Chapter 2 - The Wrath of the Titan
Forty-five minutes later, the executive suite on the top floor of Rainier Memorial Hospital looked less like a medical center and more like a military command bunker.
Maxwell stood before the floor-to-ceiling glass, his phone pressed to his ear, his voice quiet, icy, and lethal.
"Rachel," Maxwell said into the receiver.
On the other end, Rachel Hayes, his Chief Operating Officer, exhaled in utter exasperation. "Maxwell! Where the hell are you?! The board from Tokyo has been sitting in Conference Room A for two hours! The merger—"
"Cancel the merger," Maxwell said flatly.
A heavy silence fell over the line. "What?" Rachel choked out. "Max, that’s a four-billion-dollar deal! It’s the culmination of your entire career!"
"Cancel it," Maxwell repeated without a shred of hesitation. "Or postpone it indefinitely. I don't care. I need you to perform three tasks immediately. If you fail, submit your resignation by midnight."
Rachel, recognizing the terrifying shift in her boss's tone—a tone he only used when he was prepared to obliterate a rival company—instantly shifted gears. "I'm listening."
"First, I want the top three pancreatic oncology specialists in North America flown to Seattle on my private jet within six hours. I don't care what surgeries they have scheduled; buy out their clinics, double their annual salaries, do whatever it takes. They report to Rainier Memorial, Room 412."
"Done," Rachel said, typing furiously on her laptop. "Second?"
"Second, contact my legal team. Tell Arthur Pendelton to draft emergency temporary guardianship papers for two eight-year-old minors, Lucy and Lily Winters. I want full custody transferred to me by tomorrow morning. If Child Services raises an objection, buy the agency or sue the state. Just get it done."
"Maxwell... whose children are those?" Rachel asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"My granddaughters," Maxwell said, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. "And third... I want a team of private investigators sent to my mother's estate in Bellevue. I want them to tear down the study floorboards in her old house. I want every personal safe, every storage unit, and every safety deposit box linked to Eleanor Donovan audited by midnight."
"Max... your mother passed away five years ago," Rachel reminded him gently.
"I know she's dead," Maxwell hissed, his eyes burning as he looked out over the rainy Seattle skyline. "But her secrets are still alive. And I am going to drag them into the light."
He hung up the phone and turned back toward the private waiting room he had cleared out for the girls.
Lucy and Lily were sitting on a plush leather sofa, eating warm soup and sandwiches brought up by the hospital's executive catering staff. A team of three security guards, personally assigned by Maxwell, stood outside the door, ensuring no one entered without permission.
Lucy set her spoon down as Maxwell entered. She looked at his tailored suit, his gold watch, and the sheer authority radiating from him.
"You're very rich, aren't you?" Lucy asked plainly.
Maxwell sat on the small wooden chair across from them, leaning forward with his hands resting on his knees. "I have a lot of money, Lucy. But today, I realized I am poorer than I thought."
Lily held her teddy bear tightly. "Are you going to take Grandma away?"
"No," Maxwell said softly, reaching out to gently touch Lily's small shoulder. "I am going to bring the best doctors in the world here to try and save her. And while they do that, you two are coming to stay with me."
Lucy’s eyes narrowed with that sharp, defensive intelligence she had inherited from her grandmother. "Why? You don't even know us. You're just a man from the street."
Maxwell felt a knot form in his throat. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a worn, black-and-white photograph he had kept in his wallet for thirty years—a photo of eighteen-year-old Elizabeth standing under an oak tree, smiling at the camera.
He handed it to Lucy.
Lucy looked at the photo, then at her sister. "That’s Grandma. When she was young."
"Yes," Maxwell whispered. "Her name was Elizabeth. And thirty years ago, I loved her more than anything in this world. I never stopped loving her."
Lucy looked up from the photo, her green eyes locking onto Maxwell's. "If you loved her so much... where were you when my mommy was born? Where were you when my mommy died?"
The question struck Maxwell like a blade through his chest. He didn't flinch. He didn't offer a corporate excuse. He looked his granddaughter in the eye and bore the full weight of her judgment.
"I was lied to," Maxwell said truthfully, his voice trembling. "Bad people kept us apart, Lucy. They stole my daughter from me. They stole your mother from me. And I spent thirty years in the dark, believing a lie."
He reached out, placing his warm, trembling hands palm-up on the table between them.
"I cannot fix the past," Maxwell said, tears swimming in his eyes. "I cannot bring your mother and father back. But I promise you, on my life, I will spend every second of the rest of my days making sure you and Lily are safe, loved, and protected. Will you give me a chance to prove it?"
Lucy looked at her sister. Lily nodded softly, leaning her small head against Lucy’s arm.
Slowly, Lucy reached across the table and placed her tiny, warm hand into Maxwell’s large, calloused palm.
"Okay," Lucy whispered. "But you have to save Grandma first."
"I will give everything I have to try," Maxwell promised.
Suddenly, the door to the waiting room burst open.
May you like
Dr. Aaron Reeves rushed in, his face pale, his breath ragged.
"Mr. Donovan!" Dr. Reeves gasped. "You need to come to Room 412 right now! Mrs. Winters’s vitals are crashing—and there’s someone inside her room claiming to be from the State Department!"
