Page 61 of Royal Beast
“This is St. Lucien’s Hospital. You’re listed as Max Flynn’s emergency contact. Your father collapsed and had to be brought in.”
The room seems to tilt, my grip tightening on the counter for support. “What’s going on?” I ask, my voice wobbling. “Is he okay?”
“He’s in stable condition, but he’s sedated right now,” the person says. “We need more information. Does he have any conditions we should be aware of?”
“He’s… he’s got cancer,” I say, swallowing hard. “Oh, my God. Is that what’s happening? Is it the cancer?”
“We’ll keep you informed, Ms. Flynn. For now, we’re running tests. Can you come in and help us with more information on him?”
I feel like I can’t breathe. I’ve been so caught up in my own problems that I’d pushed all my father’s stuff to the side, trying to pretend like it didn’t exist, and now here I am, confronted face to face with it.
What’s going to happen to him?
30
KELLAN
The office is alive with the hum of activity, phones ringing, people rushing in and out, but I barely notice any of it. My mind is still riding the adrenaline rush of last night’s move—the hit we delivered to Anatoly’s empire was a thing of beauty. The press is eating it up, the Russians’ carefully curated alliances already starting to crumble.
A grin tugs at my lips as I glance over a few reports on my desk. For once, everything feels like it’s moving in the right direction.
Then the phone rings.
I let it go to voicemail at first, thinking it’s one of the endless calls about the aftermath of the club leak. But it rings again. And again. Finally, with a growl of irritation, I grab it.
“This is Brannagan,” I snap.
The voice on the other end is cheerful in a way that immediately puts me on edge. “Mr. Brannagan, this is Steve Mallory from WKMT News Seven. I’m hoping you’ll comment on some new developments regarding your family.”
My grip tightens on the receiver. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Oh, I think you’ll want to make time,” he says smoothly. “We’ve received some rather… compelling information about your father, Lachlan Sr, and the mysterious departure of your mother. We have sources that say she didn’t just disappear, that he possibly murdered her…”
The blood drains from my face, replaced by a cold fury. “What did you just say?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll read all about it soon enough. Our sources we quite… informative,” he continues, the glee in his voice unmistakable.
I hang up without another word, slamming the phone down so hard it rattles on the desk.
The high from earlier vanishes, replaced by an ice-cold knot in my stomach. Anatoly didn’t just strike back—he went for the throat.
Within minutes, the fallout begins. Calls flood in from our legitimate businesses, concerned board members demanding explanations. Then come the questions about our father’s integrity, about the image we’ve fought so hard to maintain.
For the rest of the day, I’m in full damage-control mode, fielding calls, meeting with PR, and trying to put out a fire I never saw coming.
By the time the office empties, my hands are clenched into fists and my jaw aches from grinding my teeth. Anatoly didn’t just attack our operations. He’s coming for our legacy, our reputation. There’s no way in hell I’m letting this slide. He can go after our businesses, our men, but going after my father? That’s a line you don’t cross. If the bastard thinks I’ll let that slide, he has another thing coming.
Once I head home, my bad mood continues and I find myself snapping at Darcy unfairly. I’m just so stressed and worried, especially now that Anatoly has proven he’ll go after family. What if he targets them next?
I see the hurt in Darcy’s eyes, but I don’t know what to say to make it better right now.
And then the call comes in.
The second I see Darcy’s expression crumble, my anger dissipates like smoke in the wind. Whatever frustration I was clinging to is drowned out by the sheer panic in her eyes. She’s clutching her phone so tightly her knuckles have gone white.
“Darcy?” I step closer, my voice steady, but she doesn’t respond right away, frozen in the moment.
Finally, she lowers the phone from her ear, her voice trembling as she whispers, “It’s my dad. He collapsed. They’ve taken him to the hospital.”
