Chapter 3 - The Ultimatum in Room 412Ten minutes later, we were barricaded inside Uncle Owen’s private recovery room on the fourth floor.
Uncle Owen—looking pale and frail, hooked up to a tangle of monitors—was asleep under a thin beige blanket. The rhythmic beep-beep of the heart monitor provided a steady, nerve-wracking soundtrack to the most intense conversation of my life.
Griffin stood by the window, his back to us, staring out at the Louisville skyline. His bodyguards were stationed outside the heavy oak door, blocking unauthorized access.
Rosie sat on a vinyl armchair in the corner, happily coloring a picture of a cat with a green crayon she had found in my scrub pocket. She was entirely unbothered by the tense, suffocating atmosphere.
“You lied to me,” I hissed, keeping my voice low so as not to wake the old man or alarm Rosie. I stood near the door, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. “For six years, I carried the weight of raising a child alone, working double shifts, eating instant ramen so she could have dance classes, while you were out there building whatever empire your father left behind.”
Griffin turned around slowly. His face was a mask of cold fury—not directed at me, but directed inward, at himself.
“I didn't know, Ren,” he said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly register. “If I had known you were pregnant, do you honestly think I would have stayed away? Do you think I would have let you struggle through this alone?”
“You left without a word!”
“To protect you!” he fired back, stepping toward me, his voice rising before he caught himself and glanced nervously at Rosie. He lowered his voice, stepping close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. “If they had known about you, if they had known I had a girl waiting for me in a small apartment in Louisville, they would have used you to break me. They would have put a bullet in your head just to send me a message. Walking away from you was the only way I could guarantee you drew breath every morning.”
“And what about now?” I challenged, my voice shaking with equal parts rage and lingering affection. “Your enemies are gone, right? You’re the boss now. You own the ledger. So what happens when someone decides they want your throne? What happens to Rosie then?”
Griffin stopped. His dark eyes pierced into mine, holding a terrifying promise.
“Nothing happens to her,” he said slowly, enunciating every word. “Because starting today, my entire life, every resource I command, and every weapon I control belongs to keeping both of you safe. You think I’m walking out of this hospital without my daughter? You think I’m going to let you go back to stressing over a four-hundred-dollar rent increase?”
I froze. “How do you know about my rent?”
Griffin pulled a small black smartphone from his pocket, unlocking it with a swipe. “Because twenty minutes after I saw you in the hallway yesterday, my legal team bought your apartment building. And your landlord’s mortgage. And the entire debt portfolio of your grocery store.”
I stared at him, my jaw dropping. “You... you did what?”
“You’re moving,” Griffin stated flatly, stepping closer. “Both of you. Into a secure estate off Mockingbird Valley Road. Starting tonight.”
“Like hell we are!” I snapped, my protective instincts flaring up. “I am not your prisoner, Griffin Hale! You can't just buy my life because you missed the last six years!”
Before Griffin could answer, the heavy wooden door of Room 412 burst open without warning.
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A tall man in a bespoke gray suit stepped inside, flanked by two armed men who didn't look like Griffin’s guards. They looked like rivals.
And the man leading them was holding a silver-barreled pistol aimed directly at Griffin’s chest.
