Part 2: The Crimson Thread
“I am dying, Travis,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “A rare, aggressive form of leukemia that is unique to the genetic anomalies of the Vance bloodline. I have less than six months to live. Vanguard Industries cannot survive without me. The board, our enemies, the government—they are waiting like vultures for me to fall. If I die without a successor, everything Clara died to protect, everything I built, collapses.”
“You tracked me down… to use me as a medical donor?” I whispered, my heart breaking into a thousand pieces. The woman who listened to me, who made me feel like I mattered, who I fought the entire world for… it was all a lie.
“No,” Eleanor said, taking a step toward me. “A bone marrow transplant requires a legal guardian or next of kin’s consent for experimental Vanguard procedures. Your father would never give it. But a spouse? A spouse has full medical power of attorney. By marrying you, I ensured that when the time comes, you have the legal right to authorize the procedure that will save my life.”
“You twisted, selfish monster,” I spat, tears finally blurring my vision. “I loved you! I defended you! I’m leaving. I’m going to the police, I’m going to—”
Before I could finish the sentence, the heavy oak doors of the suite burst open.
Three men in immaculate black suits stepped into the room. One of them was holding a suppressed pistol, while the other carried a medical briefcase. But it wasn’t the weapons that made my breath catch in my throat.
It was the man walking in behind them.
He was tied up, a burlap sack over his head, his clothes torn and stained with blood. The guards threw him to the floor at my feet, ripping the sack off his head.
I gasped, stumbling backward.
It was my father.
He looked up at me through swollen, bruised eyes, coughing up blood onto the expensive Persian rug.
“Travis…” my father croaked, his voice weak and trembling. “I tried… I tried to stop her… They’re not here for your marrow, son… Run…”
The lead guard closed the door behind him, locking it with an electronic click. He turned to Eleanor, bowing his head slightly. “Madam Vance. The perimeter is secure. The asset’s family has been contained. We are ready to begin Phase 3.”
Eleanor looked at my battered father, then turned her cold, unblinking eyes back to me. The sorrow was entirely gone now. She looked like a queen looking at a pawn.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Travis,” Eleanor said, as the guards stepped toward me, one of them raising a syringe filled with a clear, glowing liquid. “But I told you the truth. Just not all of it. Now, you have a choice to make. And your father’s life depends entirely on your compliance.”
