Chapter 7 - The Ultimatum
Julian’s hand clutched the edge of the glass table so hard his knuckles turned white, but his voice remained steady. "They are not your property, Arthur. And if you come near this building, I will broadcast every single medical report in this briefcase to the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the national press."
A quiet, dry chuckle sounded over the phone line—a sound completely devoid of humor.
"The FBI?" Arthur said smoothly. "Do you truly believe you are the first person to threaten me with federal authorities, my son? Half the regional field office directors have their blind trusts managed by my firm. The judge who signed Clara’s committal papers sits on the board of my foundation. You have pieces of paper, Julian. I have the infrastructure."
Clara leaned close to the phone, her voice cold and cutting. "You're a sick old man, Arthur. Your body is dying, and no amount of stolen blood is going to save you from what's coming."
"Ah, Clara," Arthur replied, his tone shifting into something terrifyingly casual. "I hear your spirit hasn't been entirely crushed yet. Admirable. But let us discuss reality, shall we? You left the estate in a hurry. You left without your passport, without your daughter's birth certificate, without your medical license credentials, and most importantly... without Lily's daily medication."
Clara froze. Her eyes darted toward the hallway leading to the guest bedroom where Lily was sleeping.
"What medication?" Clara demanded. "She doesn't have a daily medication! Her asthma inhaler is in my purse!"
"The inhaler was just a prop, my dear," Arthur purred through the speaker. "For the past fourteen months, during those clinic visits you so faithfully attended, Lily was injected with a specialized immunosuppressive stabilizer. It was necessary to keep her body from rejecting the modified cellular treatments we were extracting. Without a maintenance dose every forty-eight hours... her immune system will begin to hyper-react. A violent cytokine storm. High fever, respiratory collapse, organ failure within thirty-six hours."
Clara felt the room drop into sub-zero temperatures. She leaped up from the couch, sprinting down the hallway into the guest bedroom. She pulled back the blanket.
Lily was still sleeping, but her pale cheeks were flushed with a unnatural, blotchy red heat. Clara pressed her palm against the child's forehead. It was burning.
"Julian!" Clara screamed in sheer agony. "Julian, she's burning up!"
Julian rushed into the bedroom, holding the phone against his ear. His eyes widened in absolute horror as he saw his daughter feverishly twisting in the sheets.
"What did you do to her, you monster?!" Julian roared into the phone.
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"I protected my investment," Arthur answered coldly. "Bring Clara and the child back to the estate by midnight tonight. Clara will sign the voluntary admission papers for the clinic, and Lily will receive her stabilizer dose. Refuse... and you can watch your daughter suffocate in your arms while the emergency rooms stand helpless, entirely ignorant of the synthetic biological compound in her bloodstream."
The line went dead with a soft, final click.
