His Artificial Heart Beats With Mine

The regular observation room was on the third floor of the rehab center. There were no soundproof walls or temperature control.

I curled up on the hospital bed. My fingers dug into the sheets, my chest feeling so tight that I couldn't make a sound.

The door flew open. Quentin Stark rushed in, his white coat hanging open, every button undone. He was Aiden's attending physician and the only person in the entire center who knew the whole truth.

The moment he saw the empty patches on my chest where the monitoring pads were supposed to be, his face went completely white. He spat, "Who said you could rip off her monitoring pads?"

Mandy was sitting on the couch, flipping through my chart. She didn't even look up.

"Dr. Stark, I'm the acting director of this center." She pushed a board authorization letter onto the table. "While Aiden is away, this facility answers to me."

Quentin didn't spare it a glance. He came straight toward me, saying, "Geraldine can't stay here."

He reached out to reconnect my portable synchronizer, but two security guards stepped in front of him.

"Move!" Quentin barked.

Mandy stood up. "Why are you so protective of her? She's under suspicion for medical fraud, and you're guarding her even more fiercely than Aiden does."

He clenched his jaw so hard that it trembled. He knew that he couldn't tell her the truth. Aiden's artificial heart relied on the calibration of my primary frequency. It was the Ziegler family's highest-level secret. If that ever got out, Aiden would instantly become a walking target for the entire capital market.

All Quentin could do was force out hoarsely, "Her sync can't be interrupted. If something happens to her, Mr. Ziegler will die."

Mandy laughed. "So if anything happens to Geraldine, Aiden's life will be in danger?"

She walked to my bedside and looked down at me. "You really are something. Even Dr. Stark is willing to lie for you."

I opened my mouth, but the pain in my chest was so overwhelming that I couldn't squeeze out a single word.

The last traces of color drained from Quentin's face. "Ms. Sutherland, this is my last warning. If you stop now, I can still fix this."

"Fix this?" Mandy's smile turned icy. "What needs fixing is the money that she's scammed the center out of over the years."

She pointed at Quentin. "Take his badge."

The security guards grabbed him and dragged him toward the door.

"Mandy Sutherland, you're going to regret this!" he shouted.

She ignored him and turned to the head of the tech department. "Is the backup sync server on the top floor still running?"

He instantly blanched. "Ms. Sutherland, that can't be shut down. It's tied to Mr. Ziegler's remote artificial heart calibration parameters. If you cut that—"

"Aiden again." She cut him off, the look in her eyes darkening with every passing second. "Every single one of you is using him to pressure me."

She picked up a walkie-talkie. "Shut it off."

The tech head lunged for her, but a guard kicked him to the floor.

A few minutes later, the entire rehab center flickered into darkness for a split second. The monitor by my bed screeched with static as the heart-rate line went haywire. I clutched my chest and arched off the mattress, my whole body convulsing.

Out in the hallway, Quentin was pinned to the floor, the veins at his temples bulging. "Mandy, he'll die! Aiden really will die!"

Mandy stood at the foot of my bed, motionless as she watched me seize and twitch. "He can die as I watch, then."

Her phone rang. An encrypted number flashed on the screen, labeled with a single word—Iropa.

She answered.

Aiden's assistant, Sam Grant, sounded out of control. "Ms. Sutherland, Mr. Ziegler suddenly collapsed in the middle of a meeting. His artificial heart has gone into emergency protection mode! Did something happen at the rehab center?"

For a split second, Mandy's expression shifted. She looked down at me, taking in the cold sweat that drenched my hairline and my ragged breathing.

Whatever flicker of doubt she'd felt vanished from her eyes, replaced by open mockery. "This is a whole performance, isn't it?"

Sam was still shouting on the other end of the line. "Ms. Sutherland? Can you hear me?"

She hung up, turned off her phone, and tossed it back into her bag. "Aiden has an entire Iropan medical team with him. He doesn't need some con artist to save his life."

I lay on the cold, hard bed and listened to my heartbeat, feeling my heart sink with every brutal thud.