Justice of the Supreme War God

Chapter 24: The Deal Breaker PART 1

Chapter 24: The Deal Breaker

Dr. Franklin Morse took a breath.

It was a small breath. The kind a man takes when he has identified the correct answer and is preparing to deliver it to an audience that is not going to receive it well.

"Mr. Steel," he said, and his voice carried the careful, measured quality of someone navigating between two things of very unequal weight and being professional about the navigation, "the Steel family's contributions to this institution are genuinely valued. The cardiac wing. The endowment. All of it." He paused. "But I'm not able to do what you're asking."

Ryan's smile stayed on his face but stopped being connected to anything underneath it.

"I'm sorry?"

"I cannot have that gentleman removed," Morse said. He did not look at Marcus when he said it, which was its own kind of statement — the careful avoidance of a man who doesn't want to advertise the direction of his caution. "His presence here is entirely appropriate and within his rights as Mrs. Hayes's husband. I hope you understand."

The lobby was so quiet that the ambient hum of the building's ventilation system was audible.

Ryan looked at Morse with the expression of a man who had just placed what he considered an unrefusable order and received the wrong item. He glanced at Liam, who was still slightly pale and had said nothing since Marcus's quiet instruction had apparently relocated his vocal cords. He looked at Catherine, whose shock had passed through several stages and arrived at a particular, sharp-edged bewilderment.

"Who," Catherine said, and the question was not directed at anyone specifically, more released into the general atmosphere of the lobby, "is this man?"

Nobody answered her.

Marcus said nothing.

The question hung there with the unresolved quality of something that would need to be addressed eventually but had no intention of resolving itself today.

The nurse appeared at the corridor entrance with the timing of someone who had been watching the lobby situation from a professional distance and had identified a moment.

"Mrs. Hayes is awake," she said. "She's asking about her status."

The group's collective attention pivoted instantly.

Catherine moved first, then Isabella, then Ryan, then Liam — a sudden, forward surge toward the corridor that had the compressed energy of everything the lobby confrontation had built up finding a new direction. They filed past Marcus with the unified purposefulness of people who had temporarily agreed to the same destination, and Marcus let them go, and followed last.

Diana's room was private and well-lit and too small for the number of people currently standing in it.

She was propped against the pillows with an IV line in her left arm and an expression that suggested she had woken up, assessed her situation, and was not particularly pleased with any component of it. The color had returned to her face — still pale by her standards, but present. Her eyes were clear.

They moved across the room with the quick, comprehensive sweep of someone taking inventory, catalogued each face, and settled into the neutral, guarded expression she wore when she was deciding how much energy the next conversation was going to cost her.

Ryan moved to the side of the bed with the smooth, practiced authority of someone accustomed to being in the correct position.

"Diana." His voice was warm and weighted with the specific, manufactured sincerity of a man who had decided this was an opportunity. He took her hand — or moved to, until Diana's hand relocated itself to the blanket with a subtle, definitive motion. "I'm so relieved you're awake. I want you to know —" he leaned forward slightly — "I'm going to get to the bottom of everything that's been happening. The business situation, all of it. I'm going to fix it. You don't have to worry about any of —"

"Everyone out," Diana said.

The room went quiet.

"I'm sorry?" Ryan said.

"Out." She looked at the room with the flat, absolute authority of someone who had just woken up in a hospital bed and had located every single one of the ways in which the next hour could go wrong. "All of you. I need a moment."

Catherine began, "Diana, sweetheart, we just —"

"Mother." The word had nothing soft in it. "Out."

They filed out. Ryan last, with the careful, deliberate pace of a man communicating that he was leaving on his own terms rather than being dismissed, which was a distinction that pleased no one but himself.

Marcus came through the door as they were leaving and stopped just inside the room.

Diana looked at him.

"Are you in pain?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"Your blood sugar —"