Part 3No Mercy on My Operating Table

Predictably, three days later, I returned to my office after a consultation to find Katherine and her husband waiting for me.

Charles Mercer stepped forward first, his demeanor far more polished than his wife's.

"Dr. West," he began, offering a polite nod. "Please accept my apologies for my wife’s outburst the other day. She was distressed. I wanted to personally bring her here to apologize, and to see if we could find some common ground regarding our daughter's surgery."

In the next instant, Katherine burst into tears.

"Dr. West... I am so sorry," she sobbed, clutching a lace handkerchief. "I was out of my mind with worry. My daughter is only eight years old. She is everything to us. Please, don't let a mother’s foolish mistake cost an innocent child her life. I beg of you, save her..."

She wept beautifully, her shoulders trembling. To anyone else, she would have looked like a desperate, loving mother.

But I saw the truth. I saw the cold, calculated venom in her eyes when she lowered her handkerchief to wipe her face.

I watched her performance with an icy calm.

"Mrs. Mercer, the hospital has strict protocols. Every patient must wait their turn."

Katherine’s crying stopped instantly. "But my daughter doesn't have time! She is in critical condition!"

I nodded smoothly. "I understand. Every single patient under my care is in critical condition. If you want me to perform the surgery, please submit the standard paperwork, and my office will schedule you for the next available slot."

A shadow crossed Katherine’s face. She raised her voice, letting it carry out into the hallway.

"Dr. West, are you really going to just stand there and watch a child die? Where is your medical ethics?!"

I noticed a few people lingering outside my open door, whispering. Someone was holding up a phone, recording.

A setup. They wanted to paint me as the villain.

I didn't flinch. I stepped closer to the doorway, ensuring my voice was loud and clear for the camera.

"Your daughter is precious, Mrs. Mercer. But so is every other child in this hospital. You are asking me to violate protocol and push your daughter to the front of the line. What about the child whose spot she takes? Do they just die so yours can live?"

I leaned in, staring directly into her eyes. "Or do you believe that because your daughter is a Mercer, her life is inherently more valuable than a normal family's child? Do you believe ordinary children should step aside and die for yours?"

The murmuring in the hallway shifted. The relatives of other patients waiting in the corridor began to glare at Katherine.

This was the cardiothoracic unit. Almost everyone standing out there had a loved one clinging to life. The idea of a billionaire family using their wealth to cut the line didn't sit well with them.

The atmosphere grew incredibly tense.

Charles Mercer’s polite smile vanished. He understood the public relations nightmare unfolding before him. If Katherine continued to push, she would essentially be admitting that the ultra-rich viewed the public as expendable.

Charles quickly signaled his security detail. "Clear the hallway. No recordings."

The bodyguards immediately stepped out, shutting the door and pushing the onlookers back.

Once the room was quiet, Charles took a deep breath, smoothing his tie and reassuming his gentlemanly facade.

"Dr. West, you misunderstand. We have no intention of disrespecting other patients. If those are the hospital's rules, we will respect them. We will find another way. Apologies for the intrusion."

He grabbed Katherine’s arm, pulling her toward the exit.

Katherine looked as though she were about to explode. She whipped her head around, glaring at me with raw hatred.

"You'll regret this, West," she spat.