Chapter 2 - The Bill and the Fiancée
""They gave him an albuterol treatment an hour ago,"" Hannah replied, her defenses immediately flaring back up. She crossed her arms, trying to mask the trembling in her fingers. ""The antibiotic drip is running. We are handling it, Mason. We don't need you interrogating the staff or playing the hero. You can go back to Room 518. Vanessa must be waiting.""
""How do you know who is in 518?"" Mason asked, narrowing his eyes.
Hannah let out a bitter, joyless chuckle. ""Because it's a small floor, Mason. When a high-society socialite checks in with three security guards and private catering for a sprained wrist, everybody hears about it. I saw her name on the board when I went to fetch ice chips for Eli."" She wiped a tired tear from her cheek. ""You're getting married. You're building the dynasty you always wanted with a woman from your own world. Leave us alone.""
""He is my son, Hannah,"" Mason growled softly, rising to his full height. ""Do you honestly think I could walk out of this door and pretend this child doesn't exist? Do you think I could ever unsee his face?""
Before Hannah could answer, the door swung open. A weary nurse with dark circles beneath her eyes stepped inside holding a clipboard and a blue plastic folder. She glanced at Mason, surprised by his presence, then turned her focus toward Hannah with an expression of deep, clinical sympathy.
""Ms. Reed?"" the nurse said softly. ""The billing department just sent up the denial notice from your state Medicaid review. They're claiming a gap in your paperwork from your last address change. Because Eli needs to be admitted to the specialized pediatric pulmonary unit for the night, the private room fee and the advanced respiratory therapy aren't authorized. The hospital administrator wants to move him to the shared observation ward in the basement annex.""
Hannah’s face lost whatever tiny speck of color it had left. ""No, please. The annex is freezing, and there are six other children coughing down there. Eli has severe asthma on top of this pneumonia! Can't you give me until Monday to sort out the social worker paperwork? I work double shifts at the bakery, I have paystubs—""
""The hospital policy is very strict about non-authorized admissions, ma'am,"" the nurse sighed. ""I'm so sorry. If we don't have a deposit or insurance clearance by six o'clock, the orderly will come with a transfer gurney.""
""How much is the deposit?"" Mason's voice cut through the air like a razor.
The nurse turned, startled. ""Excuse me?""
""I asked you a question,"" Mason said, pulling a platinum corporate card from his leather wallet and slapping it firmly onto the nurse's clipboard. ""How much is the deposit to keep him in this room, transfer him to the highest tier of pediatric pulmonary care, and assign a dedicated private physician to his bedside for the next seventy-two hours?""
""Sir, that... that would easily run twenty thousand dollars or more depending on the specialist fees,"" the nurse stammered, staring at the embossed black-and-silver card bearing the name Mason Cole.
""Swipe it,"" Mason ordered. ""Charge fifty thousand as an initial retainer. Call the head of pediatrics, Dr. Charles Mercer. Tell him Mason Cole expects him in this room in ten minutes. If Mercer isn't in the building, have my private driver fetch him from his home.""
The nurse gasped, recognizing the name instantly. ""Right away, Mr. Cole. Immediately."" She hurried out of the room as if the building were on fire.
""Mason, stop!"" Hannah hissed the moment the door clicked shut. ""You can't just throw your money around and buy your way into our lives! I didn't ask for your charity! I survived three years without a single penny from your bloody empire, and I will not let you use your wealth to manipulate me!""
""This isn't charity, Hannah! This is my child dying of pneumonia in a substandard public room while administrators treat you like a beggar!"" Mason roared, losing his control for a brief second before instantly checking his volume as Eli flinched. Mason exhaled slowly, clenching his fists. ""He bears my blood. I don't give a damn about your pride right now. I care about his lungs.""
The door flew open again, but it wasn't the nurse.
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Vanessa Hart stood in the doorway, wearing a cashmere designer robe over silk loungewear, her right arm wrapped neatly in an immaculate fiberglass cast. Behind her stood two of Mason’s private security guards, looking deeply uncomfortable.
""Mason?"" Vanessa's voice was sharp, toxic, and dripping with disbelief. Her manicured hands trembled in fury as she looked from Mason, to the disheveled woman in the corner, down to the sick child with the strikingly familiar eyes. ""What in God's name is going on here? Why are you in the charity wing screaming at a peasant?""
