Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF A NAME
Rafferty took the phone from Silvano. He didn't speak. He just listened to the heavy, arrogant breathing on the other end of the line.
“You think you’re clever, Cain?” Arthur Vanderpool’s voice was slick with aristocratic poison. “A fake marriage won’t save that child. I own the pediatric wing at St. Jude’s. I own the surgeons. You can have all the money in the world, but if I say the girl doesn't get the cochlear implant, she stays deaf for the rest of her miserable life.”
Fay, standing close enough to hear the tinny voice from the speaker, let out a quiet sob.
Rafferty’s eyes flicked to her. He reached out and gently pulled her against his side, his large arm wrapping around her shoulders. It wasn't a gesture of possession; it was a promise.
“Arthur,” Rafferty said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “Do you remember what happened to the men who controlled the South Port before I did?”
There was a pause on the line. The arrogance wavered slightly.
“You’re a thug in a nice suit,” Vanderpool sneered. “You won’t touch me. You need my legitimate businesses to wash your money.”
“I needed your businesses when I cared about keeping the peace,” Rafferty corrected him. “But you just threatened my family. So, let me explain exactly what is going to happen tonight.”
Rafferty looked out over the dark expanse of his estate. “By 3:00 AM, my associates will have bought up every outstanding debt your shipping company holds. By 6:00 AM, the unions will go on strike at all your docks because I will pay them double their wages to stay home. By 9:00 AM, your stock will crater, and I will initiate a hostile takeover of the Vanderpool Medical Trust.”
“You’re bluffing,” Vanderpool snarled, but fear finally bled into his voice. “You don’t have that kind of liquid capital.”
Rafferty smiled grimly. “I’m a thug in a nice suit, Arthur. I have capital you don’t even know how to count. I am going to buy the hospital out from under you. Enjoy your evening.”
He ended the call and handed the phone back to Silvano.
“Execute it,” Rafferty ordered. “Empty the shadow accounts. Break him.”
Silvano nodded, a predatory grin spreading across his face, and hurried inside.
Fay pulled away slightly, looking up at Rafferty’s scarred, handsome face. “You’re throwing away your entire empire… for us? You just met us tonight.”
Rafferty reached into his pocket and pulled out the yellowed paper boat. He held it in his palm, offering it to her.
“I didn't meet you tonight, Fay,” he said softly. “I met you when I was fourteen years old. I was burning with fever, abandoned in a room where they put the kids who were expected to die. I was terrified. But you sat outside the glass. You talked to me for hours. You slid this boat under the door.”
Fay stared at the boat, the memories flooding back. The angry boy. The sad eyes.
“You kept it,” she whispered, tears spilling over her lashes.
“It was the only thing I had that proved someone, somewhere, cared if I lived or died,” Rafferty said. He stepped closer, raising a hand to gently wipe a tear from her cheek. “I spent twenty years building an empire so no one could ever throw me away again. But an empire is just stone and money. I don't want it if I have to sit in it alone.”
He looked deeply into her eyes. “The marriage is legal, Fay. But I will annul it tomorrow if that is what you want. I won't trap you. But if you stay… I swear I will spend the rest of my life proving that you and Josie belong here.”
Fay looked at this terrifying, powerful man who was laying his heart completely bare for a maid he had once known in the dark.
Before she could answer, a small tug on her skirt made her look down.
Josie was standing there, rubbing her eyes. She had wandered out of the bedroom, clutching her blanket. She looked up at Rafferty.
She walked over to him, reached up, and patted his chest, right over his heart. She felt the heavy, steady thumping beneath the fabric. She smiled and leaned her head against his leg.
Rafferty looked down at the child, his breath hitching. He slowly placed his hand on her hair.
Fay watched them. The man who had once promised her the world had run away at the first sign of hardship. This man had just declared war on the city’s elite to protect a child that wasn't even his.
Fay took a step forward. She placed her hand over Rafferty’s, where it rested on Josie’s head.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Fay whispered.
The warmth in Rafferty’s eyes eclipsed the cold gray entirely. He pulled Fay into his chest, burying his face in her hair. For the first time in his life, Rafferty Cain was holding everything he ever wanted.
But as the dawn began to break over the Mississippi, Silvano rushed back onto the porch, holding a heavily redacted document.
“Boss,” Silvano said, his voice tight. “The hostile takeover of the hospital is complete. You own St. Jude’s.”
“Then schedule the surgery,” Rafferty said, holding Fay close.
“That’s the problem,” Silvano held up the document. “We found out why Vanderpool was so confident. Josie’s biological father—the fiancé who walked out on Fay?”
May you like
Fay went rigid. “Marcus? What about him?”
Silvano looked at Fay with deep pity. “He didn't just walk out. He sold her debt to the Vanderpools. Marcus is Celeste’s cousin. The whole reason you’ve been trapped in poverty, Fay… the Vanderpools engineered it to keep you under their heel.”
