After My Divorce, His Enemy Claimed Me.

Power play

(Vaughn)

I woke up in my hotel room to my phone ringing.

It was five in the morning. I didn't even need to look at the screen to know who it was.

I answered. "What?"

"Dr. Reid, this is scheduling. We have an emergency case coming in. Compound fracture, multiple injuries. You're needed in the OR in thirty minutes."

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. "I wasn't on call last night."

"You are now. Dr. Ashford made some changes to the schedule."

Of course he did.

"Fine. I'll be there."

I hung up and threw my phone across the bed.

Kieran. That bastard was already starting.

I got dressed and drove to the hospital, my mind racing. This was just the beginning. He was going to make my life hell, and there was nothing I could do about it.

When I got to the hospital, I went straight to the OR. The patient was already prepped, a twenty year old kid who'd been in a motorcycle accident. Compound fracture in his femur, broken ribs, internal bleeding.

It should have been a straightforward case. But nothing was straightforward when you'd been woken up at five in the morning after three hours of sleep.

I scrubbed in and got to work.

The surgery took four hours. By the time I finished, I was exhausted. I hadn't eaten, hadn't had coffee, and my hands were shaking from the adrenaline crash.

I went to the locker room to change, and that's when I saw the new schedule posted on the board.

Night shifts. Three nights in a row. Starting tonight.

I ripped the schedule off the board and stormed out of the locker room.

Kieran's office was on the top floor. I didn't bother knocking. I just walked in.

He was sitting at his desk, reviewing paperwork. He looked up when I entered, completely calm.

"Dr. Reid. What can I do for you?"

"What the hell is this?" I threw the schedule on his desk.

He glanced at it. "The new schedule."

"I'm on night shifts for the next three nights. I wasn't on nights last month."

"Things change. We're short staffed, and I need someone with your experience on the night team."

"Bullshit. You're doing this because of Sloane."

Kieran leaned back in his chair, his expression never changing. "I'm doing this because it's my job to manage the surgical department. If you have a problem with the schedule, you can file a complaint with HR."

"You know I can't do that."

"Then I suggest you get some rest before your shift tonight."

I wanted to punch him. I wanted to reach across that desk and wipe that smug look off his face.

But I couldn't. Because he was the Chief of Surgery. And I was just an orthopedic surgeon who'd screwed up his marriage and given Kieran the perfect excuse to destroy me.

I turned and walked out, slamming the door behind me.

The rest of the day was a blur. I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. My mind was racing with everything that was happening. Sloane, the divorce, Kieran, the schedule.

By the time my night shift started at seven PM, I was already exhausted.

And it only got worse.

The night shift was chaos. Back to back trauma cases, difficult patients, residents who didn't know what they were doing. I barely had time to breathe, let alone eat or sit down.

By three in the morning, I was ready to collapse.

But I couldn't. Because Kieran had made sure I was on the worst cases, the ones no one else wanted to deal with.

The second night was the same. And the third.

By the time my third night shift ended, I was running on fumes. I hadn't slept more than a few hours in three days. My hands were shaking, my vision was blurry, and I was making mistakes.

Small mistakes. Nothing that would hurt a patient. But mistakes nonetheless.

And I knew Kieran was watching. Waiting for me to screw up big enough that he could use it against me.

On the fourth day, I finally got a break. No night shift. No early morning emergency calls.

I slept until noon, then dragged myself to the hospital for my afternoon shift.

That's when I saw her.

Sloane. Walking down the hallway with a coffee in her hand, looking fresh and well rested.

She saw me and her expression hardened.

"Vaughn."

"Sloane. We need to talk."

"No, we don't."

She tried to walk past me, but I stepped in front of her.

"Yes, we do. This is getting out of hand. Kieran is destroying my career because of you."

"Because of me? You're the one who cheated. You're the one who refused to sign the divorce papers. This is your fault, not mine."

"He's putting me on the worst shifts, the worst cases. He's trying to force me out."

"Good. Maybe you'll finally understand what it feels like to lose something you care about."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.

"I care about you," I said.

"No, you don't. You care about yourself. You always have."

She walked past me, and I let her go.

Because she was right.

I went to my office and slammed the door. I needed to think. I needed to figure out how to get out of this mess.

