The small notification sound from Victor’s laptop cut through the quiet hospital room like a knife.
I had been sitting beside his bed for nearly an hour, pretending to read while he dozed after another round of pain medication. The private suite was dim and cool, the monitors beeping steadily beside him. Victor looked smaller under the thin hospital blanket, his face pale and drawn from the advancing cancer. But even in sleep, he held power. I knew better than to let my guard down for even a second.
The laptop sat open on the small table near his bed. Victor had asked me to check his emails earlier, claiming his hands were too weak from the medication. I had been scrolling through messages when the new email arrived. The subject line made my blood freeze. Private footage for Mr. Hale. Ur
