The Rise Of Nicholas Hensaw

Chapter 7

"Is he awake yet? This pathetic loser thinks we'll pity him by putting on a show for us. Make sure you add all these expenses to what he already owes," Gabriel's voice drifted into Nicklaus's consciousness as the first words he heard upon waking.

His eyes remained closed, and it took a moment for him to process Gabriel's cruel words.

Suddenly, he began coughing. As he opened his eyes to the bright hospital room lighting, millions of calculations and data points began flooding his mind like a torrent.

He stopped coughing as Gabriel and Dr. Stevens approached his bedside. Seeing his eyes wide open but his body rigid like a machine, they exchanged concerned glances.

"He must be having side effects from one of those cheap drugs we gave him. Inject him with another sedative so he'll go back to sleep," Dr. Stevens said to one of the nurses.

"What? No, I don't want him sedated. I want him conscious because I need to collect every penny he owes this hospital," Gabriel interrupted.

As vast amounts of information continued processing in Nicklaus's mind, he slowly sat up. He didn't feel weak like someone who had lost significant blood. Gabriel and Stevens's words seemed irrelevant now—he suddenly knew exactly what needed to be done for Rita.

He stood up, and several nurses rushed toward him. "Sir, you need to stay in bed. You've lost a lot of blood, and we can't allow you to be up yet."

Nicklaus brushed their hands away, filled with renewed determination.

"Where's my sister? Take me to her room," Nicklaus demanded without even glancing at Gabriel or Stevens.

"Young man, your sister is in critical condition. I've told you there's no need for dramatics. Just come with me to sort out the bills, and your sister will be properly cared for," Gabriel said.

Nicklaus didn't respond. Instead, he stared at Stevens as data and medical information became visible before his eyes—information only he could see.

"Watch what you eat, Dr. Stevens. The meals you consume daily contain preservatives that are slowly damaging your liver. Get the hepatitis B vaccine and switch to naturally processed foods," Nicklaus said matter-of-factly.

Dr. Stevens's eyes widened in shock. He recalled that during his recent routine checkup, he had discovered exactly what Nicklaus was describing.

Ignoring Gabriel completely, Nicklaus headed straight for the door. The nurses didn't bother following, standing there with annoyed expressions.

"How can someone make our job this difficult!" one nurse thought. Her shift was ending soon, and if this patient caused delays, she'd be irritated—she had a date that evening.

Gabriel followed Nicklaus out of the room. "Where are you going? To see your sister?" Gabriel asked, but Nicklaus remained silent.

"You might as well come with me—I moved her to a different room! Maybe when you see her condition, you'll consider selling your organs to raise money for her treatment," Gabriel continued his taunts, but his words sounded irrelevant to Nicklaus.

After walking with Gabriel to Rita's new room, Nicklaus saw her lying on the bed, looking as pale as death.

"She won't survive another night here," Gabriel said coldly.

"I know. She has exactly four hours, three minutes, and twenty-four seconds left," Nicklaus stated precisely, approaching her bedside.

There was no nurse in the room, but medical instruments lay on the bedside table. Nicklaus immediately knew what needed to be done.

"What are you doing? Are you trying to kill her?" Gabriel demanded, growing agitated as Nicklaus reached for the hospital equipment.

"I can't let you continue this. I'm calling security to remove you, and if anything happens to her, you'll spend years in prison for murder," Gabriel said with a malicious smile.

He didn't care if Rita died—he only wanted to see Nicklaus fail and be humiliated. He enjoyed seeing Nicklaus in uncomfortable situations, and since Nicklaus had regained consciousness in the hallway, Gabriel had felt unsettled.

Nicklaus sensed the tension in the room and turned to Gabriel before looking down at his wrist. His family heirloom rested there like an old, cheap watch.

At first glance, anyone would assume he'd found it somewhere—not only did it look old and worn, but it was also outdated. Surprisingly, despite all these years, it still kept perfect time.

Recalling the day his father gave him the watch, Nicklaus had been just a boy. His parents were already showing signs of their impending doom.

"Take this watch, son. In time, you'll need it," his father's words echoed in his memory, and he immediately stopped what he was doing.

"What's wrong? Why did you suddenly pause? Don't you know what you're doing anymore?" Gabriel taunted, but received no response.

Now it all made sense. This was why his father had emphasized keeping the watch safe.

"What's so important about this watch, Dad? If it's valuable, why don't you just sell it and use the money to take us abroad, away from all these people pursuing you and Mom?" young Nicklaus had asked.

His father shook his head and whispered, "They're pursuing me because of this watch."