15

The metallic tang of medical antiseptic hung heavily in the air as Sara and the head nurse rushed to wheel Martin Roy down the corridor.

"Nurse, go to Room 504 right now," Sara commanded, her voice dropping into a tight, urgent undertone.

The nurse hesitated, her eyes wide with uncertainty. 

"But—"

Sara cut her off with a sharp, silent glare that left absolutely no room for debate.

 “Do as I say,” she mouthed.

Under the weight of her fierce determination, the nurse nodded quickly. 

They shifted their direction, bypassing the main floor entirely, and finally reached the quiet sanctuary of Room 504. 

As the heavy door clicked shut behind them, a low voice broke the silence from the shadows.

"Sara? Is everything okay?" Raghu stepped forward, his face etched with deep parental worry.

 He had not left the hospital through the back exit after all; he had been waiting exactly where his daughter had instructed him to.

"Sara," Raghu continued, holding out a small package,

 "did you bring the cover that the nurse gave to you?"

Sara nodded rapidly. 

"Yes, Dad."

Raghu reached into his bag, pulling out a specialized medical supply kit. 

"Take this liquefied bandage and gloves."

Without wasting a single second, Sara took the materials. 

Her hands were remarkably steady as she applied the advanced liquefied bandage over the injection site on Martin's arm, carefully drying the area before pulling the sterile medical gloves over her hands.

 Every movement she made was precise, deliberate, and thoroughly calculated to protect the patient from any contamination or trace evidence.

On the bed, Martin Roy remained completely still, his eyes tightly shut as he continued his flawless act of being completely unconscious.

 But beneath his calm exterior, his sharp corporate mind was racing at a terrifying speed.

I thought Raghu went home, Martin thought to himself, a sudden surge of adrenaline spiking through his chest. So, this was a smart move orchestrated entirely by Sara. 

She didn't just bring security; she created a secondary hidden perimeter right inside this room.

Sara finished securing the bandage and stepped back, looking down at the sleeping billionaire with a soft, protective gaze.

 She turned back toward her father, her voice softening.

"Dad, everything is set now," Sara whispered gently, patting his shoulder. 

"You can rest here. Don't wake him or try to guide him. I am leaving for our home now. Tomorrow morning, I will come back to pick you up."

With one final, lingering glance at the vulnerable old man in the bed, Sara turned on her heel and slipped out of Room 504, leaving the hospital to head back to her family home.

For a long time after her departure, the room remained dead silent, save for the steady hum of the heart monitor. 

Martin lay perfectly motionless, maintaining his long, exhausting act of deep sleep. 

But eventually, the curiosity became too much to bear. 

The grandmaster wanted to see the next piece on his board.

Martin slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the fluorescent lights. 

He sat up deliberately, fully acting like a confused, fragile old man who didn't know anything about where he was or how he had gotten there.

"Excuse me..." Martin croaked, his voice perfectly mimicking a disoriented patient.

 "Who are you?"

Raghu immediately stood up from his chair, rushing to the side of the bed with a warm, reassuring smile.

"Actually, sir, you have to take rest now," Raghu explained gently, adjusting the pillows behind Martin's back. 

"You just underwent a major emergency treatment for a heart stent. My daughter actually saved your life out on the street and brought you here."

Martin forced his eyes to widen in deep, theatrical shock.

 "Oh, really? What is her name? What a nice, incredibly kind girl. Where is she now?"

"Her name is Sara," Raghu smiled proudly, his eyes shining with genuine affection. 

"She just went home to rest. I will stay here with you tonight until your actual relatives come to look after you tomorrow."

Martin lay back against the pillows, offering a small, weak nod of gratitude. 

But deep inside the dark, cynical corners of his mind, a cold, mocking voice echoed with absolute corporate arrogance.

Poor Sara, Martin thought, an evil, hidden smile tugging at the very edge of his consciousness. 

You think a simple room change can save me? You think this liquefied bandage and a pair of gloves can hold back those fake hired actors who are acting out my script? And you think your ordinary dad is actually able to fight back against a real threat?

His internal amusement turned razor-sharp.

 You think these simple, low-level moves can actually qualify you to enter the Roy family?

Keeping his movements hidden beneath the heavy hospital blanket, Martin grabbed his smartphone. 

He pulled up his private messaging application and swiftly typed a direct text message to his assistant, John.

Martin: *John where are you I can't talk now just reply by messages only*.

Outside in the corridor, John's phone vibrated violently. He glanced at the screen, adjusted his hidden earpiece, and typed back instantly.

John: *Sir, I am standing right outside your room.*

Martin’s thumbs flew across the screen, his final command cutting through the digital ether like freezing steel.

Martin: come in to the room , just show your face.

John shifted his weight, his heart hammering against his ribs as he reached for the brass handle of Room 504. 

The final stage of the grandmaster's game was about to begin, and the lines between the fake trap and reality were starting to blur. 

But Martin was already in safe hands.