Chapter 3 - Desperate Measures
Two days after the disaster at the Bellamy, I was leaving a private research facility on the Upper East Side where I had begun setting up my new independent medical tech venture, Aegis Health.
As I walked toward the waiting town car, a figure darted out from behind a parked SUV.
"Eleanor!"
I stopped. Two of Ethan’s private security guards immediately stepped between me and the unkempt man approaching us. It was Marcus. His designer suit was wrinkled, his hair uncombed, and dark circles shadowed his bloodshot eyes.
"Let him speak, David," I told my chief security officer calmly.
Marcus stopped a few feet away, chest heaving. "You think you won?" he rasped, his voice full of venom. "You think bringing your billionaire owner and those... those hired kids proves anything?"
"They are my children, Marcus. And Ethan is my husband," I said quietly. "Something you never were."
"You ruined my life!" Marcus shouted, stepping forward, though the guards held their ground. "I built Whitfield Medical! I worked eighty hours a week while you sat at home crying over... over things that couldn't be helped!"
"I was recovering from a loss that broke my heart, Marcus. A loss you mocked," I replied, feeling no anger, only a strange, cold pity. "And you didn't build Whitfield Medical. You built a house of cards using my code, my patents, and my sweat, while forging my signature while I lay unconscious in an ICU."
Marcus’s expression shifted from rage to a sickeningly desperate smile. "We can fix this, Nora. Come on. You know how the board operates. Tell the federal prosecutors it was a mistake—a joint marital asset misunderstanding. I’ll give you thirty percent of the company. We can get rid of Celeste. Her father is useless anyway. It was always meant to be you and me!"
I stared at him, stunned by the sheer depth of his delusion. "You really are incapable of loving anyone but yourself, aren't you?"
"Nora, please—"
Before he could finish, a black sedan pulled up behind my car. The door opened, and Ethan stepped out. He didn't raise his voice, nor did he make a dramatic scene. He simply walked over, placed his arm securely around my waist, and looked down at Marcus with cold, razor-sharp disdain.
May you like
"If you come within a hundred yards of my wife again, Marcus," Ethan said softly, "the federal fraud charges will be the least of your concerns. I will buy out every debt your family name has accumulated over the last forty years and call them due by noon tomorrow."
Marcus swallowed hard, backing away slowly as he realized the absolute terrifying truth: he was completely, hopelessly outmatched.
