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Misdiagnosis in andrology, My Billionaire Husband
img img Misdiagnosis in andrology, My Billionaire Husband img Chapter 6 6
6 Chapters
Chapter 7 7 img
Chapter 8 8 img
Chapter 9 9 img
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
Chapter 90 90 img
Chapter 91 91 img
Chapter 92 92 img
Chapter 93 93 img
Chapter 94 94 img
Chapter 95 95 img
Chapter 96 96 img
Chapter 97 97 img
Chapter 98 98 img
Chapter 99 99 img
Chapter 100 100 img
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Chapter 6 6

Two Weeks Later

The cardboard box was heavy. Jeanine taped it shut, sealing away four years of medical school memories.

She had graduated.

Thanks to a "generous donation" to the hospital board from an anonymous benefactor, she had secured a residency at Mount Sinai. It was the best program in the city.

She hadn't seen Conrad since the gala. He had been a ghost, a signature on a check, a name on a contract.

The monthly checks arrived on time. The NDA was still in effect. But the man himself had vanished. Jeanine told herself she was relieved. It was just a business deal. She had fulfilled her part; he was fulfilling his.

She dragged her suitcase onto the sidewalk outside the dormitory. She was moving into a shared apartment in Queens-cheaper rent meant more money for her mother's facility. The black card sat in her wallet, untouched, burning a hole in her conscience. She wouldn't use it for rent. She wouldn't be bought.

A screech of tires made her jump.

A massive black SUV swerved across two lanes and slammed on its brakes right in front of her, blocking her path. The tinted window rolled down.

Conrad sat in the driver's seat. He was wearing dark sunglasses and a t-shirt that stretched tight across his chest.

"Get in," he said.

Jeanine blinked. "What? I'm moving. I have a U-Haul coming in an hour."

"Cancel it." Conrad drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "It's my grandmother's birthday. We're going to the Hamptons for the weekend."

"You can't just show up after two weeks of silence and-"

"Read the contract, Jeanine. Clause 9: Availability upon request."

Jeanine groaned. She threw her suitcase into the back seat, which was already piled high with Hermes and Tiffany boxes. She climbed into the passenger seat.

"Here," Conrad tossed an iPad into her lap. "Study this. It's the family tree. Don't mix up Aunt Clara with Aunt Sarah. Clara hates liberals; Sarah hates everyone."

Jeanine stared at the complex diagram. "This is a nightmare."

Conrad merged onto the highway, driving with aggressive precision. "So, I hear you're the star resident in the ER."

Jeanine looked at him sharply. "You're watching me?"

"I'm protecting my investment," he said, staring straight ahead. "I saw the photo of you with Dr. Patel. The flowers were a nice touch."

"It was a birthday gift," Jeanine said, confused. "Wait, are you... jealous?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

Suddenly, the car jerked violently to the left. Conrad swore.

"Hold on!"

A nondescript gray sedan had sideswiped them. It wasn't an accident. The sedan swerved again, trying to ram them into the concrete divider.

Jeanine screamed.

Conrad didn't panic. His face went stone cold. He downshifted, the engine roaring. He slammed on the brakes, letting the sedan shoot past them, then spun the wheel. The SUV drifted, tires screaming against the asphalt, and shot into the exit lane at eighty miles per hour.

They skidded to a halt on the shoulder of the exit ramp, dust billowing around them.

Jeanine was hyperventilating, her hands clutching the dashboard.

Conrad reached under his seat. There was a metallic click-clack.

He pulled out a handgun.

Jeanine's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "You have a gun?!"

Conrad looked at her, realizing she was there. The cold killer look in his eyes vanished, replaced by a mask of calm. He quickly shoved the gun back under the seat.

"Permitted," he said quickly. "My consulting firm handles sensitive government contracts. Sometimes competitors get... aggressive. It's standard risk management."

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "It's me. Gray sedan, New Jersey plates. Mile marker 45. Find them. Clean it up."

He hung up.

Jeanine was shaking. "Who... who was that?"

Conrad reached over. His hand, large and warm, covered her trembling hands on her lap.

"Road rage," he lied. "Just road rage. You're safe."

He squeezed her hands. "I won't let anything happen to you. Okay?"

Jeanine looked into his eyes. She saw the violence lurking there, but she also saw something else. Fierce, terrifying protection.

"Okay," she whispered.

Conrad put the car in gear. But the air in the cabin had changed.

This wasn't just a business trip anymore......

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