Perhaps the gravity in my voice startled him. For a split second, he forgot to slur his speech or feign weakness.
His frown deepened, voice sharp and clear. "Don't talk nonsense. We'll both live long lives. When I recover, I'll rebuild the James Corporation. You'll be the princess of the James family again."
But I don't want to be a princess anymore.
I don't want the title, and I don't want you, Jonathan.
I'm giving it all to Valerie.
"We need to run pre-admission tests," Dr. Armstrong interrupted. "It'll take some time, Miss James. Why don't you wait outside?"
In the past, I would have believed him. I would have left Jonathan in their care and sprinted to my part-time jobs, racing against the clock to earn pennies for his "treatment."
Now, I knew better. It was just a pretext to get rid of me.
I stood at the corner of the deserted corridor, hidden in shadow. I watched my brother—the man who supposedly couldn't walk without support—change his clothes with fluid ease. He strode toward the elevator, impatience evident in his gait.
Downstairs, a sleek luxury car waited. He slid into the backseat and sped away.