The Clinic
(Interlude ) Caleb’s POV: What Power Can’t Fix. Previously -12 hours ago
The clinic smelled like antiseptic and quiet desperation.
Caleb sat on the edge of a leather exam chair in a private treatment suite, his shirt unbuttoned, the crisp white cuff stained with a trace of dried blood. A nurse adjusted the IV bag above him while the soft hum of machines filled the silence. His driver waited outside the door. The world waited outside the walls.
Inside, he was just a dying man with too much money and not enough time.
Doctor Marin entered with a tablet in hand, her face unreadable. She was brilliant. Top of her field. He’d flown her in from Switzerland two months ago and given her a blank check.
Still, she had nothing.
“The inhibitors are still stabilizing your vitals,” she said, glancing at the readouts. “But the progress is… negligible.”
“How negligible?” he asked, voice low.
Her lips pressed together. “You’re not gaining. You’re not losing. The autoimmune markers are resisting intervention.”
“And the stem cell sequence?”
She hesitated. “Failed. Again.”
He looked at the wall instead of her. There was a piece of abstract art hanging there—red paint slashed across black. He wondered if it was supposed to represent blood or just cost too much.
“How long?” he asked.
“If you stop the inhibitors? Four weeks. If you stay on them and avoid additional stress, strain, or emotional trauma—”
“Cut the comfort speech, Marin.”
She sighed. “Three months. Maybe four. You’re running out of time, Caleb.”
He nodded once. No reaction. No expression.
He had spent over twenty million dollars chasing every cure, from Europe to Asia to private pharmaceutical labs in Dubai. The only thing keeping him upright now were drugs that made him nauseous and kept his hands from shaking. He was buying hours, not a future.
But there was one last gamble.
A child.
A genetic continuation. Someone who could live beyond him. Someone whose blood could be used to map treatment. Possibly even a cure. And Cynthia… she was the only match he found after months of anonymous screenings.
That’s why he married her. It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t just revenge. It was survival.
He clenched his jaw as the nurse tightened the IV band.
He couldn’t afford to feel anything. Not pity. Not regret.
And especially not guilt.
---
Present Now- When Silence Becomes Betrayal
The sunlight spilling into the penthouse did nothing to warm Cynthia. She sat at the edge of the chaise lounge in the living room, still in yesterday’s clothes, watching the muted TV flicker across the wall.
She hadn’t seen Caleb since the incident with Liliana.
He hadn’t come back after she asked him if it was true, if he was really dying.
And of course, he hadn’t answered.
The man she married was a fortress. One built with secrets for bricks and silence for mortar.
She turned up the volume on the TV out of boredom and froze.
It was her father’s face on the screen.
Live. Being shoved into the back of a black vehicle in handcuffs. Federal agents swarmed outside the Harlow corporate tower. The banner across the bottom of the screen read:
BREAKING: RICHARD HARLOW ARRESTED ON MULTIPLE FEDERAL CHARGES – HSI CONFISCATES ASSETS AND CORPORATE HOLDINGS
“No…” she whispered.
The anchor’s voice cut through the air like ice.
“Sources confirm that Caleb Reyes, CEO of Reyes Global Holdings, provided key evidence that reopened a closed embezzlement and fraud investigation dating back fifteen years. This morning, Homeland Security and the FBI raided Harlow Industries, freezing all company assets and seizing over twenty-five million in suspected offshore accounts.”
Cynthia’s stomach twisted. The air left her lungs.
“Richard Harlow was taken into custody outside his residence just before 7 a.m., in connection with the collapse of three client funds and the death of financial consultant Jorge Reyes, whose suicide fifteen years ago was believed to be tied to the scandal. New evidence suggests a coordinated cover-up.”
The screen cut to a video clip, her father, white-haired and shaking, being pushed into a federal SUV while reporters screamed questions at him.
“Dad…”
She clutched the edge of the couch to stay upright.
Everything, everything, she had sacrificed was for nothing.
She signed the contract. She married Caleb. She gave up her own freedom to protect her father’s name, to keep his legacy intact.
And he did it anyway. He burned it down.
Behind her, the elevator chimed. She didn’t move.
Caleb stepped in, dressed in black again, his expression unreadable. No apology. No explanation. He walked toward her like he had every right to be there.
She stood. Her voice trembled, but she made no attempt to hide her rage.
“You said he would be protected. That was the deal.”
Caleb looked at the screen, then at her. “I changed the deal.”
“Why?”
“Because your father tried to move money out of a seized account last night. He made his bed.”
She slapped him.
The sound cracked through the silence. He didn’t flinch.
Tears blurred her vision, but she held his gaze.
“You used me,” she said. “You said three months. But you started this war before the first week was over.”
“I told you not to fall for me,” he said quietly.
“I never did,” she whispered. “I fell for a lie.”
She turned to walk away, but Caleb spoke again.
And what he said stopped her cold.
“I warned him what would happen,” he said. “But he refused to cooperate.”
She turned back slowly. “Cooperate with what?”
Caleb’s eyes were flat.
“There’s more, Cynthia. Your father didn’t just frame mine. He signed off on the contract that killed him.”
Cynthia stared at him, her mouth parted, her entire body numb, “No,” she said.
Caleb stepped closer, “Yes,” he said.
“But he was your business partner—”
“He was his best friend,” Caleb said. “And he left him to die.”
She backed away, the walls suddenly too close, the floor too high.
And then, just as she reached for the edge of the couch to steady herself. The elevator chimed again.
A voice echoed into the room.
“Hope I’m not interrupting.”
She turned.
It was Liliana. And this time, she wasn’t alone. Beside her stood a lawyer and a court officer.
Liliana’s smile was bright as diamonds.
“I’m here to file for joint custody.”
