Aiden Knight's POV
The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime. I step into the hospital corridor, the familiar scent of antiseptic and floor cleaner filling my nostrils. My footsteps echo against the polished tiles as I make my way toward the ICU waiting area.
I'd sensed Chloe's distress through our connection. The bond between us runs deeper than most people understand. When someone you care about is drowning in despair, you feel it in your bones.
The waiting room comes into view, and I pause at the entrance. Chloe sits hunched in a plastic chair, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Around her, several well-dressed people cluster together, their voices carrying an air of authority and disdain.
"The arrangements are set," a sharp-faced woman with perfectly styled hair declares. "Tomorrow at noon."
"Good," replies a heavy-set man in an expensive suit. "The sooner this is handled, the better."
