Chapter 319 Billionaire's Lies

• The acrid odor of antiseptics wafted on, sterile and heavy. It hung in well-lit passageways in St. Martin General Hospital, echoing off tiled floors scrubbed spotless. Nurses rushed through, their soft-sold footwear barely making any sound as they blazed through doors to a room, bringing medication and checking vital signs. There was a single passageway that differed.
• Two uniformed police officers stood outside Room 312 like granite statues, staring and unblinking. They loomed oppressively over the otherwise antiseptic air. Within, the man they were instructed to protect lay unconscious, strapped to monitors and IVs.
• William Harper was in no way the towering figure the world was used to having beforehand. He was pinched and gaunt to the face, lips dry and cracked, and a wide bandage across his forehead. There was the soft beep of the heart monitor, slow. He breathed, but little else.