Chapter 365
After she sat, he filled her glass with a generous pour of whiskey and poured one for himself — a gesture meant to show respect.
“Dr. Kirk,” he began, his voice smooth and deliberate. “You likely understand my father’s condition better than I ever could.”
He tilted his glass, watching the ice swirl and click against the sides. “Even if the surgery works, do you really think he’ll live much longer?”
Rylie took a drink and nodded in approval at the taste. She sliced into the steak before her. “That’s not my concern. I don’t get to decide how long someone lives. My job is to keep them alive.”
Ableson leaned closer. The quiet whirr of his prosthetic leg was the only sound between them. “But it’s something a son has to weigh.”
His eyes locked onto hers. “Did you know the money my father spends on treatment could feed thousands of children every year?”
His voice lowered slightly. “When I visit the slums to hand out food and medicine, I start to question everything. Why invest so much to keep one man clinging to life — when he’s already been suffering for so long?”
The dim lighting flickered across his face, casting shifting shadows that blurred his expression. The staff had already slipped away, leaving them alone. Rylie gave him a look. “You’re running a crime network, right? Since when do you care about feeding orphans?”
Ableson chuckled and tapped his chest. “Even crooks have hearts.” Then he leaned in again. “So, will you help me? I don’t want my father caught in another power struggle. I want to shift my focus to helping those who really need it.”
Rylie placed her utensils down and picked up her drink again. She swirled the amber liquid in slow circles. “What exactly do you need from me?”
“One hundred million,” Ableson whispered, lowering his voice to a near growl. He slid a napkin across the table and drew an X on it with the tip of his finger. “All you have to do is make a little mistake in the operating room. Something subtle. Something that’ll look like it came straight from the top.”
He smiled, letting the words sink in before adding, “The funds will hit the Sorevia Bank account the moment you agree.”
Rylie let out a soft laugh. “With a hundred million dollars, even you could help feed thousands of children. But offering that kind of money to have a patient killed? That’s not exactly ethical, now, is it?”
She sidestepped his true aim — the target wasn’t Lochlan. It was her brother, Deandre.
Ableson suddenly let out a laugh, his voice bouncing off the empty walls. “No, no. You misunderstand. I was only referring to a possible — surgical complication.”
He leaned closer. The sharp scent of cologne drifted toward her, but there was something predatory beneath it. “The acting godfather took my leg. Two fingers. Stripped me of everything I was supposed to inherit. Now I limp through life. All I want is payback. It’s between us. You’re just the knife.”
He lifted his hand. Immediately, a few men behind him stepped forward, each carrying a silver case. When the cases were opened, they revealed thick stacks of bills, totaling two million.
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