Billionaire's Threat (4 page)

“What… Is there anything we can do?” I asked.

“Maddie,” she said as she stood from her chair. The doctor placed the folder down in her chair and then turned to face me. “There’s really only one thing
to
do. I hope you understand why. This kind of thing happens.”

I felt my forehead wrinkle in disbelief. I shook my head and protested. “No, I won’t. I won’t do it. No!”

“Maddie,” she said, as she wrapped her fingers around my shoulders with a soft embrace. “An abortion is the safest thing for you and the humane thing to do for the fetus.”

I know she didn’t mean it, but the way she said ‘fetus’ was as if my child,
Grey’s baby
, was almost like a tumor that had to come out. Sickened, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“I said ‘no’! Didn’t you hear me?”

Sensing my growing indignation, Dr. Simms released me and stepped back a bit. She nodded and clasped her hands together in front of her body.

“Look, I understand you’re upset.” She shook her head and gestured towards my stomach. “But, you’re young and otherwise healthy. There’s no reason why you and your husband can’t try again.”

The iciness in my veins turned to streaks of red hot panic as she spoke. I jumped to my feet and chewing my lower lip between my teeth I replied, “I’m, uh, I’m not married.”

The doctor nodded as she stepped aside. “Oh, all right. Well, your boyfriend, significant other…”

Cutting her off, I said, “I don’t have one of those either.”

Dr. Simms remained silent for a moment and then cleared her throat.

“I see.”

“I’m not giving up my baby, doctor. I won’t,” I blurted out. “I don’t care what you say. I won’t let Grey’s… my baby… just be destroyed. Never.”

The doctor acknowledged my comment in a way that suggested she’d heard pleas like mine once or twice before.

“Maddie, the baby is not the only one at risk in this scenario.” She continued in a solemn tone, “If you go through with this, the odds are very high you could damage your chances to have another child in the future. Beyond that, as I already explained, the chance of survival is only fifty-fifty and even if it does, then…”

“Yes, I know, I know!” I screamed. “Birth defects and everything. I heard you!”

Almost as soon as the words spewed from my mouth, I shook my head.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Simms,” I said, as I exhaled. “I… I shouldn’t have acted like that. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head as she looked at me in silence for a moment.

“Maddie, as your doctor, it’s my responsibility to give you the best advice I can. Now under these circumstances, I
strongly urge you
to consider terminating the pregnancy.”

I shook my head. My resolve came from somewhere. Maybe it was denial. I have no idea but nothing she could tell me would change my mind.

“No.” I replied. “I won’t do it. I want you to explain exactly what will happen to me and the baby if I don’t.”

Dr. Simms thinned her lips at my refusal.

“Um, well,” she began. “The likely outcome is that your condition will continue to worsen. Vomiting frequency and intensity will increase. There’s significant risk to your vital organs, especially your heart and kidneys and…”

“The baby, Doctor,” I interrupted. “What about the baby?”

She nodded. “As I said, there is a fifty percent chance, in practical terms, your baby could survive. Of course that doesn’t speak to the financial burden of care you’ll be left with, which will be substantial. A newborn with conditions such as these is, well…”

As to emphasize her point, she allowed her voice to trail away.

“Okay,” I replied. “What do I have to do? To give the baby the best chance I can to survive?”

“That’s simple, Maddie. Should you choose to go this route, you’ll be on strict bed rest at a point in the very near future. A matter of weeks, perhaps, if not sooner.”

My responsibilities, real life, everything I’d blocked from my awareness suddenly came flooding back. The movie, the business. There was no way I could get away with bed rest. Impossible!

“No, no Doctor,” I began. “I… I can’t be on bed rest. I’ve got to work. It’s not something I can miss. There’s no way.”

“I’m afraid you have no choice, Maddie.”

GREY

Life never seems to deal things out in a fair way. Sound like a load of shit coming from someone like me doesn’t it? Silver spoons and such. Well, here’s a little secret the rich don’t want you to know.

We put our pants on the same way as everyone else.

In other words, unless you’re born a king, we’ve all got the same challenges when we come kicking and screaming into this world. It’s about taking the bullshit the universe throws at you, balling it up and hurling it right back with a middle finger up in the process.

In other words, it’s hard work getting to where I am.

Funny how so few men have the stomach for it. Most would rather believe it’s all a matter of luck.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard people tell me how lucky I am. Bullshit. Fuck luck. Luck is the lazy man’s excuse for not grabbing life by the balls and twisting it to get what he wants. You make your own luck. Of course, the sort of fortitude you need to make that happen comes from years and years of effort or learning how it’s done from people who’ve been there before you.

Role models. A person to admire. You know, a hero.

I’ve only ever had one hero. My grandfather, Malcolm Sinclair.

Starting from nothing, he transformed a local failing commodities brokerage into one of the most powerful seats on the Chicago Board of Trade. Later, he parlayed that success when he shorted the British pound against the U.S. dollar, earning hundreds of millions.

A goddamn legend. A real life tycoon. Unbeatable, unbreakable.

Now though, he was dying.

The man battled cancer, heart disease and a handful of other illnesses, which should have finished him off years ago. He’d hung on, but in the end, age claims us all. And there was nothing all the goddamn money in his, or my, bank account could do about it.

