unglasses and a heavy trench coat as she walked into the private oncolog

oom was heavy and depressing. The receptionist behind the marble de

envelope from her bag. S

he courier sent her file to the

r face showed no emotion. She s

u for ret

ward slightly, for

d you tell me when Dr. Evans needs her back

yes instantly

nnot confirm or deny any patient i

ly cause security to throw her out. She turned away in f

a soft chime echoed through the lobby. The

suits stepped out. They w

oat. It was Damond Oneill. Beside

tepped behind a massive potted palm tree in the corn

staring at a medical report i

the hallway was so quiet Br

focusing on that Vincent bastard

t's chest burn. She held her breath, her fin

is the one we need for the merger. That lost kitten you

handed the medical report to Miles. His

she is the critical variable. You don't need to under

ike to the stomach. The blood drained fr

relief. "Just don't ge

oss the lobby. His gaze stopped for exactly one second on the h

She waited for him to cal

shed open the glass doors and walk

ce. The tiny, stupid spark of hope she had felt in his penthouse was dead. He was ex

coldness in her veins. She would ne

, answering a phone call. Bridget leaned over the marble counter and

xt to the 10:00 AM slot f

stantly. Dr. Richard Evans. Director of Experimental Cellular Therapies and Highly Classified Medical Procedures.

sed her hand hard against her collarbone, trying to stop the physical pa

Her mother was dying, her father was trying to steal their compan

he would have to become a