Chapter 7 - THE HOSPITALWe reached the Whitmore Medical Foundation before dawn.
The building was enormous.
Glass.
Steel.
Private entrances.
Security gates.
Everything polished.
Everything silent.
Victor Whitmore personally opened the doors.
He was seventy-three.
Elegant.
Calm.
Impossible to read.
“Alexander.”
He smiled.
“I heard there was a disturbance at the gala.”
Alexander stared at him.
“Where is Amelia?”
Victor’s smile disappeared.
“What a strange question.”
“She’s alive.”
Victor laughed softly.
“Your wife died three years ago.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“You know that's a lie.”
Victor looked at Marcus.
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes.
Then he smiled.
“Apparently you're not dead either.”
Alexander moved closer.
“My daughter is alive.”
Victor's expression changed.
He said nothing.
That was enough.
Alexander whispered:
“You knew.”
Victor sighed.
“Some truths are expensive.”
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“From whom?”
Victor looked at him.
“From you.”
Alexander recoiled.
“What?”
Victor said:
“Amelia wanted to expose everything. She would have destroyed Whitmore Holdings. Thousands of employees would have lost their jobs.”
“So you kidnapped my wife?”
“I protected the company.”
“You imprisoned her.”
Victor's expression hardened.
“She was unstable after the accident.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“Don't.”
Victor ignored him.
“Amelia became obsessed with conspiracies.”
Alexander stared.
“You had her declared mentally unfit?”
“We had medical records.”
Dr. Cole's forged files suddenly made sense.
Alexander looked sick.
Then a nurse appeared.
“Mr. Victor.”
The nurse whispered something.
Victor nodded.
“Take them upstairs.”
I noticed the nurse's hands trembling.
She was afraid.
We followed her.
On the third floor was a restricted ward.
Room 319.
The nurse opened the door.
Empty.
The bed was still warm.
Amelia had been there.
But she was gone.
There was a note on the pillow.
Alexander picked it up.
Three words.
THE CHILD IS NEXT.
He turned toward Victor.
“What did you do?”
Victor's answer was immediate.
“Nothing.”
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A distorted voice said:
“Your daughter is with us.”
My blood stopped.
May you like
I turned.
Lily was gone.
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