Chapter 6

The conference room was small, sterile, and quiet. Kailey sat on one side of the table, a glass of water in front of her. Jack sat on the other side, his sleeves rolled up, his eyes hard.

He had just sent the encrypted file to her tablet. He watched her scroll through the pages, her face giving nothing away.

She wasn't the woman he remembered. The Kailey he knew was quiet, submissive, a shadow flitting through the halls of his estate. This Kailey was solid, unmovable. She commanded the room without saying a word.

Finally, she looked up. "The tumor is aggressive," she said. "But it's operable."

Jack leaned forward. "Then name your price."

Kailey took a sip of water. "My condition is this: the surgery must be performed here, at New York General."

Jack's brow furrowed. "Why? The Velasquez Clinic has the best private suites in the country. Top staff, no waiting lists."

"Your clinic doesn't have the latest generation intraoperative MRI," Kailey countered. "For this type of glioblastoma, we need real-time imaging to ensure complete resection. If we leave even a microscopic piece behind, it grows back. The equipment here is superior for this specific procedure."

She placed her hands flat on the table. "And my team is here. I trust them. I don't work with strangers."

Jack's jaw clenched. He hated being told no. He hated that she was setting the terms. "I'll buy the equipment. I'll move your team. Name the price."

"It's not about money, Mr. Velasquez," Kailey said, her voice sharp. "It's about principle."

She stood up, towering over him for a moment. "First, I am a full-time employee of this hospital. My contract prohibits me from performing non-emergency surgeries at outside facilities. I won't risk my medical license for your convenience."

She leaned down, locking eyes with him. "Second, and more importantly, I only operate where the patient has the best chance of survival. Your money can't buy my professional judgment."

Jack felt a surge of anger, hot and swift. No one spoke to him like this. No one denied him. But beneath the anger, a grudging respect flickered. She wasn't intimidated by him. She wasn't swayed by his wealth.

"So that's a no?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

"It's a yes, if you transfer the patient here," Kailey said. "Those are my terms. Take them or find another surgeon."

She pushed the power button on the tablet, darkening the screen. The ball was in his court.

Jack stared at her, searching for a crack. He found none. She was a wall of stone.

He thought of Kristen, lying in that private clinic, getting weaker by the day. He thought of Arvil's dying wish. He had no choice.

"Fine," he spat, standing up so abruptly his chair scraped the floor. "I'll arrange the transfer."

He didn't say goodbye. He just stormed out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Kailey let out a slow breath. She sat back down, her fingers tapping a steady rhythm on the table. Round one was hers.