Chapter 8
The words echoed in the cavernous dining room, ringing off the gold decorations and the crystal glasses. I fired the board at 9:00 AM this morning.
Ethan took a step back, hitting the wall behind the carving station. His navy blue suit suddenly looked two sizes too big. The arrogance that had defined him for the past decade was gone, replaced by the hollow, wide-eyed look of a man watching his life burn to the ground in real time.
"You... you can't," Ethan stammered, shaking his head. "Dr. Harrison... the chief of staff... they have contracts. You can't just clear them out on a Thursday."
"I own the controlling equity, Ethan. I can do whatever I want," Claire said calmly. She reached out and traced the rim of her water glass with a single finger. "The new interim board has already been seated. Their first order of business on Monday morning is to review the unredacted files regarding Patient 402, along with six other cases where your 'coding errors' suspiciously doubled the billing on Medicare patients."
Vanessa let out a choked sob. She stood up, her champagne-colored dress catching the edge of the table, nearly knocking over a candelabra.
"Claire, please!" Vanessa begged, the haughty older sister completely vanishing. She rounded the table, stumbling slightly in her heels, and stopped a few feet from Claire. "Please. If you do this, he’ll lose his license. He’ll go to jail for fraud! We’ll lose the house, the cars... everything!"
Claire looked at her sister. For a fleeting moment, a flicker of genuine sorrow crossed Claire’s fiercely controlled features, but she ruthlessly suppressed it.
"You will lose the things you bought with stolen money and ruined lives, Vanessa," Claire said quietly. "I am sorry that it will hurt you. But I am not going to let a butcher operate in my hospital just because he’s married to my sister."
"He’s family!" Margaret shrieked from the head of the table. She was gripping her hair, the red evening dress suddenly looking garish and absurd in the face of absolute ruin. "You vindictive, hateful girl! You planned this! You came here today just to destroy us!"
"I came here today," Claire replied, her voice ringing out, sharp and metallic, "to eat dry turkey and listen to you tell me I’m a failure, just like I do every year. You brought this up, Margaret. You just couldn't resist the punchline."
Richard, who had been sitting in stunned silence, finally stood. He looked defeated, older than his sixty years. The silver hair and dark suit offered no protection against the reality of his own collapsing empire.
"What do you want, Claire?" Richard asked, his voice gravelly. "You have the hospital. You have my firm. You have all the leverage. What is the price to make this go away?"
"There is no price, Richard," Claire said, looking at her father with cold detachment. "This isn't a negotiation. This is an eviction."
She turned her gaze back to Ethan, who was leaning heavily against the wall, staring blankly at the floor.
"You have a choice, Ethan," Claire said, her voice cutting through Vanessa’s quiet sobbing.
Ethan slowly raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot. "What choice?"
"Monday morning, the new board convenes," Claire stated, her tone entirely businesslike. "If you are still employed by St. Jude’s, they will refer your files to the state medical board and the federal prosecutor for Medicare fraud. You will face a very public, very humiliating trial."
Vanessa let out a wail, covering her face with her hands.
"Or?" Ethan whispered, his voice trembling.
"Or," Claire said, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands in her lap, "you submit your resignation tonight. Effective immediately. You surrender your medical license voluntarily due to 'personal health reasons.' You never step foot in an operating room again."
May you like
The room was dead silent.
"If you do that," Claire finished softly, "I will seal the files. I will handle the malpractice payouts privately. You keep your freedom, but you lose the knife. Forever."
