Chapter 5 - The Price of Defiance
Before the enforcers could make a move, Wade Hollis stepped out from the stairwell behind them, a heavy-gauge tactical shotgun held casually at his side, blocking their only retreat.
“Wrong floor, boys,” Wade rumbled.
Realizing they had walked into a trap, the lead man cursed under his breath, flashed a hateful glare at Silas, and signaled his partners to back down. They retreated slowly toward the private elevator, slipping inside as the doors slid shut with a soft, ominous ding.
The hallway fell back into heavy, suffocating silence.
Cole let out a long breath, releasing his grip on his gun. Silas didn't move. He stood in the center of the corridor, his jaw clenched, the tension in his frame visible even through his sweater.
Then, slowly, Silas turned his head and looked across the hall toward the nurse’s station.
His steel-gray eyes locked onto Naomi, who was still sitting frozen at her terminal. He walked across the open space, his footsteps quiet and deliberate, stopping just three feet from her desk.
“You should have gone home hours ago, Naomi,” he said, his voice surprisingly low and devoid of its usual corporate bite.
“I was finishing my charts,” she replied steadily, refusing to look away. “And I wanted to make sure your impromptu visitors didn't rupture your surgical incisions.”
A faint, ironic smile touched Silas’s lips. “You have a remarkable talent for understatement.”
“And you have a remarkable talent for attracting enemies who don't know how to knock,” Naomi countered, standing up from her chair to pack her bag. She zipped her backpack with a sharp, decisive zip. “If you keep picking fights with federal proxies in hospital hallways, you’re going to blow those keloid sutures right open, Mr. Grayson. And I’m off duty tomorrow.”
Silas watched her sling the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “Are you afraid of them?”
Naomi stopped, looking him straight in the eye. “I grew up in a neighborhood where letting people see you’re afraid is an invitation for them to finish you off. I learned a long time ago how to carry my own weight.”
Silas stepped just a fraction closer, the scent of cedar and smoke wrapping around her senses. “I offered you a half-million dollars today, and you walked away. Why?”
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“Because independence isn't for sale, Mr. Grayson,” Naomi said quietly. “Some things are worth more than a blank check.”
She walked past him down the corridor toward the elevators, her footsteps echoing clear and strong against the marble floor, leaving the billionaire standing alone in the quiet dark of the private wing.