That's when my phone vibrated. A text from my private investigator.

*Got something on Ashford. Call me.*

Finally.

I called him immediately.

"What did you find?"

"It's not much, but it's interesting. Kieran Ashford wasn't always in Seattle. Before he came here, he was at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore."

"So? That's a good hospital."

"Yeah, but he left suddenly. Mid contract. No explanation given publicly."

"What happened?"

"That's the thing. I can't find out. Everything's sealed tight. But I talked to a few people who worked with him there. Off the record, of course."

"And?"

"They said there was an incident. Something involving a patient death and a cover up. Nothing was ever proven, no charges filed, but Ashford left right after the investigation started."

My heart started racing. "A patient death? And he covered it up?"

"That's what they're saying. But like I said, nothing was proven. The hospital settled with the family quietly, and the whole thing disappeared."

"Can you get me proof?"

"I'm trying. But medical malpractice cases that get settled are usually sealed. I'd need to find someone willing to talk on the record, and that's not easy."

"Keep digging. I don't care what it costs."

"There's more. After he left Johns Hopkins, he spent six months in Europe. No one knows what he was doing there. No medical work, no conferences. Just gone."

"That's suspicious."

"Very. I'm looking into it, but international records are harder to access."

"What else?"

"He's rich. Like, really rich. But not from his salary. He inherited a fortune from his father, who died ten years ago. But here's the weird part. His father's death was ruled suspicious. Possible foul play, but the investigation went nowhere."

I sat up straighter. "His father was murdered?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it was an accident. The case was closed, but there were questions. And Kieran inherited everything. We're talking millions."

This was it. This was what I needed.

Kieran Ashford wasn't the perfect, honorable man everyone thought he was. He had secrets. Dark ones.

"Keep digging. I want everything you can find on that patient death, his time in Europe, and his father's death."

"Will do. But Vaughn, be careful. If even half of what I'm hearing is true, Kieran Ashford is not someone you want to mess with."

"I'm already messing with him. Just find me proof."

I hung up and leaned back in my chair, a smile spreading across my face.

Sloane thought Kieran was her hero? Her savior?

Wait until she found out what he really was.

A man with a dead patient in his past. A man who disappeared to Europe right after. A man whose father died under suspicious circumstances and left him a fortune.

Kieran Ashford was hiding something. And I was going to find out what.

My phone rang again. My lawyer.

"Vaughn, we have a problem."

"What now?"

"Sloane's lawyer filed a motion to expedite the divorce. They're claiming you're harassing her and refusing to cooperate."

"That's not true."

"Doesn't matter. The judge granted the motion. You have two weeks to respond, or the divorce goes through by default."

"Two weeks?"

"Yes. And if you don't sign, they're going to drag every dirty detail of your affairs into court. Multiple affairs, Vaughn. Not just the one Sloane caught you in."

My stomach turned. "How do they know about the others?"

"I don't know. But they have evidence. Photos, text messages, testimony from other nurses."

Kieran. It had to be Kieran. He'd hired someone to dig into my past, just like I was digging into his.

"What do I do?"

"You sign the papers. Cut your losses and move on."

"I'm not signing."

"Vaughn, listen to me. If you fight this, you're going to lose. And you're going to lose badly. They'll destroy your reputation, your career, everything. Is that really worth it?"

I didn't answer.

"Think about it. You have two weeks."

He hung up.

I sat there, staring at my phone.

Two weeks. Two weeks to decide if I was going to let Sloane go or fight for her.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

I wasn't fighting for her. I was fighting for my pride. For my ego. For the idea that I couldn't lose to Kieran Ashford.

Because if I signed those papers, if I let Sloane go, Kieran won. And I couldn't let that happen.

Especially now that I knew what he was hiding.

I opened my laptop and started typing an email to Sloane.

*You think Kieran Ashford is a good man? Ask him about Johns Hopkins. Ask him about the patient who died. Ask him why he really left Baltimore.*

I hit send before I could second guess myself.

Then I opened my desk drawer and pulled out the bottle of whiskey. I poured myself a glass and drank it in one gulp.

This wasn't over.

Kieran might be winning now. But the game wasn't finished yet.

And I always played to win.

Even if it meant destroying everyone in my way.

Including the man Sloane thought was her hero.