Bought By The Billionaire

Chapter 14: The Race Against the Clock

The speedometer in William’s silver sedan crossed 120 as rain slammed against the windshield. The wipers moved back and forth as fast as they could, but the road still looked like a blur of water and headlights. The engine growled loudly, and the tires screeched every time they hit a deeper patch of water. For a second, the car slipped, sliding slightly on the wet asphalt, but William tightened his grip on the steering wheel and pulled it back under control.

Beside him, Maria sat completely still, like she had turned into a shadow of herself. Her forehead rested against the cold window, and her quiet sobs filled the small space between them. Her breath fogged up the glass, and she didn’t even bother to wipe it away.

Every time she shut her eyes, she didn’t see the mansion, the papers, or the deal they had just signed. All she saw was Hazel.

She remembered those freezing winter mornings in their tiny old apartment when Hazel would hide under the blanket and mumble, “Five more minutes, Mar,” in that sleepy voice. Maria would laugh and pull the blanket away, and Hazel would glare at her like she was the worst sister in the world. She remembered Hazel standing in front of Leo, hands on her hips, ready to fight boys twice her size just because they had teased him. Hazel had always been like that—loud, stubborn, and somehow the strongest person in their little family.

Hazel was the one who held them together when everything else was falling apart. And she was the only one who called Maria “Mar” when she could see that Maria was trying not to cry.

Maria’s shoulders shook as another sob escaped her. She pressed her hand against her mouth, trying to stay quiet, but her voice still slipped out, weak and broken.

“She can’t go, William,” she whispered. “She’s only fifteen… she hasn’t even gone to her first prom. She hasn’t seen anything yet. She hasn’t lived.”

William didn’t turn his head, but his jaw tightened so hard the muscles in his face twitched. One hand stayed firm on the steering wheel while the other held his phone to his ear.

“I don’t care how much it costs, Sarah,” he snapped, raising his voice over the storm. “Call every toxicologist you can find. Wake them up if you have to. I want a private jet ready at the city helipad. If there’s a specialist in Switzerland or Singapore or anywhere else, get them on a call within five minutes. Do you understand me? Five minutes.”

He ended the call without waiting for a reply and tossed the phone onto the dashboard. For a second, he just stared at the road, blinking hard, as if he was forcing himself to stay calm.

Then he reached across the console and found Maria’s hand. His fingers wrapped around hers tightly. It wasn’t the firm, confident grip of a businessman closing a deal—it was the grip of someone who was just as scared as she was.

“We’re going to save her,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “I swear to you, Maria… I’ll spend everything I have if I need to. I’ll burn every dollar just to give her one more breath.”

Maria looked at him then, her eyes red and swollen, and for the first time since they left the mansion, she held his hand back just as tightly.

Outside, the storm kept raging, but inside the car, the only thing that mattered was the desperate hope that they weren’t already too late.

The Hallway of Despair

The city hospital felt cold and unreal, washed in harsh white lights and filled with the sharp smell of antiseptic. When William and Maria rushed through the sliding glass doors, everything seemed to move too fast and too slow at the same time.

The waiting area looked like a scene from a nightmare.

Elena was slumped in a hard plastic chair, her head buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook so badly that the chair itself rattled. A nurse stood beside her, one arm around her back, trying to keep her from sliding to the floor. Elena’s cries were quiet but raw, the kind that came from deep inside the chest and hurt to hear.

A few feet away, David sat in his wheelchair, staring down at his own hands. They rested uselessly on his lap—hands that had once built entire buildings, hands that had fixed everything that ever broke in their home. Now they just trembled. His lips quivered, and tears slipped silently down his cheeks as he looked at them, as if he was angry at them for failing him when he needed them the most.

“Maria!”

Sia’s voice cut through the chaos. She ran toward her, clutching a sketchbook to her chest. The corners of it were bent and torn, like she had been squeezing it too tightly.

“They won’t let us go inside,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “They took her through those red doors and they’re not telling us anything. We keep asking, but they just say to wait.”

Maria’s chest felt tight, like she couldn’t pull in enough air. She looked toward the corridor where the red emergency doors stood closed, glowing under the bright lights.

Just then, one of those doors swung open.

A doctor in green scrubs stepped out, pulling his surgical mask down from his face. His expression was serious, the kind of look that made people’s hearts drop even before he spoke.

“Are you the patient’s family?” he asked, scanning their faces.

“I’m her sister,” Maria said quickly, her voice shaking as she stepped forward. She grabbed the edge of his sleeve without even realizing it. “How is she? Please… can I see her?”

