CHAPTER 45: PLOTTING

In another part of the hospital, two women sat at a corner table, their silhouettes sharp against the lone window’s reflection, where the city’s distant lights winked like conspirators. Helena leaned over a stack of papers and a USB drive, her fingers trembling with the weight of what they held. Sophie sat opposite, her arms crossed, her face a mask of resolve tinged with disgust. They were plotting the downfall of Devon Aldridge , the hospital’s golden god, whose genius in the OR masked a darker truth.

Helena’s voice was a low hiss, barely louder than the coffee machine’s gurgling death rattle. "It’s all here, Sophie. Bank transfers, shell companies, invoices for procedures that never happened. He’s been siphoning money for years, millions, funneled through offshore accounts." She tapped the USB drive, its matte black surface glinting under the flickering light.

"The data shows he encrypted these himself." she slid a single sheet forward, numbers scrawled in a coded shorthand " it ties him to a money-laundering scheme with a pharmaceutical supplier. Kickbacks, inflated billing, the works."

Sophie’s blue eyes flicked to the ledger, her jaw tightening. "You’re sure it’s enough? Helena, the board worships him, donors throw money at him, and the media calls him a miracle worker. People don’t just love him they worship him with shame." Her voice wavered, not from doubt but from the raw memory of what she’d done to secure this evidence.

Helena’s lips curled into a grim smile. "That’s why we’re doing this. He’s not a savior, he’s a thief, a fraud, hiding behind his scalpel. I got through to my contact at the Federal Healthcare Compliance Agency, Agent Marisa Vaughn. She’s reviewed the files. Says they’re a goldmine. Money laundering, wire fraud, maybe even tax evasion.

The FHCA’s been sniffing around shady hospital deals for years, and this? This puts Devon square on their radar."

Sophie leaned back, her chair creaking, her fingers twisting a curl until it snapped taut. Her mind churned with the previous day sacrifice, a calculated play that left her skin crawling.

"Vaughn’s sure about this?" Sophie asked, her voice steady despite the bile in her throat. "Because if we miss, he’ll come for us. He’s not just smart, Helena, he’s ruthless. You’ve seen how he charms everyone, gets away with everything."

Helena nodded, her fingers tracing the folder’s edge. "Vaughn’s certain. The FHCA doesn’t play games with financial crimes, especially not when it’s this big. These records show Devon’s been funneling cash through a fake consultancy ’NeuroTech Solutions.’ It’s a front, Sophie. He’s been overbilling Medicaid, pocketing kickbacks from drug reps, even routing funds to an Islands account. Vaughn’s team is already cross-referencing with bank records. But she warned me, Devon’s got powerful friends. Donors, government officials, maybe even someone in Congress. They love their golden boy, Taking him down will be a fight."

The breakroom felt smaller, the walls pressing in as the gravity of their plan settled. The coffee machine sputtered, a low gurgle that made Sophie flinch, her eyes darting to the door. "How long before they move?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"Weeks, maybe a month," Helena replied, tucking the USB into her jacket pocket, her movements precise. "They need to verify the transfers, subpoena his financials, maybe interview staff quietly. But once the FHCA builds the case, it’s over. Indictments, audits, the works. He’ll be in cuffs before he can charm his way out."

Sophie’s fingers drummed on the table, her nails bitten to the quick. "And if someone tips him off? He’s got eyes everywhere. Nurses, admins, even the janitors love him. One wrong move, and we’re the ones exposed."

Helena’s gaze hardened, her voice cold as steel. "That’s why we keep this airtight. No one else knows, not the research team, not your coffee buddy in the lab, nobody. We play this smart, and Devon’s done. His genius won’t save him from a federal rap sheet."

Unseen in the hallway, a figure lingered just beyond the breakroom’s frosted glass door, where shadows pooled like ink. The scrub nurse who’d stood at Devon’s side in the OR, her graying hair tucked under a cap, her scrubs wrinkled from a 12-hour shift, pressed herself against the wall, her ears straining. She’d been on her way to grab a coffee when she’d caught the hushed urgency of their voices, Devon’s name, the FHCA, words like "fraud" and "laundering." Her pulse quickened, her breath shallow as she pieced together the plot. She stayed, silent as a ghost, until Helena’s voice dropped to a final, chilling promise: "He’s going down, Sophie. No matter what."

Only then did the nurse slip away, her sneakers soundless on the linoleum, her mind a storm of possibilities. She’d always admired Devon, his skill, his brillance, she had even slept with the man, but this was something else. A scandal that could topple a titan. Whether she’d warn him, use it for leverage, or simply watch the chaos unfold, she hadn’t decided. But the knowledge burned in her chest, a spark waiting to ignite.

Back in the breakroom, Helena’s gaze softened, studying Sophie’s tense posture, the way her fingers lingered on that frayed curl. "You okay?" she asked, her voice a rare flicker of warmth. "I know what you did last night... in his office. I heard it all from that wardrobe. It couldn’t have been easy."

Sophie’s lips curved into a jagged smile, a mix of defiance and hidden shame. Her body still hummed with the memory of Devon’s touch, the way he’d claimed her, the raw pleasure she’d fought to deny. She’d never admit it, not to Helena, not to herself. "I’m fine," she said, her voice rough but steady. "It was hell, letting him touch me, but it’s for the cause. We’re burning him and everything he stands for to the ground, Helena. For everyone he’s used, for every lie he’s sold. It’s worth it."

Helena reached across, her hand brushing Sophie’s briefly, a gesture of solidarity. "You’re a goddamn warrior, Sophie. We’re close now. Vaughn’s team will take it from here. We just need to stay sharp."

Sophie stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder, her curls bouncing with forced bravado. "I need a shower and a bottle of wine. But yeah, for the greater good." Her smile lingered, a mask for the conflict within, the pleasure she’d buried deep.

Helena gathered the papers, tucking them into the folder with surgical precision. "Get some rest. We’re in the endgame now. No mistakes."