Chapter 5

The hospital room door was pushed wide open. Two flustered nurses and a burly hospital security guard appeared in the hallway, their faces pale as they tried to assess the situation and control the escalating disturbance.

Broderick spun his wheelchair around. His face was purple with rage and embarrassment. "Get the hell away from my door!" he barked at the small group.

The onlookers muttered among themselves, intimidated by his aggressive tone, but they did not leave.

A low, dark chuckle cut through the tension.

The small group in the hallway stepped aside. A tall man, who had just lowered a sleek black smartphone from his ear, walked into the room. He moved with a slow, predatory grace. He wore a simple black turtleneck, but the fabric and fit screamed quiet, untouchable wealth.

Andre Kent stopped at the foot of Catalina's bed. He shoved his hands into his pockets. His dark eyes swept over the room, lingering on Catalina for a fraction of a second. A brief flash of warmth crossed his gaze before it turned to absolute ice as he looked at Broderick.

"A grown man screaming at his injured wife to give up her bed," Andre said. His voice was smooth, but the mockery in it was lethal. "That is a new level of pathetic."

He tilted his head and looked at Jami. "And you. If your headache is that bad, you need a psychiatric evaluation, not a surgical suite."

A few people in the hallway snickered. Jami's face turned a violent shade of red. She stepped behind Broderick's wheelchair.

Broderick gripped his wheels. "Who the hell are you? Get out of my room before I have you thrown out!"

Andre shrugged. "I am just a guy visiting a friend. But I really hate watching bullies throw their weight around."

Broderick sneered. He puffed out his chest. "Do you know who I am? I am Broderick Ramos. My family practically built this hospital wing."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I am calling Dr. Cromwell. I will have you and half this nursing staff fired."

Broderick dialed the hospital director's private number and put it on speakerphone. He held the phone up high for everyone to see.

The line rang twice before a stern voice answered. "This is Dr. Cromwell."

"Cromwell, this is Broderick Ramos," Broderick demanded. "I have a trespasser in my wife's room, and your staff is doing nothing. I want security here now, and I want this man removed."

There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Ramos," Dr. Cromwell said. His voice was freezing cold. "I just received a call from the board concerning a disturbance in the VIP wing. The Ramos family's minor donations do not give you the authority to dictate hospital operations, nor do they give you the right to harass other guests."

Broderick's jaw dropped. The phone trembled in his hand.

"Furthermore," Dr. Cromwell continued, his voice echoing clearly through the speaker, "if you continue to scream and disturb the peace in the VIP ward, I will have security escort you off the premises immediately."

The call disconnected with a sharp beep.

The silence in the room was absolute. The small group in the hallway erupted into loud, mocking laughter.

Broderick stared at his phone. His mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. The humiliation radiated off him in waves.

Andre let out a soft, insulting laugh. He looked down at Broderick with the kind of disgust usually reserved for stepping in garbage.

Catalina leaned back against her pillows. Her heart was racing. She looked at the mysterious man in the black turtleneck. A fierce sense of satisfaction washed over her.

Jami grabbed Broderick's shoulder, her nails digging into his shirt. "Let's go," she hissed, her face burning with shame.

Broderick glared at Andre, his eyes filled with venom, but he had no power left in this room. He was completely broken.