Chapter 8 - Forty-Seven SecondsLater, Iris would remember forty-seven seconds.
That was how long Nicholas had no effective heartbeat.
Forty-seven seconds during which the world she knew became unbearable.
Security carried an automated defibrillator.
The building medical team responded.
Someone pulled Iris backward.
She fought them.
“Nicholas!”
“Ma’am, move.”
“He needs—”
“We have him.”
She watched from three feet away.
Three feet might as well have been another continent.
Nicholas lay on the carpet beneath the windows of the empire everyone thought he valued more than life.
His shirt had been cut open.
Electrode pads were placed against his chest.
Someone counted.
A shock.
His body moved.
Nothing.
Again.
Iris stopped breathing.
“Come on.”
She did not know she had spoken.
“Come on, Nicholas.”
Another shock.
Then the monitor changed.
A rhythm.
Weak.
Unstable.
But present.
Iris almost collapsed.
The ambulance took twelve minutes to reach the hospital.
Nicholas was conscious briefly.
Long enough to look at Iris.
“Still here?”
Tears spilled down her face.
“Idiot.”
His mouth moved.
Then sedation pulled him away.
Dr. Hale met them in emergency cardiology.
Nicholas had suffered a dangerous ventricular arrhythmia.
The toxin had destabilized electrical conduction.
His damaged heart could no longer be trusted.
“We recommend surgery,” Hale said.
“What surgery?”
“An implanted defibrillator and additional intervention to stabilize the damaged tissue.”
“Will he survive?”
Hale paused.
“No procedure is without risk.”
Iris stared.
“That is a doctor answer.”
“It is the only honest one.”
“How dangerous?”
“Given his current condition? Significant.”
Her throat tightened.
“Without it?”
“The next event may not terminate on its own.”
Meaning he could die.
Nicholas awakened four hours later.
Iris sat beside him.
He looked around.
“Hospital again.”
“You have excellent observational skills.”
“You’re angry.”
“I watched you die on the floor.”
“I didn’t die.”
“You were very committed to the impression.”
His expression softened.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing for things you didn’t choose.”
“Then what should I apologize for?”
“Being stubborn.”
“That is genetic.”
“Apparently we shouldn’t trust anything described as genetic.”
Nicholas laughed weakly.
Then noticed her swollen eyes.
“You cried.”
“I am considering putting that information in the same classified file as yours.”
He reached for her hand.
“Come here.”
She moved closer.
Nicholas studied her.
“Iris.”
“What?”
“If the surgery goes badly—”
“No.”
“You need to know something.”
“I know everything I need.”
“You don’t.”
She looked away.
Nicholas tightened his fingers.
“The will.”
“I don’t care about the will.”
“You should.”
“No.”
“The mansion is still yours.”
“Nicholas.”
“And the lake property.”
“Stop.”
“And there is a trust.”
She stood.
“Stop talking like you’re dead.”
“I’m trying to make sure you are safe.”
“Money does not make me safe.”
His face changed.
She continued.
“You of all people should understand that.”
Silence.
Nicholas looked down.
“You’re right.”
Iris sat again.
“I don’t want your houses.”
“Then sell them.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Give it away.”
“I want you.”
The words escaped before she could control them.
Nicholas stopped breathing.
Not medically this time.
Iris covered her face.
“That was dramatic.”
“I liked it.”
“Of course you did.”
He pulled her hand away.
“Say it again.”
“No.”
“I’m dying.”
“You are not using cardiac damage to manipulate me.”
“Cruel.”
She tried not to smile.
Nicholas became serious.
“I want you too.”
Iris looked at him.
“Not because you stayed that night.”
“I know.”
“Not because I’m frightened.”
“I know.”
“I wanted you before any of this.”
“I know.”
He frowned.
“You knew?”
“You’re less subtle than you think.”
“That is deeply upsetting.”
She laughed.
Nicholas watched her as though the sound itself gave him something.
Then his expression became quiet.
“What if I survive but never become the man I was?”
Iris understood the real fear.
His identity had always been tied to control.
Strength.
Work.
Invincibility.
“What if you don’t?”
“I might not be able to work eighteen-hour days.”
“That sounds medically beneficial.”
“I might need medication forever.”
“So?”
“I may have limitations.”
“So?”
Nicholas stared.
“Iris.”
“You think I fell in love with your cardiovascular endurance?”
His eyes widened.
She froze.
Neither spoke.
Nicholas whispered, “You said love.”
Iris closed her eyes.
“I am having a terrible day.”
He smiled.
A beautiful, astonished smile.
“You love me.”
“Apparently.”
Nicholas looked suddenly young.
Not chairman.
Not billionaire.
Simply a man who had spent his life convinced affection always contained a transaction.
“I love you too.”
Iris’s eyes burned.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“I don’t have a prepared response.”
Nicholas reached up and touched her face.
“This is becoming a deeply inefficient declaration.”
“Then stop talking.”
She kissed him.
When they separated, Nicholas’s forehead rested against hers.
“I want the surgery.”
Relief moved through her.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His eyes stayed on hers.
“Because yesterday I was willing to die without fighting.”
“And today?”
“Today there are things I want tomorrow.”
Surgery was scheduled for the next morning.
At 6:00, Iris arrived before the nurses.
Nicholas was awake.
Evelyn came at 6:20.
Marcus at 6:30.
Margaret called at 6:45.
Even several board members sent messages.
Nicholas looked at Iris.
“Apparently I have friends.”
“Terrible development.”
“Completely ruins my image.”
At 7:10, the surgical team arrived.
Iris walked beside his bed until the secured doors.
There she had to stop.
Nicholas looked up.
“Stay.”
It was the same word.
Different meaning.
The first time, he had asked her to stay because he believed there would be no morning.
Now he asked because he wanted someone waiting when morning continued.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
The doors closed.
Six hours later, Dr. Hale emerged.
Iris stood so quickly her chair fell backward.
“How is he?”
The doctor removed his mask.
“The procedure was successful.”
She cried before he finished.
“He had complications, but we controlled them. The device is functioning correctly.”
“He’s alive?”
“Yes.”
Iris laughed through tears.
Dr. Hale smiled.
“He is very much alive.”
When Nicholas woke, the room was dark.
Iris sat beside him.
His voice was weak.
“How long?”
“Six hours.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“How long were you here?”
“Since before sunrise.”
Nicholas smiled faintly.
“You stayed.”
“Again.”
May you like
His eyes closed.
This time, there was no fear.
