The Hughes Corp, top-floor executive office.
Yates Donovan yawned, ambling slowly out of the elevator.
He'd just come from the hospital. 'That old bastard Yael Donovan sure is hard to kill.'
When Silas Grant made his move, Yael Donovan didn't die.
He'd sent someone to finish the job, but he still didn't die.
'He thought Yael wouldn't even survive the trip to the hospital, but who knew? The man still hadn't kicked the bucket.'
He'd been stopping by to check on him whenever he had time these past couple of days.
'He didn't want to bother, really. He'd even considered secretly pulling Yael Donovan's oxygen tube.'
But the old man got wind of it and gave a strict order: he was to take good care of Yael Donovan in Portia.
Tsk.
'The old man had heard the news much faster than he'd expected. He wondered if Yael Donovan had a contingency plan.'
