The guard frowned but nodded. When they arrived, the guards waited outside the gynecology wing. Cora walked into the restroom, climbed out the ground-floor window, and sprinted across the courtyard to the main outpatient building.

She pulled a surgical mask over her face and put on her sunglasses. She navigated the maze of corridors, clutching her phone with the photo of the medical report, desperately searching for the hematology department.

She pushed open the door to a consultation room at the end of the hall.

She froze. Sitting behind the heavy oak desk, wearing a pristine white doctor's coat and gold-rimmed glasses, was Cayden.

He looked up from his charts. A flash of genuine shock crossed his face, but he instantly stood up and locked the door behind her.

Cora ripped off her mask. She marched up to his desk and shoved her phone in his face.

"What does this mean?" she demanded, her voice shaking uncontrollably. "Is Kendrick sick? Does he need my bone marrow? Is he going to drain me dry?"

Cayden looked down at the screen. When he saw the matching codes, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek. He couldn't believe Kendrick had left a paper trail.

But he couldn't tell her the truth. If she knew she was a farm animal for the Yates family, she would panic and get herself killed.

Cayden pushed his glasses up his nose. He leaned back in his chair, adopting the cold, detached tone of a medical professional reviewing a stranger's file.

"This is a standard preventative health evaluation, Cora," Cayden lied smoothly. "Nothing more."

"You're lying!" Cora yelled, pointing at the screen. "It says 'stem cell depletion'! Why are you lying to me?!"

Cayden slammed his hands flat on the desk. He leaned over the wood, invading her space. The playful arrogance was gone, replaced by a terrifying, lethal intensity.

"Stop using your pathetic, microscopic brain to dig into consortium secrets," Cayden hissed, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "If you keep asking questions about this report, you won't just ruin your marriage. You will end up in a body bag."

The pure murder in his eyes made Cora's breath catch. She stumbled backward, her spine hitting the heavy wooden door.

Cayden saw the raw terror in her eyes. His chest tightened painfully, but he forced his face to remain a mask of stone.

He grabbed a prescription pad, scribbled an address on it, and shoved it into her trembling hand.

"If the day comes when you realize you can't survive in that house anymore," he whispered, "go to this address. Ask for Joe."

Before Cora could process the words, violent pounding shook the door.

"Madam! Open the door!" the security captain roared from the hallway.

Cayden moved instantly. He grabbed Cora by the shoulders, pulled her close, and violently messed up her perfectly styled hair. He ripped her dress slightly off her shoulder.

The door burst open. The guards flooded into the room, drawing their stun guns.

They stopped dead in their tracks, staring at the highly compromised, intimate position of the doctor and the billionaire's wife.

Cayden threw his hands up in the air, a sleazy grin spreading across his face. "Whoa, boys! The beautiful lady walked into the wrong room and practically threw herself at me. I'm innocent."

Cora realized what he was doing. He was using a moral scandal to cover up the fact that she was investigating the medical report. She bit her tongue, lowering her head to play the part of the caught, panicked wife.

The security captain glared at Cayden with disgust. He grabbed Cora roughly by the bicep and dragged her out of the room.

As she was pulled down the hallway, Cora looked back over her shoulder. Cayden was watching her. The sleazy grin was gone, replaced by a look of profound, agonizing regret.

The guards shoved her into the back of the SUV. The captain immediately keyed his radio. "Mr. Pope. We have a situation at the hospital."

Cora clutched the crumpled prescription slip in her fist. Her mind was a chaotic, terrifying mess.

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Chapter 9

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