TAKE OFF THAT PIN. YOU WERE FIRED THIS MORNING.” THE HOSPITAL DIRECTOR RIPPED A 59-YEAR-OLD NURSE’S THIRTY-YEAR SERVICE PIN FROM HER UNIFORM -

Chapter 9 – THE NEW ARRIVAL

The email subject line read: URGENT – Board Reorganization.

I opened the message as I stood by the nurses’ station. It was a formal notification that a new majority shareholder had just acquired the remaining 49% of Mercer Medical Center’s stock—the shares that had been seized from Dr. Evans and his corrupt cohorts.

The buyer’s name was listed as Victor Vance.

Marcus Vance’s brother.

I stared at the screen. The syndicate wasn’t completely dead. They had just changed tactics. They were trying to buy the hospital back legally.

Julian burst through the double doors of the ward a moment later. He looked furious.

“Did you see the email?” he asked, striding over to me.

“Victor Vance,” I said quietly. “Can he really do this?”

“He just deposited eighty million dollars into the hospital’s holding trust,” Julian ran a hand through his hair. “As a 49% shareholder, he gets a seat on the executive board. He gets voting rights. He can start vetoing our changes.”

“He’s going to try to reinstate the VIP program,” I realized.

“Or worse,” Julian said. “He might try to shut down the free clinic we just opened to punish us.”

The elevator pinged.

The doors slid open, and a tall, impeccably dressed man in a charcoal suit stepped out. He had the same cold, assessing eyes as Marcus, but he carried himself with the slick polish of a corporate raider.

He walked directly toward us, flanked by two corporate lawyers.

“Julian Mercer,” Victor Vance said, extending a hand. “A pleasure. I believe we are now partners.”

Julian didn’t take the hand. “You have no power here, Victor. I still hold 51%.”

Victor smiled thinly. “For now. But hospital margins are thin, Julian. One bad quarter, one lawsuit, and the board will force you to sell. And I have very deep pockets.”

He turned his gaze to me.

“And you must be Helen,” Victor said, his eyes dropping to my thirty-year pin. “The nurse who shot my brother.”

“I’m the Chief Director of Nursing,” I corrected, holding his gaze without blinking.

“Not for long,” Victor whispered.

He reached into his pocket and placed a small, folded piece of paper on the nurses’ station counter.

“This is a formal notice of intent to audit the nursing staff’s credentials,” Victor said. “I’m going to find every mistake, every late shift, every missing pill on this ward. And when I do, I will fire you myself.”

He turned and walked back into the elevator.

Julian picked up the paper, his jaw clenched in anger.

“He’s declaring war,” Julian said.

I looked at the closed elevator doors.

I reached into my pocket and touched my husband’s wedding ring.

“Let him,” I said.