.
She walked out into the sunshine. It felt cold on her skin.
Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number. It was Bella.
Eliza, please don’t hate him. He loves you. He’s doing this for you. He’s in surgery right now to save his life.
Eliza stared at the screen. Anger flared hot and bright.
He loves me? By divorcing me? By parading a mistress? By threatening Azalea? And now surgery? It sounded like another manipulation — another attempt to make her feel guilty for leaving.
“Lies,” Eliza whispered.
She deleted the message. She blocked the number.
I’m done with lies.
.
.