Chapter 2 - THE MEDICAL FILE

The examination room smelled of antiseptic and lavender.

I stood awkwardly near the door, my charcoal suit feeling suddenly restrictive. Violet sat on the edge of the examination table, holding Celeste against her chest.

Dr. Brennan, an older woman with kind eyes and silver hair, checked Celeste’s breathing with a tiny stethoscope.

“Her lungs sound much clearer today, Violet,” Dr. Brennan said warmly. “The steroids are doing their job.”

I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“But,” Dr. Brennan turned to her chart, her expression turning professional. “Because of the premature delivery, I need a complete family medical history from both sides. Specifically regarding cardiac markers.”

She looked directly at me.

“Mr. Valiant. Do you have any history of congenital heart defects in your immediate family?”

My throat went dry.

I controlled a pharmaceutical empire. I knew the chemical composition of a hundred life-saving drugs. But I realized, with a sickening drop in my stomach, that I had no idea how to answer her.

“My father died of a heart attack at fifty,” I said quietly. “But it was stress. Not congenital.”

Dr. Brennan frowned, looking down at her tablet. “That contradicts the genetic screening we ran on Celeste last week.”

Violet’s head snapped up. “What screening?”

“We found a specific genetic marker,” Dr. Brennan explained softly. “It’s manageable, but it’s highly unusual. It’s almost exclusively linked to a side effect of a very specific, discontinued hypertension medication. Did either of your parents take it, Mr. Valiant?”

I froze.

My father hadn't just taken that medication. Valiant Holdings had manufactured it. We pulled it from the market fifteen years ago after discovering long-term genetic side effects in clinical trials.

It was our company’s darkest secret. A secret only three living people knew.

Myself. My father’s lawyer. And Marcus Sterling, my Chief Operating Officer.

“I need to make a phone call,” I said, my voice turning to ice.

“Beckett, wait,” Violet said, her voice shaking.

I turned back. She wasn't looking at me. She was reaching into her oversized leather tote bag with a trembling hand.

“You wanted to know why I really left without saying goodbye?” Violet whispered, tears finally spilling over her lashes.

She pulled out a thick, manila folder stamped with a bright red CONFIDENTIAL seal.

“I didn't leave because of what you said about children,” Violet said, her voice breaking. “I left because two days after I found out I was pregnant, this was left on my pillow.”

She handed me the file.

I opened it.

Inside was a complete medical workup on Violet. Blood tests. Ultrasound scheduling.

But it was the document stapled to the front that made my blood run cold.