“Eight million.” Sophia raised the offer.

“Still too low for the risk.”

“Ten million. That’s my final offer,” Sophia stated coldly.

The tone on the other end shifted immediately.

“Very well, Miss Reed. That’s acceptable. I’ll handle it. Who’s the target?”

Sophia spoke each word with icy clarity.

“Eleanor Vance, at the downtown hospital.”

“Understood, Miss Reed. It will be done quietly. No traces left behind.”

Sophia ended the call and collapsed onto the bed, her body trembling violently.

The hospital room reeked of antiseptic.

Slowly, Isabella stirred awake, blinking away the haze of sleep.

On the adjacent bed, Eleanor lay motionless, the IV drip marking time with its rhythmic sound.

“Grandma…” Isabella’s voice was weak, her throat dry.

She tried to sit up but lacked the strength. She turned her head slightly, her eyes landing on the white lilies beside the bed.

Then she noticed movement.

A doctor, fully dressed in a white coat, mask, and cap, stood near Eleanor’s bed.

He held a syringe, preparing to inject its contents into the IV line.

Isabella’s instincts screamed.

She strained to see his face, but he kept his head down.

As he reached for the tube, Isabella shouted, “Stop! What are you giving her?”

The man froze. He turned slowly toward her.

Sweat glistened on his forehead under the bright lights. His eyes darted nervously.

“It’s… just nutrients,” he stammered, his voice unsteady.

Dread coiled in Isabella’s stomach.

She knew all of Eleanor’s doctors. This man was unfamiliar.

A real doctor wouldn’t act so nervous.

“Which department are you from? I haven’t seen you before,” Isabella pressed, fighting to keep her voice calm.

He avoided her gaze. “I’m new. Today’s my first day.”

Isabella’s suspicion spiked.

A new doctor administering injections alone? Without supervision?

“Show me your ID,” she demanded, her tone sharp.

The man panicked. He patted his pockets frantically but found nothing.

His breathing grew ragged. Beads of sweat rolled down his temple.