Chapter 6 - The Morning After
The rain had stopped by dawn, leaving the Manhattan streets slick and shimmering under the early morning light. Helena sat at the worn wooden kitchen table of her small apartment, staring at the digital screen of her phone.
A notification from St. Jude’s Hospital blinked brightly: Balance Paid in Full. Next scheduled dialysis covered for twelve months.
She felt sick to her stomach. Adrian Falkner was as good as his word—terrifyingly efficient, incredibly powerful, and completely inescapable.
Across the room, her foster mother, Martha, walked out of her bedroom leaning heavily on a wooden cane, offering a weak but genuine smile. “Helena, honey... the hospital called. They said an anonymous benefactor cleared the entire account. Was it... was it that rich man from the gala last night?”
Helena rubbed her temples, looking up. “Yes, Mom. It was.”
Before Martha could reply, a heavy, insistent knock echoed from the front door. It wasn't a polite tap; it was the rhythmic, demanding knock of someone who expected doors to open immediately.
Helena walked over and pulled the door open, expecting a delivery or perhaps a messenger from Falkner Global. Instead, standing on her cramped welcome mat was a sleek, middle-aged man in a tailored charcoal suit holding a thick manila envelope.
“Miss Helena Vale?” the man asked smoothly, his eyes sweeping over the modest hallway with undisguised disdain.
“Who’s asking?” Helena demanded, blocking the threshold.
May you like
“My name is Arthur Laurent,” the man said, offering a cold, razor-thin smile. “And I think we need to have a very civil conversation about your future—and why you should pack your bags and leave Chicago before the weekend is over.”
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