Page 17 of Dash

The man stammered. “M-Monique said that—”

“I don’t give a fuck what Monique said,” I barked. “When I give an order, youwillfollow it. Thena needs to go to the hospital. Right now.”

“No hospital for Ms. Astor,” Monique proclaimed, displaying a reckless disposition and a total disregard for the beast roaring inside of me looking to blame someone for Thena’s pain, anyone. “Ms. Astor gave me strict instructions. Everything must look normal around here. An ambulance won’t help with that. Paolo, notify Ms. Astor’s driver. Call the private elevator and clear the hallway. We’ll take Ms. Astor downstairs. Then I’ll take her home.” She picked up the documents from the floor, dropped them on the desk, and sneered at me. “This is all happening because of you. She was managing fine untilyoushowed up.”

Paolo darted out of the room to do Monique’s bidding. Anger made me see in flashes of red, coloring my sight of Monique’s bulldog face. “Who the fuck do you think you are, denying Thena the care she needs?”

“I was her father’s assistant for thirty years, and now she relies on me.” Monique looked over her glasses at me. “She won’tlike this spectacle you’re creating.”

“Has she been sick like this before?” I demanded.

“I don’t have to answer your questions.” Monique turned up her squat nose at me.

“Yes, you do.” Jorge Rivera, Thena’s Chief of Security, advanced into the room, taking in the situation. “Mr. Dagger here is the new CEO of the Astor Group. Legal confirmed and the press release just went live on the web. If you don’t want to land your ass on the street, you better answer his questions immediately.”

“Oh.” Monique shrunk before Rivera’s six-foot frame.

Glancing into the bathroom, he went in, picked up my cane from the floor, and stalked over to me. “How is she?” he asked, handing me the cane.

“Her pulse is fast, her breathing is shallow, and she’s unconscious.” I set the cane aside. “Then there’s that.” I nudged my chin toward the bathroom, where the open door revealed blood staining the floor and dripping from the toilet seat.

Rivera cursed. “Fuck.”

My thoughts exactly.

I growled at Monique. “You were about to answer my question.”

“Sorry, yes.” Her attitude made a one-eighty. “Ms. Astor has had several episodes of pain, vomiting, and fatigue since her father passed. At first, we thought it was stress, but they kept happening. She went to the doctor last week. Given her risk factors, he ordered a battery of tests. She’s awaiting the results now.”

Risk factors. Thena’s mother had died at an early age from a very aggressive disease. I looked down on the only woman I’d ever loved. Her jaw was locked in a clench and her arms were wrapped tight around her middle. A memory of Doña Lupe toward the end chilled my insides. Thena must be terrified.So was I.

“How do you know all of this?” Rivera demanded in his booming voice.

“After her father’s funeral, I found Ms. Astor passed out, right here, in this office,” Monique said.

“Was there blood then?” I asked.

Monique’s small eyes darted to the bathroom before they shifted back to me. “Jesus.” She shook her head. “No.”

Rivera fingered his handlebar mustache and frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“She forbade me to tell anyone.” Monique shifted on her feet. “She made me promise I’d keep it a secret. She asked me to make an appointment for her with a specialist. I even drove her to the tests that required sedation.”

Sedation?

I trapped the growl in my throat. It riled me that Thena had a big family and yet she’d relied on an employee to get through this. Where the hell were her sisters? Why weren’t they involved in all of this? Hell, Thena could’ve called me. I would’ve been there for her.

Not if she believed you’d failed Nixandbetrayed her, whatever that last one means.

“Monique,” Rivera muttered, visibly seething. “That information belonged with me.”

“She said the buzzards would start circling if anyone knew,” Monique defended herself in a pleading voice. “She worried the stock could tank if her condition became public.”

Thena had not been wrong about that.

“What doctor?” I demanded. “What hospital?”

“Presbyterian,” the woman said. “Dr. Jacob, best in his field.”

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