Chapter 206
[ 529 words ]
Chapter 206:
Caroline read the text twice. A sharp pang of guilt hit her chest. He was so incredibly normal and kind. But beneath the guilt, there was a massive wave of relief. If she had gone on that date, Jarrod’s “Code Black” security team would have been watching every second. She had just avoided a potential disaster.
She set the phone down on the bench and reached for her water bottle.
Suddenly, the internal phone on the breakroom wall buzzed loudly. Caroline flinched. One of the junior nurses poked her head through the door.
“Caroline? Line two for you,” the nurse said. “Says it’s urgent.”
Caroline frowned and walked over to the beige plastic phone mounted on the wall. She picked up the receiver. “This is Caroline.”
“Miss Thompson,” a voice said.
𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰m𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗱 𝘨𝗮𝗹ո𝗈𝘃𝖾𝗅𝘀.𝘤𝘰𝗺 𝘵o у𝗼𝗎𝗿 𝗳𝗿і𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀
It was a male voice, elderly, with a crisp, perfectly enunciated British accent. It sounded completely devoid of warmth.
“This is Carson Finch,” the voice continued. “Head butler of the Romero estate.”
The name “Romero” hit Caroline’s brain like a physical electric shock. Her spine snapped straight. Every operative defense mechanism in her body instantly activated.
“General Augustus Romero formally invites you to join him for dinner at the estate this Saturday evening,” Finch stated. It wasn’t a request. It was a royal summons.
Caroline’s mind raced. The pieces clicked violently together. The malicious schedule from Finchley. The sudden invitation from the General. She assumed it was a coordinated, two-pronged attack. They were trying to exhaust her physically, then crush her psychologically.
“Mr. Finch,” Caroline said, injecting a tone of polite exhaustion into her voice, “I appreciate the invitation. However, I am scheduled to work a sixteen-hour shift on Saturday. I won’t be off until eight o’clock at night. I will be unavailable.”
Finch did not miss a beat.
“The General is a very patient man, Miss Thompson,” Finch replied, his tone hardening into absolute steel. “He will wait. A car will be waiting for you at the hospital’s rear exit at exactly eight o’clock.”
Caroline’s grip on the phone tightened. She was backed into a corner. If she refused, it would show weakness. It would prove she was terrified of them.
She couldn’t run. She had to fight.
Caroline dropped the polite nurse persona. Her voice turned into a blade of pure ice.
“Tell the General I will see him at eight-thirty,” Caroline said.
She hung up the phone.
She stood alone in the breakroom, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was about to face the most terrifying weekend of her life. She had to survive thirty-two hours of physical torture in the ER, and then immediately walk into the lion’s den to face the most powerful man in Washington.
And she had to do it completely alone, while her husband was missing in a war zone.
Caroline closed her eyes and took a deep, tactical breath. She pushed the fear down into a dark box and locked it.
She opened the breakroom door and walked back out into the ER, ready for war.
Saturday morning. 6:00 a.m.
The automatic doors of the Emergency Department slid open, vomiting a constant stream of paramedics and bleeding patients into the triage area.
Caroline moved through the chaos like a machine, her face a mask of absolute, terrifying focus.
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