CHAPTER 44: A WOLF AT THE DOOR

(Rowan’s POV—VIP Floor 7, City Hospital)

The elevator doors slid open with a sterile chime.

Floor 7.

VIP Wing.

The lights here were softer, warmer, and expensive—the kind of hallway only the rich or powerful ever walked through. But beneath the plush silence and polished walls... I could smell it.

Fear.

Not mine.

Theirs.

Security was tighter than reported—two extra guards positioned along the corridor, hands hovering near their holsters. Kael Valtore either feared retribution...

Or more likely?

He feared the truth.

I stepped out of the elevator with a camera disguised as a shirt button, a mop bucket, shoulders slouched, and posture crouched—the perfect image of an exhausted janitor.

One of the guards immediately narrowed his eyes.

"Hey," he called out. "You’re not on tonight’s shift list."

I didn’t look at him directly—only flashed the gold-stamped access card Theo provided, letting irritation bleed into my tone.

"Then update your list," I muttered, as if exhausted from a double shift. "The doctor said Suite 701 needed a clean before midnight. VIP orders."

He blinked.

Doctors annoyed janitors constantly. Janitors annoyed guards. The cycle was universal.

He grumbled, waving me through. "Fine. Just be quick."

I kept walking. Smooth, steady. Not too fast. Not too slow. Suite 701 came into view at the end of the hallway.

Two guards posted outside.

Kael’s personal security. This would be trickier. They watched me approach—too carefully.

One stepped forward, hand out.

"ID."

I held out the card without speaking. He scanned it. Scanned me. Scanned the mop bucket and the cleaning trolley.

"Cleaning time?" he asked with clear suspicion. "Why now?"

I gave a tired sigh, glancing down the hall like I had forty more rooms to deal with.

"You want to take over?" I muttered. "Be my guest. I’ll go home early."

He stiffened—offended. Perfect. The other guard, older and less alert, waved him off. "Let the guy work, for god’s sake. You know how angry Valtore gets if his room’s dusty."

That was true. According to the information, Kael hated any imperfection he didn’t cause himself.

The younger guard grudgingly moved aside. "You’ve got five minutes."

Five was enough.

I nodded once and stepped past the guards, pushing open the door to Suite 701.

Inside—Silence.

Dark curtains. Dim lights. The steady hum of medical machines humming for decoration, not for function. And Kael Valtore—not on the hospital bed.

Not bleeding.Not weak.

But lounging on the velvet couch in a hospital gown, legs crossed, watching the news with a bored expression.

The anchor’s voice echoed:

"...Evelina Hartgrave is currently being interrogated. The Hartgrave family’s personal lawyer has arrived at the station—"

As I walked in, Kael finally glanced up. Suspicion flickered in his eyes.

"Cleaning duty?" he scoffed. "I wasn’t informed about any cleaning duty now."

I didn’t answer him immediately.

I simply looked at him.

Unafraid.Unmoved.

Unimpressed.

Madam was right... He really was playing a dirty game. Sitting here healthy, calm, and delighted at Miss Evelina’s downfall.

"The hospital announced a sudden audit," I said after a beat, voice muffled under the mask. "We were told to clean every VIP suite before midnight."

"Audit?" He frowned, reaching for his phone. "Why wasn’t I informed?"

"It was sudden, sir. You should receive a message anytime now."

Right on cue—DING!

Kael blinked at the screen, and his brows relaxed.

"Well... there it is." He waved a dismissive hand. "Fine. Do it fast."

I bowed my head slightly. "Thank you, sir."

Then I began the act.

Wiping counters. Dusting corners. Adjusting his unused IV stand. All of it was slow enough for my button camera to record every movement he made—every healthy, unhindered breath.

Kael kept glancing at me. Suspicion deepening. Then he looked back at the TV, and a satisfied smirk stretched across his lips as the anchor continued:

"Hartgrave Corporation’s stocks continue to plummet. The arrest has caused widespread backlash—"

His eyes gleamed with triumph. And my camera caught all of it.

Perfectly.

Everything was going according to plan. Until—a second voice entered the room.

Confident.Irritated.

"Huh? Why is a cleaner here at this time?"

I froze.

Didn’t turn.

Didn’t react.

Kael’s voice cut in quickly, too quickly: "There’s an audit in the hospital. He came to clean before the inspection. I just got the message."

A pause.

A dangerous one.

"Sir..." the assistant said slowly, "I was just speaking to the director before arriving here. He didn’t mention the audit tonight. And I haven’t received any alert either."

Silence.

Thick.Sharp.Fatal.

Both of them turned to me. Kael stood up instantly, shock tightening his face.

"Hey..." he hissed. "Who the hell are you?"

My jaw clenched.

Damn it.

I could fight my way out—but Kael’s men were on every floor. And I still needed to get to Theo Vinter for the next step.

Kael’s voice dropped, low and dangerous.

"Remove your mask." A step forward. "Show yourself immediately."

I looked around.

No escape inside the room. Only one way out.

I exhaled, slow and steady.

Then turned toward him. Kael stalked closer and—YANK!

He ripped the mask off my face.

His eyes widened in shock. "You—you’re the bodyguard of—"

PUNCH!!!!

My fist cracked across his jaw before he finished the sentence. Kael’s head snapped sideways as he crashed onto the couch.

"SIR KAEL!!!" his assistant screamed.

Kael groaned, clutching his face.

"CATCH THAT BASTARD!!!" he roared. "IF HE ESCAPES, WE’RE EXPOSED!!! MOVE!!!"

