Chapter 6 - THE FINAL DIAGNOSISThe federal bailiffs didn't waste time.
Esteban Mena tried to reach for his briefcase, but a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder. Click. The cold steel of handcuffs wrapped around his wrists.
"Dr. Esteban Mena, you are under arrest for medical malpractice, falsification of institutional records, and grand larceny," the lead bailiff announced, reading him his rights as he yanked Esteban’s arms behind his back.
Esteban glared at Julián with venomous hatred as he was dragged toward the double doors. "You think you've won, Julián! You're an old man with a stitched-up gut! Without me, this hospital will collapse in six months!"
"Without you, Esteban, our infection rates are going to drop by fifty percent," Julián replied calmly.
Rebeca was sobbing uncontrollably now, her pristine facade completely shattered as her own set of legal notices were handed to her by the state auditor. As she was escorted out of the executive suite, she looked back one last time, begging for mercy that would never come.
The heavy doors clicked shut. Silence returned to the boardroom.
Camilo Duarte let out a long breath, loosening his tie. "Well, that was more dramatic than a telenovela, Julián. Are you sure you shouldn't be back in the ICU? Your color looks terrible."
"I'll rest when the corporate restructuring is finished," Julián said, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked the bustling Puebla morning traffic.
Clara Mendoza walked up beside him, holding a small paper cup with his afternoon medication and a glass of water. She handed them to him without a word.
Julián took the pills, swallowed them, and handed the cup back.
"You know," Clara said, looking out at the city skyline with him, "for a man who just survived major abdominal surgery and a corporate coup attempt, you look remarkably relaxed."
"Why shouldn't I be?" Julián smiled, a genuine, warm expression touching his eyes for the first time in months. "I just got rid of a malignant tumor and an ungrateful wife on the exact same day. My prognosis has never been better."
Clara chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You're incorrigible, Doctor Robles."
"And you promised me dinner," Julián reminded her, turning to look at her. "As soon as I'm discharged. No hospital talk, no board meetings, no legal files."
May you like
Clara raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge dancing in her eyes. "Only if you can walk past the hospital cafeteria without telling the head chef how to run the kitchen."
"Deal," Julián laughed.
