The library queen

Chapter 3 Medical File

Maya climbed the marble steps, they walked down a dead-silent hallway until Sam pushed open a massive door at the very end.

Maya walked past the threshold and stopped.

The room was massive, easily bigger than her entire apartment. High ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and silk curtains blocking out the storm. She stepped onto a thick rug, walking over to a dark wooden desk.

A soft knock rattled the door, and Sam walked in carrying a silver tray. He set it down by the window.

Roasted chicken, asparagus, and ice water.

"Dinner is served, Miss Finn," Sam said, lining up the silverware. "Fresh towels are in the bathroom."

Maya didn't look at the food. She spun around, invading the old man's space. "I need a phone. Now."

"Sit down, Miss. Eat something."

"I need to call my roommate, Chloe," Maya hissed, her voice dropping into a dangerous, steady rhythm. She didn't beg; she locked her eyes onto his. "She’s waiting for me. I don't show up, she goes straight to the precinct. You want that heat?"

"Mr. Savier is already taking care of your phone situation," Sam said, his voice smooth and totally unbothered. "You don't need to worry about your roommate."

"He’s ruining my life," Maya snapped, her lips curling into a cold, venomous smirk.

"He's keeping you safe." Sam turned toward the exit. "Get some sleep. Things look better in the morning."

"Let me talk to him! I demand to see him right now!"

Sam paused at the door, giving her a polite little bow. "Enjoy your dinner."

He stepped out. The heavy door slammed shut. A second later, the sharp click of the deadbolt echoed through the room.

Maya stood dead center in the massive space. She didn't panic. She walked to the window, watching the rain pour down on the dark gardens below.

Morning sunlight streamed through the windows. The dining hall still felt freezing cold. Sam pulled back a heavy mahogany chair at the end of a ridiculously long table.

"Mr. Savier is waiting, Miss," the old man murmured.

Maya marched across the rug and slammed herself into the seat. Renn sat at the very end, sharp in a fresh charcoal suit. He didn't look up, calmly turning a page of his newspaper while his black coffee steamed.

"Eat," Renn said, his voice dropping like an order.

Maya stared at the plates of eggs and toast. "I have a shift in twenty minutes, Savier," she snapped, cutting through the quiet. "Chloe is opening the doors right now. She looks at the roster, sees I'm not there, and she calls my phone. You ready for that heat?"

Renn slowly folded his newspaper and set it down.

"Tang already took care of it," Renn said, taking a slow sip. "He emailed a sick leave request from your apartment IP six hours ago. Your library firewall is a joke."

"A sick leave lasts two days max, genius. What happens when I don't show up next week?"

"You won't have to. You officially resigned an hour ago."

Maya shoved her hands against the edge of the table, her eyes turning into pure fire. "You forged my signature? Director Voss isn't stupid. He's gonna know something is messed up."

"Voss got a very touching email from you about a sudden family emergency," Renn replied, his face a perfect blank. "He already accepted it. You’re free."

"You’re completely erasing my life, you arrogant bastard!"

"I'm managing my variables, Maya."

"I am not one of your business assets! Let me out of here. I got you past the cop, we’re even. Let me walk."

Renn set his cup down with a sharp clink. He picked up a thick manila folder and flipped it down the long table. It slid across the polished wood, stopping right against her silver fork.

"Look at it again," Renn said, locking his dark eyes onto hers. "Just so we’re crystal clear on who owns the board."

Maya stared at the folder. She didn't hesitate. She yanked out the photo of her twenty-year-old brother, Owen, smiling in a hospital bed with wires taped to his chest. Her grip tightened, crumpling the edge of the paper, but she didn't cry.

"Cardiology wing. Room 402," Renn murmured, his voice cutting like a razor. "You know how short his clock is. He doesn't have eighteen months to wait on a public list. You want to watch him die?"

Maya lifted her head, leaning into his space across the massive table. "Using a sick kid as leverage? Pathetic. Is this how you run your multi-million dollar empire? By playing god with hospital plugs?"

Renn’s jaw tightened, a dangerous edge bleeding through his calm facade. "It works. My people in Geneva can get him a new heart valve by tomorrow morning. I pay for the surgery, he lives."

Maya swallowed the bitter taste in her throat, her mind already calculating the board.

"And if I walk out that door right now?" she sneered, matching his icy stare.

Renn adjusted his left cuff, a cruel, tiny smile touching his lips. "Then Tang clicks a button. The hospital power grid goes dead. The backup generators fail. And your little brother suffocates in the dark at exactly three in the morning. Choose."

Silence hit.

Maya looked from the photo straight into Renn Savier’s dead eyes.

Renn brushed past her without a word, marching straight for the giant oak front doors. Maya kept close behind him, her eyes mapping the layout. Inside, the grand hall looked like an ancient stone fortress, shadows swallowing the high ceilings.

A man stood by a long mahogany table right in the middle of the room. Crisp charcoal suit, stiff posture, clutching a leather briefcase.

"Marcus," Renn said, tossing his wet gloves aside.

"Mr. Savier," Marcus nodded, his voice deadpan. He turned his flat eyes to Maya. "Miss Finn. Sit down."

Maya marched over to the table and slammed herself into a heavy wooden chair.

Marcus popped the clasps on his briefcase with a sharp snap. He pulled out a thick stack of papers and slid them across the polished table until they smacked right against her hands.

"Look at the first page," Marcus said.

Maya scanned the dense text. "What is this bullshit?"

"The DA is gunning for Renn," Marcus said flatly, leaning over the table. "And the cops have your name logged at that library. You’re a prime witness to a gangland execution, Maya. If they put you on the stand, you’re screwed. And so are we."

"I’ll just plead the Fifth," Maya sneered, matching his stare. "I don't have to say a damn thing to a judge. Try making me."

"Doesn't work that way, genius," Marcus countered, a cruel smirk touching his lips. "The prosecutor grants you immunity, and your constitutional rights go out the window. You either talk, or you rot in a cell for contempt. Choose."

"Then I’ll tell them I forgot," Maya snapped, her voice dropping into a lethal, steady rhythm. "I’ll tell them I panicked and can't remember a single face. You think a jury's gonna convict a terrified librarian?"

"Detective Joseph isn't an i***t," Marcus said, tapping his pen. "He knows you were there. He’ll squeeze you until you c***k. And if you don’t? They’ll start looking at that little brother of yours. The state loves going after family to make people cooperate."

Maya shoved her hands against the edge of the table, leaning into his space. "Using a sick kid to threaten me? Pathetic. Is this how you practice law, counselor?"

"We’re practical," Marcus corrected, flipping the page. "We need a permanent legal wall between you and the district attorney. Something they can't break."

"What, you're gonna buy off a judge?"

"Judges don't stay bought," Renn cut in from the fireplace, his dark eyes drilling into her. "Politicians want promotions. Money doesn't fix a loose end like you. Don't be stupid."

Marcus pointed his silver pen at a highlighted paragraph on page three. "There's a loophole in the system, Maya. Spousal privilege. You marry Renn, and the state can't force you to say a single word against him in a court of law. It's an airtight legal shield."

Maya looked from the paper, to Marcus, and finally turned her head to lock eyes with Renn. Her mind raced, calculating the entire board. A cold, venomous realization hit her. Spousal privilege goes both ways, you arrogant bastards.

"You're telling me I have to marry you," Maya whispered.

"I'm telling you it's the only way you don't go to prison, and your brother stays breathing," Renn said, stepping out of the shadows, his face a perfect blank. "You sign that, and you become a Savier. The cops can't touch you. Nobody can touch you."

"I become your wife," she breathed.

"You stay alive," Renn corrected.