The phone’s ringing tone was a sharp, jagged sound in the heavy silence of the VIP suite. Serena Ashford clutched the device to her ear, her knuckles white. She waited, each beat of the signal feeling like a hammer blow against her chest. Finally, the line clicked open.
"Miss Ashford? Is something the matter?"
The voice of Lionel Graves was smooth, professional, and entirely unaware of the storm brewing at Riverbend General Hospital. News of the exclusive health lecture hadn't yet hit the press or the internal memos of Ashford Industries. To Director Graves, Serena was simply the woman he was currently helping out of a sense of obligation—or perhaps a lingering fear of the man standing in her shadow.
He hadn't expected her to call so soon. Since the Grand Lady Ashford had enacted her so
