Chapter 4 - The Predator in the LobbyBefore Julian could answer, the heavy glass doors of the emergency room slid open again.
A chilling wave of damp evening air swept through the lobby, carrying the low, aggressive rumble of idling luxury engines. Three black Mercedes-Maybach sedans pulled right up to the ambulance bay, ignoring the "No Parking" signs.
Four men stepped out into the rain. They didn't wear hospital scrubs or raincoats; they wore bespoke Italian wool suits identical to Ethan’s, their shoulders broad, their expressions carved from stone. Leading them was Marcus Vance, the Senior Managing Director of Vanguard Global—and Ethan’s supposed closest corporate ally.
Marcus stepped through the automatic doors, shaking raindrops off his expensive umbrella with practiced nonchalance. His sharp, predatory eyes scanned the emergency room until they locked directly onto Ethan standing outside Trauma Room 3.
A slow, chilling smile spread across Marcus’s face.
"Ethan, my boy!" Marcus called out, his voice smooth and carrying across the quiet ward like silk over broken glass. "We heard about the charity donation and thought we’d drop by to finalize the paperwork early. Imagine our surprise finding you pacing outside an emergency room like an anxious schoolboy."
Ethan slowly stood up, letting the stolen dossier slip from his fingers back onto the floor. The grief in his eyes vanished in a single heartbeat, replaced by a cold, calculating fury that made Julian take an instinctive step back.
"Marcus," Ethan said, his voice dangerously low. "You're a long way from your penthouse in Manhattan."
"Well, business never sleeps, does it?" Marcus walked closer, his polished leather shoes clicking rhythmically against the linoleum. He glanced briefly at little Lily, who was still clutching her cup of apple juice, watching the men with wide, frightened eyes. Marcus sneered slightly. "And what do we have here? A stray street urchin? Really, Ethan, I thought your standards for philanthropy were higher."
Ethan didn't flinch. He stepped directly into Marcus’s path, blocking the other man’s view of the little girl.
"She has a name, Marcus," Ethan said, his voice dropping an octave. "And she is my daughter."
May you like
Marcus’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, though his eyes remained as dead and hard as sharkskin. "Your... daughter? Well, well. Life always finds a way of springing expensive surprises on us, doesn't it? Though, considering her mother is currently undergoing a rather... delicate craniotomy upstairs, I'd say your timing is remarkably tragic."
Ethan’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "How did you know she was having a craniotomy, Marcus? Dr. Reynolds hasn't released a public statement yet."
