Chapter 171
Chapter 171:
“I have the best specialists in the world at the Kensington Medical Wing,” Catherine Kensington offered immediately. “It is a private facility. Secure. State-of-the-art. He would be the only patient in the VIP ward p>
Aurora hesitated. She had the money, but the Kensington Wing had experimental protocols she didn’t have access to yet.
“It’s the best place for him,” Elias murmured in her ear. “And it’s a fortress p>
Aurora looked at Arthur. He looked frail.
“Okay,” Aurora conceded. “We move him. But I supervise every treatment p>
“Of course,” Catherine agreed. “You own the hospital now, after all p>
Aurora blinked. “I what p>
“I bought the controlling stake this morning,” Catherine admitted casually. “To ensure no one questions your authority p>
Elias chuckled. “Standard billionaire behavior p>
Vivian rolled her eyes. “Great. Now the hillbilly gets the royal suite p>
Elias stepped in front of Vivian. He loomed over her, his shadow swallowing her.
“One more word,” Elias whispered, “and I buy your favorite boutique and burn it down. With your wardrobe inside p>
Vivian shut her mouth audibly.
As the medical transport team arrived to move Arthur, Aurora packed a small bag. She looked at her penthouse. She wasn’t leaving it, but she was stepping onto a new battlefield.
Down on the street, a shadowed figure watched the ambulance load up. He dialed a phone.
“She’s moving the old man,” the spy whispered. “Phase two begins p>
“I’m fine, little bird,” Arthur rasped, his voice weak but stubborn. “Stop looking at me like I’m already in a pine box p>
“You scared me, Grandpa,” Aurora said softly, adjusting the blanket. “You need to rest. The doctors said p>
“Doctors don’t know everything,” Arthur interrupted, a wheezing cough rattling his chest. He gestured shakily toward the bedside table where his worn leather satchel sat. “Open it. The side pocket p>
Aurora reached for the bag. It was the same bag he used to carry his tools when he worked odd jobs to pay for her coding classes. Inside the pocket, her fingers brushed against a small, velvet-covered box.
“I didn’t steal it,” Arthur whispered as she pulled it out, his eyes clouding with memory. “Your mother… Isabella… she gave it to me the night she brought you to me. I know I told you I found you abandoned in the park, that you were alone in the cold. I had to tell that story. It was the only way to make sure no one looked for a connection back to this house. But the truth is, she came to my door in the rain, terrified. She put you in my arms and said it was the only way to keep you alive p>
Aurora looked at the box. The velvet was worn bald in patches, a testament to how often her grandfather must have checked on it over the years, ensuring her legacy was safe even when they couldn’t afford heat.
She pressed the small brass latch. It clicked open.
Inside lay a silver locket. It was tarnished, the metal dull and grey, but the engraving on the front was sharp. A phoenix rising from a bed of ivy.
Her breath hitched. A phantom sensation washed over her—a memory of cold metal against a child’s warm skin, the smell of lavender perfume, a soft voice humming a lullaby. It wasn’t a delusion; it was a fragment of a life stolen.