Fucking bitter pill if there ever was one.

When I was growing up, everyone always told me I was a lot like him. Mostly it was meant as an insult, but I considered it the ultimate compliment. In his presence I felt complete. With his demise imminent, I wondered how, if ever, I’d replace the feeling again. The truth was that I wouldn’t. I’d accepted the fact not too long ago.

There were no end to the list of hangers-on, of course, none of whom did anything to further the family name. Without him and my grandmother, may she rest in peace, none of us would be where we are today. The rest of them were little more than a long line of freeloaders with their collective hands out. Even so, my grandfather insisted on providing for them, no matter how they behaved. They were his children and I suppose they provided some measure of comfort to him.

I never understood it.

On the other hand, it was his money and he could do what he wanted. It didn’t matter to me since I’d built my own fortune after a small stake from him. Of course, I’d paid back more than a thousand times over. Even so, their outright laziness irked me.

In any case, he’d called and asked me to come for a visit the next time I was back in town. Wouldn’t tell me why though. Unusual for him. I was looking forward to seeing him again nonetheless. Frankly, I wasn’t sure how many more chances there might be.

When he was younger he owned a number of homes from Chicago to New York, Paris, Milan and everywhere in-between. Over time, the travel and upkeep became more trouble than it was worth, so one-by-one he sold them off and opted for a comparatively simple existence. Nowadays, he lived a penthouse condo not more than a half hour or so from my home in Chicago.

So the first chance I had, I left the office early and headed over. After I arrived at his residence, his nurse led me back to his bedroom where, sadly, he spent most of his time now. I rapped against the large oak double doors as I came around the corner.

“Grandpa?”

He glanced in my direction and then motioned for me to walk towards his bed where he sat propped up amongst an ocean of pillows.

“Ah!” he yelled as he slapped his leg in anger. “I don’t know why I watch the sons of bitches play…”

“Who’s that, Grandpa?”

“Bears.
Fucking Bears!
” he groaned. Just then he lifted the remote and with the hand steadiness of a man you’d expect in his ninth decade, aimed it at the television and muttered curses until the screen flickered off. As it did, he tossed the remote aside.

“Come here boy!” he said, as he opened his arms.

I smiled, walked over and hugged him. Amazing that in spite of his failing health, his embrace was almost as strong as it had always been.

“How’ve you been son?” he asked.

“Can’t complain.” I balled up my hand and gave him a soft punch to his shoulder. Winking, I continued, “You look like shit though, old man.”

He chuckled. “Sit down and shut the hell up, Grey. You want a drink? I’ll have Millicent bring you something.”

I waved him off. “I’m good, Grandpa. Thanks.”

He nodded as I smiled and grabbed a seat on the edge of his bed. We spent a few minutes catching up, talking business, commiserating about football and the like. Afterward, we got down to the reason he’d asked me to come.

Leaning back into the pile of pillows, he said, “I’m sorry I had to be so damn mysterious with you on the phone.”

“Not a problem, Grandpa. I’m here now. Say what you need to say.”

“Grey,” he began, as he cleared his throat. “When I was a young man, I was a lot like you. Building the company, working… It was the only thing that mattered to me.”

I frowned. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is,” he replied. Before I could get another word in, he continued, “Did you know your grandmother almost married someone else?”

“She did?”

“Yes, she did.” He nodded. “It was my own damn fault. The signs were there from the beginning but I ignored them. Figured I’d have plenty of time to settle down with one woman.”

“Well obviously that didn’t happen. What’d you do?”

“Got down on my damn knees and begged her!” he exclaimed. “What else? Shit, after the way I’d behaved towards her, it was all I could do.”

I chuckled. “You never told me that before.”

“Wasn’t my proudest moment, son,” he answered with an exhale. “However, turned out to be my smartest. You know, sometimes it takes real intelligence to swallow your pride.”

I nodded and smiled. It was a damn interesting bit of family history, but I still had no clue why he was telling me this.

“What about Dad?” I asked. “Wasn’t he the same way? You know, hard for a woman to pin down?”

“Your father…” My grandfather uttered as he started to chuckle. Soon the chuckle turned into a vigorous cough. Sounded damn painful. The effort exhausted him and once he’d finished, he leaned on his right elbow as he tried to catch his breath. He’d almost amused himself to death right before my eyes.

“Here, Grandpa, let me help you.” I said as I stood and reached behind him. I propped up his pillows and eased him back into them. “So you were about to say something about Pop’s womanizing ways?”

My grandfather shook his head as the last remnants of his coughing fit drained from him. I stood upright once more and slipped my hands in my pockets.

“No, Grey. Not your father. He was never the type.” He looked up at me and winked. “I suppose it skipped a generation.”

My father died when I was boy of five years. I didn’t have many memories of him. By all accounts, he was a good man who loved my mother, which I’m sure was no easy chore. But, we’ll leave discussions about her for another time. As it relates to my father, well, I suppose I never had an opportunity to miss him. My grandfather was always there, or at least as much as he could be, raising me like his own son.

“I’m dying, Grey,” he said, as his eyes flickered closed. An exhausted breath escaped from him as he continued, “It’s a matter of time, now.”