Chapter 9 - The Morning After
By eight o'clock the following morning, the storm had cleared completely.
Bright, crisp winter sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Eleanor Vale’s bedroom, illuminating the polished hardwood floors and fresh vases of white lilies that had been placed on the tables.
Eleanor was sitting up in bed, dressed in a fresh silk robe, drinking a hot cup of black coffee. Her color had returned, her eyes were bright and sharp, and her vitals were entirely baseline.
I stood beside her bed, checking her pulse one last time before finalizing my shift notes.
Vincent stood by the window, wearing a clean charcoal suit, holding a stack of legal documents that had been prepared by the family’s corporate attorneys at dawn.
“So,” Eleanor said, setting her coffee cup down on the saucer with a loud click. “Julian is on a one-way flight to a remote estate in Sicily, stripped of his trust fund, under twenty-four-hour armed guard for the rest of his natural life?”
“Yes, Mama,” Vincent answered smoothly. “And Dr. Hale has surrendered his medical license, transferred his clinic’s real estate assets to our foundation, and entered a private state-monitored rehab facility in Montana.”
Eleanor snorted. “A bit soft for you, Vincent. Years ago, your grandfather would have buried them both under the concrete foundations of Terminal 4.”
Vincent smiled faintly, glancing sideways at me. “Times change, Mama. We have better legal advisors now.”
Eleanor turned her sharp blue eyes toward me. She examined me from my pristine white nursing shoes to the neat ponytail resting on my neck.
“And you,” Eleanor said, her voice dropping its gruff edge. “The fourth nurse.”
“Yes, Mrs. Vale?” I asked politely.
“You slapped a doctor, shouted at my grandson, saved my life, and uncovered a conspiracy that my entire security team missed for two weeks,” Eleanor noted, a small, genuine smile curling her lips.
“I was just doing my job, ma’am,” I replied.
“Nonsense,” Eleanor declared, waving her hand dismissively. “You did far more than your job. You have more courage than half the men who stand guard in my hallways.”
She looked at Vincent. “Vincent, pay her agency five times her standard rate. And then fire them.”
I blinked in surprise. “Fire them?”
“Of course,” Eleanor said, smoothing her blanket. “You aren't working for a third-party nursing agency anymore, Clara. As of this morning, you are my chief personal healthcare manager. You will live here in the east wing, you will manage my medical schedule, and you will be paid three times what those agency fools were giving you.”
I caught my breath. That kind of salary meant my sister’s college tuition was completely paid for, with enough left over to buy my own apartment in the city.
May you like
“Mrs. Vale... that’s incredibly generous,” I stammered. “But are you sure you want me around? I’m quite strict about medication schedules.”
Eleanor chuckled, a warm, rich sound that filled the room. “My dear, after twenty years of being surrounded by people who lied to me because they were afraid of my grandson, I’d prefer a nurse who isn't afraid to slap a needle out of a man’s hand.”
