Chapter 1 - The Royal Ultimatum
The grand lobby of Harbor Grace Medical Center plunged into a suffocating, terrifying silence.
Grant Hart stared at Sheikh Omar Al-Rashid as if the royal billionaire had just spoken in a forgotten, ancient language.
He forced his signature charming smile onto his face and stepped confidently forward with an extended hand.
"Your Highness, my wife is currently taking a much-needed leave of absence," Grant lied with practiced ease.
The Sheikh did not even glance at the famous surgeon's extended hand.
"I do not do business with disposable employees, Dr. Hart," the royal stated in a voice that echoed harshly off the marble walls.
Grant lowered his hand slowly as the arrogant color completely drained from his handsome face.
"I assure you, as the Chief of Surgery and the public face of this institution, I am fully equipped to handle your generous investments," Grant insisted.
The Sheikh turned his dark, penetrating eyes toward the terrified board members standing frozen behind Grant.
"Mara Hart is the sole, legitimate owner of this hospital, and her signature is the absolute only one that secures my five hundred million dollar endowment," the Sheikh declared.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowded lobby as the hospital's most closely guarded secret was finally dragged into the blinding light.
For twelve years, Grant had allowed the entire city of Chicago to believe he was the brilliant mastermind behind Harbor Grace.
Now, he was being publicly reduced to a mere contractor in front of the most powerful and wealthy people in the state.
Grant quickly pulled out his phone and frantically dialed my private cellular number.
He visibly panicked when the call went straight to a disconnected, automated voicemail system.
He spun around and locked eyes with Chelsea Reeves, who was watching the spectacular disaster unfold from the edge of the crowd.
Chelsea did not look panicked, worried, or even slightly surprised.
She walked smoothly through the terrified board members and placed a gentle, patronizing hand on Grant's trembling shoulder.
"Do not worry about losing the Sheikh's money, Grant," Chelsea whispered loudly enough for the entire royal delegation to hear.
Grant looked at his beautiful mistress with wild, desperate, and entirely pathetic confusion.
"What exactly are you talking about, Chelsea?" he hissed fiercely through his gritted teeth.
Chelsea reached into the deep pocket of her navy blue medical scrubs and pulled out a sharply folded legal document.
"I am talking about the emergency equity transfer you blindly signed in my bed at three o'clock this morning," she smiled wickedly.
Grant snatched the heavy paper from her hands and rapidly scanned the dense legal jargon printed on the page.
His knees literally buckled as he read the final, damning paragraph located just above his messy signature.
He had unknowingly transferred his entire medical license and all his administrative stock options to a ruthless private equity firm.
"You swore to me this was just a standard non-disclosure agreement to protect our romantic relationship!" Grant screamed in absolute horror.
Chelsea crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him with an expression of pure, unadulterated pity.
"I do not work for you anymore, Grant," she said with a chillingly cold tone.
"In fact, as the new majority proxy for Vanguard Corporate Acquisitions, you now work entirely for me."
The Sheikh watched the entire pathetic exchange with a deeply disgusted and weary grimace.
"You have completely lost your beloved hospital, Dr. Hart, but that is honestly the absolute least of your problems right now," the Sheikh warned quietly.
The heavy glass doors of the main lobby violently swung open, letting in a blast of freezing Chicago wind.
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Three heavily armed federal agents marched directly toward the cardiology department with their badges prominently displayed.
They were holding a massive federal warrant bearing my husband's name, charging him with the intentional medical manslaughter of a United States Senator.
