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This idiot is going to make me break half the furniture in here if he keeps this shit up. “Fine. Take the fucking phone. Reply to Isabelle for all I care. Just get the fuck out so I can at least get some workdone.”

He gets to his feet, but sets down the phone before turning to leave. “All right, bruh. I’m out. Took care ofthat drama for youtoo.”

Snatching up the phone, I unlock the screen to check my texts. I want to know what kind of damage this idiot has done. Except, my secretary’s voice comes over my desk phone intercom at the sametime.

“Mr. Steele?” she calls out, her voicefrantic.

“What’s up?” Ianswer.

“A call just came in from Mount Sinai. I’m sorry, sir. It’s yourgrandfather.”

My body tenses at the mention of Pops. “What happened?” Iask.

“They need you to go in. They said it’surgent.”

I scoop up my phone and keys, and tell my secretary I’ll be there as soon as I can on my way down the hall to theelevators.

This can’t be thecall.

I refuse to believeit.

It’s too fuckingsoon.