The Surgeon He Never Knew Chapter 09

The Surgeon He Never Knew Chapter 09

I didn’t call Damien.

I spent seventy-two hours tearing the evidence apart.

My forensic accountants examined every document, every wire transfer, every digital fingerprint.

Tuesday night, the results came.

“The documents are forgeries.” My lead analyst spread the findings across the table. “Sophisticated, but forgeries. The metadata shows creation six weeks ago-not three years as dated. And the Blackwell subsidiary referenced was dissolved in 2019. It didn’t exist when these transfers supposedly occurred.”

Relief hit so hard my knees buckled.

“Who created them?”

“A law firm: Harper & Associates. Senior partner Victor Harper. Also-”

“Grant’s personal attorney.” I closed my eyes. “Grant. From prison.”

“Communicating through his lawyer. Directing Vivienne. Fabricating evidence to destroy your alliance with

Blackwell.”

Even behind bars. Even facing decades. Still trying to control me.

I called Damien.

He answered immediately, but his voice was wrong. Flat. Guarded.

“I know about the DOJ expansion,” he said. “And what the documents show.”

“They’re forged. My forensic team confirmed it. The Blackwell subsidiary was dissolved years before the

supposed transfers.”

A long exhale. “You investigated me.”

“Yes.”

“Before calling me.”

“Yes. Because the last man I trusted was stealing from me while I slept. I needed proof. Not promises.”

Silence. Then: “You’re right.”

“What?”

“You had every reason to verify. I would have done the same.” His voice softened. “I’m not angry you

investigated me. I’m angry someone gave you reason to doubt.”

My chest cracked open.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be. Be furious. Grant is orchestrating a campaign from prison. He has resources we haven’t cut off.”

He arrived at Mercy within an hour. When he walked into my office, I saw something unexpected-fear. Not of

For me.
“Harper can be reported to the bar. Fabricating evidence is automatic disbarment and criminal charges.”

“Already filed. But Grant will find another lawyer.”

“Not from federal prison. Not if we revoke his communication privileges.” He sat across from me. “There’s something else. My team investigated Harper. He’s not just Grant’s lawyer. He’s Vivienne’s new boyfriend.”

I stared. “What?”

Photos-Vivienne and Harper at restaurants, in cars, entering his apartment.

“They’ve been together two months. Since Grant’s arrest.” Damien’s jaw tightened. “Harper isn’t just playing lawyer. He’s playing both sides-helping Grant from prison while building a relationship with Vivienne and her

unborn baby.”

“Positioning himself to control whatever’s left. Through Vivienne. Through the child.”

“Using a baby as a chess piece.”

“That’s what desperate people do.” He reached across the desk. Took my hand. “But we’re not desperate. We’re prepared.”

I looked at our intertwined fingers.

“I doubted you. For seventy-two hours.”

“And?”

“Every instinct I had screamed you were real.”

His thumb brushed my knuckles. “I am real. This is real. No forged document or prison scheme is going to

change that.”

He pulled me forward and kissed me-hard, claiming, burning away the last seventy-two hours of doubt.

“Let’s finish this,” I whispered.

“Together.”