Chapter 3 - The Billionaire's Retribution
The atmosphere inside Room 412 shifted instantly from cold indifference to absolute, suffocating tension.
Dr. Vance blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. “Mr. Hayes... I don't understand. Is there a connection with this delinquent account?”
Richard stood up slowly. All the gentle tenderness he had shown to Maya vanished, replaced by an aura of lethal corporate fury.
He turned to Arthur Pendelton. “Arthur.”
“Yes, Mr. Hayes?”
“I want Dr. Victor Vance suspended from medical practice at this facility immediately. Revoke his hospital privileges, freeze his department budget, and initiate a full forensic audit of every patient account he has managed over the last five years.”
Dr. Vance’s face drained of all color. “Mr. Hayes! You can’t do this! I was following hospital standard financial protocol!”
“You were threatening a dying five-year-old child over money,” Richard said, his voice icy calm. “A child who happens to be my grandson.”
Dr. Vance staggered backward, his knees knocking against the edge of the medical desk. “Grand... grandson?”
“Arthur,” Richard continued, ignoring Vance’s gasps. “Call Chief of Medicine Dr. Elizabeth Chen. Tell her to transfer Leo Miller to the top-floor Presidential VIP Suite immediately. I want a team of specialized pediatric hematologists flown in from Johns Hopkins on my private jet within three hours.”
“It’s already done, sir,” Arthur replied smoothly, tapping his smartphone. “The transport team is on their way up now.”
Just then, the door to the room opened again. Marcus Vance, the security guard, strode into the room holding a pair of handcuffs.
“Victor,” Marcus said to his brother, unaware of the situation. “I got a call from dispatch saying there’s a commotion up here with the lemonade kid’s family. You want me to clear them out?”
Marcus stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Richard Hayes standing at the foot of the bed.
Richard turned his head, staring at the security guard. His memory instantly flashed back to the viral photograph—the image of Maya kneeling in the cold while Marcus stood over her like an executioner.
“Are you the officer who threw my granddaughter’s money onto the pavement?” Richard asked.
Marcus swallowed hard, sweat suddenly breaking out across his forehead. “Sir... she was violating hospital property ordinances—!”
“Arthur,” Richard interrupted quietly. “Who owns the security contract for Metropolitan General?”
“Vance Security Solutions, sir,” Arthur answered. “Owned by Marcus and Victor’s uncle, Donald Vance. It’s a twelve-million-dollar annual contract.”
“Cancel it,” Richard ordered. “Effective forty-five seconds ago. Terminate the contract, file a civil suit against Vance Security for elder and child endangerment, and ensure both these men are escorted off my property by armed guards immediately.”
“Right away, sir.” Arthur gestured to two of his imposing security officers. They stepped forward, grabbed Marcus and Victor by their collars, and dragged them out into the hallway as the brothers shouted desperate apologies that fell on deaf ears.
Maya stood beside the bed, her eyes wide with shock. She looked down at her glass jar with its seven dollars and forty-two cents, then up at the towering billionaire who had just upended the entire hospital with a few soft-spoken commands.
“Are you... a wizard?” Maya asked innocently.
May you like
Richard looked at her, his expression softening instantly into warmth. He knelt down beside her again and gently took her small hand.
“No, sweetheart,” Richard whispered, tears shining in his eyes. “I’m your grandfather.”
