Chapter 9 - THE WAITING GAME
The surgery took nine hours.
Griffin didn’t sit down once. He paced the halls, made a dozen phone calls to his legal team, ruthlessly acquiring a hostile majority stake in his father's company just to neutralize Arthur completely. By hour seven, Arthur Drake was no longer a billionaire. He was ousted from his own board. Griffin had destroyed his father’s empire from a hospital waiting room with just a cellphone.
But none of it mattered if Sloan didn't survive.
When Dr. Thorne finally emerged, he looked exhausted but smiling.
“The clip is secure, Mr. Drake. The bleeding has stopped. She’s going to be fine.”
Griffin sank into a sterile plastic chair, putting his head in his hands, and wept. For the lost years, for the terror, and for the overwhelming relief that the nightmare was finally over.
When Sloan finally woke, she didn't see a shadowy figure in a dim room. She saw Griffin, holding one of her hands, with Hazel and Iris curled up at the foot of her bed.
“Hi,” she whispered.
May you like
Griffin’s head snapped up. His eyes were red-rimmed, but his smile was the brightest thing she had ever seen. “Hi, Mrs. Drake.”
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