Chapter 60

Brad, as a soldier, stood tall in his tailored suit. Broad shoulders and a narrow waist gave him the sharp look of a blade waiting to strike. There was strength in every line of fabric, quiet but ready to erupt.

One hand rested in his pocket. The other, shaped by familiar tension, curled lightly against the gold-colored railing. His fingers showed signs of old habits -faint calluses from handling a gun. Still, they didn't take away from his quiet grace.

Light slid across the hard edges of his face. From beneath steady brows, his eyes swept over the room with the practiced calm of a man used to holding authority.

Tucked at Brad's collar, a small golden insignia offered the only hint of his life before the boardroom.

As he moved down the stairs, his shoes gleamed with each step. The rhythm of his descent was sharp and deliberate, carried not by fashion, but by habit born fromn years of training.

At the last step, he stopped and tugged gently at his tie. That small, thoughtless motion brought attention to the clean lines of his neck. A few in the room forgot to breathe.

"Thank you for waiting." Brad's voice landed deep.Each word was rough around the edges, but steady.

Even in a suit, he gave the sense of a predator in disguise. Like a wolf dressed in silk, holding back teeth sharp enough to tear through flesh.

Marsha's hand slipped. Her coffee cup tipped and splashed the liquid over the white tablecloth. She hadn't realized that she was holding her breath.

The doctors stood at once.

"Mr. Morgan!" Evita stepped ahead, hope flashing in her eyes. "I've reviewed your case closely and outlined an initial plan for treatment-"

Brad lifted a hand to stop her mid-sentence.

"I'm not here to hear words. I want to see skill."

His eyes drifted over the crowd, pausing just slightly on Rylie. "I've brought three patients with conditions like mine. Their records are available to all of you.Your task is to name the illness and explain how you'd treat it. I'll be the one deciding who gets it right."

Evita met his challenge head-on. "Mr. Morgan, your illness is among the rarest we've ever seen. If someone here can treat those patients as well as l can,what happens then?"

Brad held her gaze and answered without flinching,"Then I'd ask you to craft a plan that stands above the rest, Ms. Wilde. Because for me, there's only one doctor who can take the lead."

Even among the brightest minds in medicine, he only needed one. The silence between them hinted at a rivalry that needed no words.

Evita held onto her confidence as she asked,"Then how do we begin consulting with the patients?"

"You can go solo or team up. I'm not picking for you,"said Brad.

That left the door wide open for anyone aiming to form smart alliances.

Evita was sure that she and her granddaughter could hold their own. So when Leland stepped in, thinking that his past connection with Marsha might give him a way in, she turned him down without blinking.

She gave his outstretched hand a quick glance, a smirk tugging at her mouth.

With a slow motion, she adjusted her sleeve. Her eyes never even met his.

"Dr. Kirk," she said, loud enough for the nearby tables to catch, "we've handled our medical work just fine without help from the outside."

Leland froze halfway through the gesture, his hand hanging there awkwardly. His face tightened with unease. He had expected at least a small nod of respect. With his degrees and his name, he thought that Marshall and her grandmother would show basic manners. But they just shut him out without a second thought.

There was a time, back when the Kirks still had pull,when Marsha might've kept up appearances. She would've smiled, maybe even humored him. But that era was gone. Their name didn't hold weight anymore.

Marsha stood beside her grandmother and let out a small laugh. "Dr. Kirk, maybe you should head over to Rylie." She paused for effect.

Then her eyes cut across the room and landed on Rylie. "A thief working together with a fool-what a good team!"