Chapter 2
Chapter 2: The Ghost of the Past
The executive lounge on the fourth floor was silent, insulated from the chaotic underbelly of the hospital by triple-paned glass and mahogany paneling. Maya sat on a plush leather sofa that was far too large for her, her small sandals dangling several inches above the thick carpet. She held a silver cup of warm milk with both hands, her amber eyes wide as she watched Jordan pace back and forth in front of the windows.
He had removed his jacket. His silk tie was loosened, and his sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing the heavy gold watch that had caught her eye earlier. He stopped pacing and looked at her.
“How old are you, Maya?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been downstairs, though still carrying the authoritative weight of a man used to giving orders.
“I’m seven, sir,” she said before taking a careful sip of the milk. “My birthday was last month. Mommy made me a small cake out of biscuits because the stove in our room was broken.”
Seven. Jordan’s hand tightened around his phone. The math was indisputable. When Elena had walked out of his small apartment in the rainy spring of 2019, she hadn't left him for another man. She had left because his ambition had turned him into a stranger, and she had carried his child into the shadows rather than let it be raised by a corporate machine.
The door to the lounge opened, and Dr. Gabriel stepped in, wearing green surgical scrubs stained with small spots of dark blood. His expression was solemn but steady.
“Jordan,” Gabriel said, crossing his arms. “She’s out of the theater. The hemorrhaging was severe, but we managed to stabilize the uterine wall. We saved her life, Jordan. By less than five minutes. If you hadn't authorized the bypass, she would have coded in the hallway.”
Jordan let out a breath he felt he had been holding for five years. “And the child? The girl said she was pregnant.”
Dr. Gabriel glanced at Maya, then lowered his voice as he stepped closer to Jordan. “The pregnancy was early—barely twelve weeks. The physical stress and the lack of proper nutrition caused a spontaneous miscarriage, Jordan. There was nothing we could do to save the embryo. Elena is in the recovery ward now. She’s heavily sedated, but she’ll wake up within the hour.”
Maya looked up from her cup, her sharp ears catching the tone of gravity. “Is my mommy okay, sir? Can I see her?”
Jordan walked over to the sofa and knelt in front of her for the second time that day. He reached out, his large, rough hand hesitating before gently resting on her head, smoothing down one of the loose puffs of hair. “Your mommy is safe, Maya. The doctors fixed the problem. She’s resting now, but I’m going to take you to see her.”
“Thank you, rich man,” she whispered, a small, genuine smile breaking through the grime on her cheeks.
“My name is Jordan,” he said, his throat tight. “You can call me Jordan.”
As he led her down the long, sterile corridor toward the intensive care unit, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a high-priority notification from his legal team. The final documents for the acquisition of the global transport conglomerate were waiting for his digital signature. The deal that would solidfy his status as the youngest billionaire in the region was sitting in his inbox, requiring thirty seconds of his time.
May you like
He looked down at Maya, who was holding his index finger with her entire hand to keep from slipping on the polished floor.
He slid the phone back into his pocket without unlocking the screen. The empire could wait. The king had a ghost to confront.