Not waiting another second—I sprinted to the nearest window.

Shoved it open.

And jumped.

Glass shattered behind me as I plummeted—then caught the ledge with one hand. My body jerked, hanging several stories above the ground, wind slamming against me.

Above, I heard Kael’s men scrambling.

"HE’S ON THE LEDGE!! GET HIM!!""SHOOT IF YOU HAVE TO!!""HURRY!!!"

Wind tore at my clothes. My left hand gripped the cold concrete ledge. Seven floors up. No safety net. No mercy from gravity.

Above me—Chaos.

"HE’S THERE—ON THE LEDGE!!""SHOOT HIM!!!"

If I was going to fall, they’d see the smear before they heard me land. A gun cocked. I didn’t look up. Instead, I swung my right hand under the ledge and jammed my fingers into a narrow groove in the concrete.

My body stabilized.

One second gained.

Not enough.

BANG!

A bullet sliced the air beside my ear — hot, angry, close enough that the sound punched my eardrum.

The concrete beside my hand cracked. Dust rained down my face.

No time.

I exhaled once — slow. Controlled.

My training kicked in.

Assess. Decide. Move.

I hooked my knee against the ledge’s underside and launched myself sideways, fingers reaching— Caught the metal pipe running along the building’s outer wall.

Grip secure.

Feet dangling.

I started climbing, fast and precise, maneuvering like I’d memorized every corner of the building’s architecture.

Because I had. Before coming, I scanned the blueprints of the hospital in the case Theo gave me. If Kael’s people were predictable, the building layout wasn’t.

But a bodyguard learns the terrain before stepping into the battlefield.

BANG!

Another gunshot.

This one hit the pipe beneath my foot, sending vibrations up the metal. I swung to the opposite side of the building—out of their line of sight—letting my body fall just enough to gain momentum.

Then I grabbed onto a window frame below.

Glass rattled.

I held on.

My fingers burned.

Above, I heard boots stomping as Kael screamed: "IDIOTS!! I SAID CATCH HIM, NOT LET HIM ESCAPE!!"

They spilled out of the suite, rushing down the hall to cut me off.

I moved again.

Downward. Swift. Silent. Efficient.

I braced my feet against the narrow ledge and pushed myself downward, gripping the drainpipe to control speed. Sparks of pain shot up my wrists, but I landed on the fifth-floor ledge in one smooth transition.

Another gunshot.

CRACK!

The window beside me shattered. Shards sliced past my cheek.

Close.

Too close.

I ducked, rolled across the ledge, then launched myself toward another pipe. My hand caught it perfectly.

Training makes perfection.

I climbed down a few more meters until I reached a maintenance balcony. Landing silent as a cat, I slipped inside the access door.

Guns thundered above, guards shouting into their earpieces.

"He’s heading down the building!""Check the lower floors!""Block every exit!"

I sprinted through the maintenance corridor, breathing steady.

Focus sharp.

Every turn calculated. Every footstep quiet.

This wasn’t an escape.

This was a transition.

I already had what I needed. The footage.

Everything Madam wanted recorded—I had it.

Now I had to get it to Theo. I reached the stairwell. Boots thundered below.

More above. They were trying to trap me.

I jumped over the railing, dropped down one floor and landed in a crouch.

Another leap.

Another landing.

By the time Kael’s men reached the third-floor landing, I slipped behind them like smoke.

One reached for a radio.

My hand shot out.

CRACK.

He collapsed before he even registered the hit.

I didn’t stop.

I didn’t hesitate.

I became invisible again. And when I finally pushed through the emergency door leading outside, cool air hit my face.

My lungs expanded.

My eyes scanned the lot.

I saw him.

Theo Vinter.

Waiting in the shadows, a cigarette glowing between his fingers. The moment they saw me emerge from behind the emergency exit—Engines growled to life.

Doors opened.

A seamless formation. The kind only the Vinter family executed perfectly. Theo flicked his cigarette away with a lazy snap and smirked as I approached.

"I see..." he drawled, voice low and amused, "she really picked herself one hell of a bodyguard."

I didn’t respond to the compliment. I didn’t have time.

I slid into the back seat the moment one of his men opened the door for me. Theo stepped in after me, shutting the door as the car peeled out of the lot.

My breath hitched — adrenaline still pushing through me — but my voice remained steady.

"We need to move. Now."

Theo smirked deeper, the kind of smirk only a mafia heir could pull off — dangerous and entertained.

"You brought it?" he asked.

I held up the tiny button camera.

"Yes," I said sharply.

Then he leaned forward and handed the camera to the man in the front seat — a sharp-eyed tech operative already typing furiously on a high-end laptop.

"Strip the footage," Theo ordered. "Clean it. Enhance every detail. Then patch it through to every major media house."

"Yes, sir," the man replied without looking up. Fingers flew across the keys. "This will hit every news feed in less than five minutes."

Theo settled back into the leather seat, arms folding leisurely.

"Rowan," he said, voice dropping into something darker, silkier, "you’ve just handed the world a match."

I nodded, staring out the window as the city blurred past.

"And Kael Valtore," Theo finished, smirk widening, "is sitting on a pile of gasoline."

The laptop beeped.

The upload bar blinked. The footage of Kael — standing, walking, smirking, drinking — began streaming to every major network.

Every social platform.

Every news agency.

Every feed.

The world was about to see the truth and Kael’s downfall had officially begun.