Chapter 7

"Are you out of your mind?!" Eleanor shrieked, jumping up from her leather seat. She pointed a trembling finger at Camden. "You want to kill him faster? That is an FDA-approved Level-4 sterile pod! If you break the seal, the infection risk is one hundred percent! I will hold you legally responsible!"

Tess nodded frantically, her Chanel shawl slipping off her shoulders. "Camden, please! You're grieving! You can't let some voodoo street rat experiment on your grandfather!"

Cole, Camden's personal assistant, stood by the pod. His hand rested casually on the grip of his holstered pistol. He didn't look at the women; he only watched Camden, waiting for the final nod.

Camden ignored the screaming women. He kept his gray-blue eyes locked on Eloise.

Eloise sighed. The rain dripped from her eyelashes. She looked directly at Eleanor through the window.

"You don't care about a sterile environment," Eloise said, her voice projecting clearly over the storm. "You care about the Cayman Islands offshore account you opened last week."

Eleanor froze. Her mouth hung open.

"Two hours ago," Eloise continued, her tone surgical and precise, "you transferred twenty million dollars into a short-selling fund. You are betting that Barton Montoya dies in transit tonight. When the market opens tomorrow and Montoya Group stock plummets, you cash out."

Eleanor's face turned the color of ash. Her knees gave out, and she slumped back into her seat, her whole body shaking violently.

The air inside the cabin turned to ice. Outside, the mercenaries exchanged uneasy glances.

Tess clamped both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. She had just heard a corporate secret that could get people buried in concrete.

A terrifying, suffocating killing intent flooded Camden's eyes. He slowly turned his head toward his stepmother.

"It's... it's slander!" Eleanor stammered, her voice cracking. "She's a witch! She's trying to divide our family!"

Camden raised one pale, thin hand. The gesture was slight, but it instantly silenced the cabin.

"Cole," Camden said softly. His voice was gentle, but it carried the lethal hiss of a viper. "Escort Eleanor and Tess to the rear vehicle. If they attempt to step out of that car, break their legs."

"Yes, sir," Cole replied. He stepped forward, grabbed both women by the arms with brutal efficiency, and dragged them out of the ICU truck into the rain.

The heavy doors slammed shut. The cabin was now empty, save for the comatose Barton, Camden in his wheelchair, and Eloise standing at the threshold.

Camden pressed the joystick on his wheelchair, backing up half a meter to clear the path to the medical pod.

He looked at Eloise. "If my grandfather dies," Camden whispered, "I will chain you to that offshore account and sink you both into the Mariana Trench."

Eloise shook the water from her coat and stepped up into the cabin.

She looked down at him, her face completely blank. "Have your nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars ready. I don't take checks."

She walked past him, stopping in front of the massive, transparent intensive care pod. She placed both hands on the heavy metal latches.

Eloise took a deep breath. The dark purple light in her irises flared brilliantly.

She yanked the latches down. A loud hiss of depressurization screamed through the cabin as she ripped the sterile door wide open.