MILA
Gilmore has been blowing up my phone since last night. Calls. Texts. More calls. He will not stop.
"Update, Mila. Update."
His last message reads like a demand.
I stare at the screen as if the words are written in a foreign language. My left eye twitches. The letters blur together. I have been sitting in the Echelon Medical Center lobby for nearly ten minutes, staring at my phone, wondering what to tell him.
What would I even say that would make sense? That Visconti played us all and that L'Etoile Noir was never on his mind for a partnership?
I shake my head. He would never believe the truth. He would rather blame me. My late arrival, my supposed incompetence, anything to avoid responsibility.
I drum my fingers on my lap.
I can't avoid Gilmore forever. Calling in sick today was foolish, but I had no choice. A few seconds after I emailed my sick notice to Felicia, my phone buzzed. Gilmore's name lit up the screen.
I did not answer.
Not because I did not want to. The first time, my phone slipped from my clammy grip. The second time, my hands were shaking too badly to swipe. I watched my phone ring until it stopped.
"Mila?" someone calls.
I look up, pulled from my thoughts. I expected to see the nurse who told me to wait while she informed Dan Kane's secretary of my arrival.
Instead, I see a familiar face.
Dr. Tracy, one of the senior neurologists. She's been friends with my mother for years.
I breathe a silent prayer of thanks. Maybe the universe is on my side after all. Dr. Tracy could bypass the bureaucratic protocols and get me in to see Dan Kane.
I manage a smile as I regard her.
"Hi, Dr. Tracy."
"Here to check on your mother?" she says. Her eyes glisten with compassion.
There is no need to beat around the bush. She probably already knows about my mother's situation.
I walk toward her.
"I need to see Mr. Kane. It is urgent."
Her expression softens. "You know he does not usually take walk-ins," she says. "But let me see what I can do. Have you been here long?"
"Not really."
My nerves betray my words. I rub my palms together in a useless attempt to slow my racing pulse.
"Give me a minute," she says.
Five minutes later, she returns.
"He will see you. But only for a few minutes. He has a meeting."
The weight in my chest lifts slightly.
"Thank you, Dr. Tracy," I say, offering a weak smile.
She clasps my hands in hers.
"Good luck, Mila. Your mother would be proud of you for fighting."
I nod, my throat tight. I will need all the luck I can get.
Dr. Tracy leaves. I head to the waiting area outside Dan Kane's office.
I stop and stare at his door.
My gaze falls on the golden plaque.
DANIEL R. KANE, CEO.
You can do this, Mila.
I take a deep breath.
My phone beeps just as I raise my hand to knock.
Another message from Gilmore.
Something twists inside my chest. For a brief second, I consider turning off my phone.
Don't be a coward. You can't avoid him forever.
I open the message.
"Do not play this sick game with me, Mila. I swear I will fire you this time if I find out you messed this up for me again."
Messed this up for him? Again?
My jaw clenches.
What a selfish bastard. I have been saving his company for two years. My designs. My work. And he takes all the credit while I get criticized for being late to one meeting.
My fingers fly over the keyboard.
Before I can second guess myself, I type out a reply.
"Meeting went well. Visconti wants to discuss details in person later this week. I will update you when I am back in the office."
Heat rises in my chest as I hit send.
I barely have time to reread the message before the door swings open.
I look up.
Father.
My stomach drops.
The door opens wider, revealing Dan Kane beside him. Both men are in expensive suits, clearly finishing a meeting.
"Oh, Mila." My father's expression changes instantly. His brows lift in mild surprise. I might have believed him if I did not know him better. "Dan did not mention you would be stopping by."
He turns to Dan with a questioning look.
"A surprise to me as well," Dan says, though his expression remains carefully neutral.
I force my expression to stay calm.
Keep it together, Mila.
"Actually, I was hoping I could see you, Uncle Dan," I say.
The word Uncle tastes bitter on my tongue.
I have not thought of him that way in months.
He used to be the man I looked up to after my father. The same man who taught me to ride a bike. Who promised he would always look after Mum if anything happened to Arthur.
He stopped earning my respect the day he sided with my father.
Dan's face crumples with what is supposed to be sympathy, but it rings hollow with my father watching.
"I hope it can wait, dear. I am already late for a meeting. Maybe next week? I am afraid my schedule this week is tight."
"Give me more time."
The words rush out of my mouth.
"I know you have the power to change the board's decision."
"Mila," he sighs. "I wish I could help you."
"You can," I remind him. "Should it not count for something that my mother worked for you? Or that she trusts you like her own brother? Uncle, I will pay back all the debts we owe. Every single penny. Just please do not move my mother to a state facility."
"You do not even have a job. You are bankrupt. Surely you do not expect Dan to hand out free treatment like he runs a charity clinic."
The familiar deep voice sends goosebumps across my skin.
I glance at my father. He is glaring at me, deep wrinkles forming between his brows.
Something inside me snaps.
I almost remind him that I do have a job. But my father does not hold L'Etoile Noir in high esteem since it is not as prestigious as the fashion houses he frequents.
"If you will excuse us, Dan and I were just leaving."
Dan Kane pats my shoulder with a sigh and they step forward.
My heart rate spikes.
I cannot let them leave like this.
Visconti's contract flashes through my mind. I blink the thought away.
"One week."
The words slip out in a rush.
"I'll find a way to pay. I just need one week. Please."
They pause.
My father spins around before Dan Kane has the chance.
"For God's sake, Mila, be realistic. Elena is already a lost cause. Her condition is deteriorating. You do not have the funds to sustain her treatment. Dan has been gracious to you and you have been nothing but exploitative and ungrateful. Can you not see she has been a vegetable for months?"
My brows furrow. Dan Kane tries to hold Arthur back from continuing, but he shrugs him off.
"Dan has been trying his best to protect you, but you are too blind to realize it."
His voice lowers dangerously as he steps forward.
"You want to save your mother, right? Then go ahead. But do not drag Echelon into your mess."
I clutch the strap of my purse.
This is too far, even for Arthur. Whatever issues he and Mum had in their marriage should never amount to this.
My father shakes his head, glaring at me.
"I do not even recognize you anymore," he says quietly. "I knew from the start that she was incapable of raising you. Look at how she poisoned your mind. She made you so delusional that you cannot even read between the lines."
I scoff. If there is anyone who did a poor job raising me, it is him. But I hold back from saying it, even though every part of me itches to throw the words in his face. He is not the one I am here for.
I look past him at Dan Kane.
"I beg you to reconsider," I say softly. "Just give me more time. I will find the money. Every single penny. I just need you to be patient with me."
Dan Kane's jaw shifts from side to side as he studies me silently.
"We should leave now, Dan. We would not want to be late," Father calls.
Dan Kane checks his watch. His brows furrow. When he looks up again, something in his expression shifts.
"I am sorry, Mila," he says.
Three words.
Then they both walk away, their footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Visconti's face flashes in my mind. The sly curve of his lips. His dark, unsettling gaze. The sharp angles of his chiseled face.
Then suddenly the words of his contract replay in my head.
I think of his business card. His number. His certainty.
It's only a matter of time now, and I have nowhere else to run.