If there’s one thing I learned over the years of doing business with men like Magnus Parker, it's that they’re filled with fear. Those positions they hold, whether in their companies, or government, those are all precarious. And they take those positions and play with them as if they’re untouchable.

That’s where the problem lies.

Nobody is untouchable.

Many men have come to me when they’ve fucked up, when they got caught, and even when they knew their life was over. I can only help those willing to help themselves. And I have a feeling Magnus is not one of those men.

Stalking into the hospital, I unbutton my gray suit jacket as I reach the receptionist counter. “Madison Parker?” I question easily.

The woman trails her gaze over me like so many before. Women are easy to consume. Offer them a smirk, show them confidence, and they’re all over you like white on rice.

“Third floor to the left in ICU, sir.” She smiles.

I nod. “Thank you.” And I'm off toward the elevators. Callan should be here. She’s his girl, but when Magnus is on the warpath to find out what happened to his daughter, I think there’s a good chance Callan would be taken in for questioning as soon as he stepped foot inside the hospital.

I sent my team to the lake house as soon as Callan told me he’d found Madison hurt. I have a feeling there might be much more to her injuries than meets the eye. While waiting for the results on their sweep, I step out of the elevator and find Mr. Parker pacing the hallway.

“Magnus,” I greet, watching his face contort when he sees me.

“Have you heard anything? Please tell me they’ve found the asshole,” he hisses, his voice low and menacing, but he doesn’t scare me for shit.

“I have my men working on it, but the cops are already at your lake house. Why do you think Madison would do this?”

He shakes his head, and for the first time in a long while, I see the man lose his cold exterior. “She’s always had problems. I mean . . .” He trails off, settling in the chair, but he looks like he’s about to fall to his knees. “I just didn’t think she was so unhappy.”

“Have you thought about other options? Perhaps this wasn’t her doing?”

His head snaps up at my assumption. “What?”

“You’re a wealthy man. You’ve just been outed using a girl who is well-known to be your daughter’s best friend. Perhaps someone wanted to get back at you,” I inform him easily, as if he should’ve thought about this earlier. He’s her goddamn father, and all he wants to see is the worst in his daughter.

“Are you trying to tell me someone tried to kill my daughter?” The vein in his forehead looks like it’s about to explode.

Keeping my expression schooled, I nod once. “It’s a suggestion. Once we’ve got the report from my men, I’ll let you know what we’ve found. Is there anyone you can think of that would want to hurt your daughter?”

He’s silent for a moment before he responds. “No, my daughter was the pillar of society. Her friends loved her. Hudson was going to marry her,” he insists.

“Marrying someone doesn’t always constitute as love,” I tell him.

“What are you trying to say? That Hudson had something to do with this? If I’d had to warrant a guess, I would point my finger in the direction of O’Leary,” he bites out.

My phone vibrates, chimes, then begins to ring from my pocket. When I pull it out, I note it’s one of the men I have working undercover for me.

“Yes,” I answer, turning away from Magnus.

“Prints on the door handle and the blade were picked up. Matches that Brockovich boy. Checked out the surveillance. Your boy Hudson was at the house about ten minutes before O'Leary arrived.”

The ice that runs through my veins solidifies as I nod in response, and offer him a quick, “Thank you.”

I hang up before he can say anything more. Tapping out a message to Callan, I make my way toward the exit. “I’ll be back. Stay with your daughter,” I tell my client. But as I’ve only taken two steps toward the exit when the loud shrill beeping of the machines from Madison’s room alert the doctor and three nurses at the station right outside.

The energy in the space changes, and when I meet the eyes of my client, I hear the monotonous beep of the machine. That line that should be beeping is now a long droning sound.

I’ve heard that sound far too often in my line of work. Being an insurance lawyer, most of my clients call me into the hospital when they know someone is about to take their final breath. And this is no different, however, the woman who’s flatlining is Callan’s girl and I know, if she were mine, I’d want to be here.

“Get me the defibrillator, stat!”

The doctor races toward the room, pushing by Magnus. I can’t stay, but I want to.

“We’re losing her!”

“What’s going on?”

“She’s not responding.”

My phone rings wildly in my hand, and I glance down at Callan’s name flashing at me. He’s going to do something stupid. I turn and leave Madison in the hands of the doctors and pray to God they can save her.