Chapter 70
Blake’s POV
The door closed behind Michael with a decisive click, leaving the vast expanse of room unnaturally quiet. Through the floor–to–ceiling windows, I watched my assistant’s figure hurry after Audrey’s retreating form, leaving me alone with Laurel and the echoes of what had just transpired,
The clean staircase showed no sign of what just happened. But the image of Audrey’s body tumbling down those stairs was burned into my mind.
Blake darling… Laurel’s voice wavered as she nervously wet her lips.
I remained fixed on the spot where Audrey had fallen. That was deliberate, She barely touched you, yet you did push her.”
I turned to face her fully, studying her reaction with a cold expression. The expression on her face was beginning to crack under my scrutiny.
“I couldn’t breathe that moment…” Her hand fluttered to her chest. “You know about my cancer…”
“Since when does gastric cancer cause breathing problems?” The question landed like ice between us. When she didn’t immediately respond, I pressed. ‘I still haven’t seen your medical records from Europe.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “I’ve arranged consultations with every leading gastric cancer specialist in the country. Pulled strings, called in favors, moved heaven and earth to get you the best care possible.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Yet somehow, your medical records remain mysteriously absent.“/
I took a step closer, watching her shrink back. “Tell me, Laurel. Are you really a cancer patient?”
She looked panicked for a moment. Her composure cracked, just for a moment, before she ducked her head to hide behind her hair.
She twisted her hands in her lap, a gesture meant to convey distress but now seemingly theatrical. “The records from Europe… they’ll be here any day
now…
Audrey’s POV
The familiar confines of my modest apartment felt like a sanctuary after the morning’s drama. Snow’s warm weight against my chest as I carried her inside did more to ease my pain than any painkiller could. Setting her carrier down gently, I collapsed onto my worn couch, finally allowing myself to examine the damage from my fall.
Pulling up my pant leg revealed an impressive array of bruises blooming across my skin, each step of that staircase having left its mark. The irony wasn’t lost on me I’d survived terminal cancer diagnosis only to be nearly killed by a jealous actress on a staircase.
As 1 rummaged through my first aid supplies, my phone buzzed with Dr. Evans‘ name lighting up the screen.
“Audrey,” her voice carried an unusual tension. “The lady interested in your experimental treatment… her representative lawyer wants to meet now, to discuss a potentially lucrative collaboration.”
I glanced down at my battered legs, wincing as I shifted position. “Is it urgent?”
“The lawyer indicated it was, I know the timing is terrible, but…”
“Have them contact me then.” I sighed, already knowing I’d regret this. But with only three months left to live, what did timing matter anymore?
Snow padded over, rubbing against my leg with concerned chirps. Even she seemed to sense something was off about this whole situation. As I stroked her soft fur, my phone buzzed again – this time an unknown number.
The lawyer was efficient, clinical, refusing to provide any details over the phone beyond time and location. As I applied antiseptic to my bruises, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of collaboration could be so urgent yet so secretive.
What could two terminal cancer patients possibly collaborate on? I thought darkly. Planning adjacent burial plots?
1/3
Chapter 70
The private dining room at the restaurant the lawyer booked carried a particular brand of luxury. Andrew Jensen, the lawyer who’d called earlier, carried himself with the precise professionalism I’d expect from someone who handled delicate matters for the ultra–wealthy.
“My client hopes you’ll share your medical condition and records with her. He laid out documents with practiced efficiency. She needs a gastric cancer patient’s records to mask her true health status.”
I stared at him, trying to process this bizarre request. “Wait, what? Isn’t she a cancer patient herself?”
*Actually, I’m not privy to those details. His response was too smooth, too practiced. Perhaps she needs to conceal her true health status from certain parties. Given her public profile, many eyes are on her. This choice seems necessary.”
The proposal laid before me was elegant in its deception. Each clause had been crafted carefully, leaving no loose ends that might unravel their facade. Whoever this mystery client was, they’d orchestrated quite the performance.
“Clever,” I murmured, more to myself than Jensen. A terminal patient’s medical records as a smokescreen – it was almost poetic in its simplicity. What better way to hide the truth than behind someone else’s genuine suffering?
The arrangement is straightforward.” Jensen’s voice carried that particular blend of efficiency and authority that only came from years of handling delicate matters for the wealthy. “Once you sign, the hospital will treat your records as hers. All treatments will be fully covered, of course.”
“Most importantly, we need you to keep this quiet. Don’t ask who she is or tell anyone about our deal.” A practiced pause. “In return, you’ll receive a monthly stipend. Consider it… compensation for your cooperation.”
He leaned back. “If the terms are acceptable…”
I held up my hand, cutting off him. “Before we proceed, I have one condition of my own.”
“Go head.”
“I want equality in this arrangement.” I met his gaze steadily. “If she keeps her identity secret, then I want the same protection. Mayo Clinic must keep my identity confidential from her as well.”
After a measured silence, he withdrew his phone from his immaculate suit jacket. “I’ll need to consult with my client.”
While Jensen stepped out, I absently scrolled through New York’s entertainment news. The comments section under Laurel’s latest publicity photos drew my attention like a wound I couldn’t help but probe.
“When is Mr. Parker going to make Ms. Rose a Parker?”
“After three years together, Blake and Laurel should tie the knot!”
“Heard Blake Parker’s planning to propose soon, can’t wait!”
A few months ago, these comments would have felt like daggers to my heart. Now, I just let out a smirk as I liked each one. Let them have their fairytale – I had my own mysteries to solve.
When Jensen returned, his expression carried a particular blend of satisfaction and relief. “My client finds your terms acceptable,”
“You can sign the papers now. I’ll handle the arrangements with Dr. Evans later,” he added.
“To our mutual benefit,” I nodded, signing my name before sliding the papers back.