The doctor hesitated for a moment. His eyes flicked toward William, who stood just behind Maria, soaked from the rain and breathing heavily, and then back to her.

“She’s stable for now,” he said carefully. “But her vital signs are dropping. She’s been exposed to a rare neurotoxin.”

The word felt heavy in the air.

“It’s… very sophisticated,” he continued. “Not something you would normally find in a hospital or a pharmacy. It appears to be designed to slowly shut down the respiratory system. We’ve administered all the standard antidotes, but none of them are working.”

Maria’s vision blurred. The bright hospital lights seemed to spin above her.

“What does that mean?” she whispered.

The doctor glanced at his watch before answering, his voice quieter now, almost gentle.

“It means the toxin is binding to her lungs,” he said. “If we don’t find the specific counter-agent within the next two hours, her diaphragm will stop responding. She won’t be able to breathe on her own anymore. And right now… we don’t have the formula to reverse it.”

For a second, nobody spoke.

Maria felt her knees buckle. She stumbled backward until her shoulder hit the wall, then slid down it, her legs no longer able to hold her weight. The cold tiles pressed against her back as she stared ahead, unable to process what she had just heard.

From across the room, a low, broken sound escaped David’s throat. It wasn’t quite a cry and not quite a word—just a deep, helpless moan from a father who knew he was losing his child and had no way to stop it.

The hospital corridor stayed bright and busy, nurses walking past, machines beeping in the distance—but for their family, the world had suddenly gone silent.

CEO Mode: The Cost of Power

William stood frozen in the middle of the busy hospital hallway. Nurses rushed past, phones rang, and stretchers rolled by—but for a moment, everything around him seemed to fade into the background.

The gentle man who had been sitting on the nursery floor just hours ago, playing soft piano melodies for Hazel, was gone.

In his place stood the CEO of the Thorne Group.

His shoulders straightened, his expression hardened, and when he spoke, his voice carried a cold, steady authority that made nearby conversations die down without him even raising it.

“Doctor,” William said, his tone calm but sharp, “you might want to check your internal system. A wire transfer of five million dollars has just been sent to this hospital’s research wing. Another ten million is being held in escrow for whichever team finds the cure.”

The doctor stared at him, clearly taken aback. “Sir, with respect… money isn’t the issue. We don’t even have—”

“I’m not finished,” William cut in, not raising his voice, but making it clear he wasn’t someone used to being interrupted.

He took a step closer, his gaze steady and unblinking.

“I’ve arranged for the North Wing to be cleared,” he continued. “A private team of specialists is landing in twenty minutes. Every piece of equipment they’ve requested is already on the way by courier. When they arrive, you will give them full access to your facilities and staff. No delays, no paperwork.”

The doctor opened his mouth as if to protest again, then closed it. The confidence in William’s voice—and the fact that millions had already been transferred—left little room for argument.

Only after he finished did William turn toward Maria.

The look in his eyes had changed. He wasn’t studying her like an investment or trying to calculate her worth anymore. He was looking at her like someone who needed her to stand beside him.

“Maria,” he said quietly, but urgently, “Silas didn’t create that poison. He’s a cleaner, not a scientist. He would never be able to design something that complex on his own. He got it from somewhere… from someone.”

Maria wiped her face with the back of her hand, trying to focus through the haze of panic. “From where?”

William swallowed, and for the first time since taking control of the situation, a flicker of something darker—almost fear—passed through his expression.

“The Old Labs,” he said slowly.

Maria frowned. “What labs?”

“My father’s private research facility back in the nineties,” William explained, his voice quieter now, like he was talking about something he had tried to forget for years. “Officially, it was shut down after a series of… ethics investigations. The buildings were sealed, the staff disappeared, and the records were classified.”

He paused, jaw tightening.

“But the research didn’t just vanish. The files, the formulas, the antidotes… they were all locked away in a secured vault.”

Maria felt a chill run down her spine. “And who has access to that vault?”

William looked at her, and this time there was no hesitation.

“Only one person ever kept the master codes,” he said.

Maria’s eyes widened as the realization hit her at the same time it hit him.

“Arthur Thorne,” she whispered.

The name hung in the air like a storm cloud—heavy, dangerous, and unavoidable.

And for the first time since Hazel had been taken into the emergency ward, Maria understood that saving her wasn’t just about medicine anymore. It meant going straight to the most powerful—and possibly the most dangerous—man in William’s life.