Conor touched a button on the steering wheel to end the call with Charisse and pressed down on the accelerator of his Bugatti Chiron. He needed to get to Charisse. He’d wanted to surprise her on Tuesday, but screw that. She needed comfort now.
The car felt like a plane flying through traffic, but Conor was only focused on getting to his destination and not the enjoyment.
After five minutes, he called Raul.
“How does she look?”
Raul answered with distraction in his voice. “She was pale before she went in to meet Gianna.”
“I’m just pulling up to get her…oh no.”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“She’s asleep on a bench in front of the hospital.”
“Asleep? Get me Dr. Beaumont’s number now.”
Raul’s voice sounded sharp. “Where are you, sir?”
“And who’s driving?”
“Then I’m not getting you the number. She wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.”
“She should. I’m paying the bill.”
“You know better. If Charisse needs another doctor I’ll call one here. Now do you want to keep arguing and get in a wreck, or should I go get Charisse?”
“Go get Charisse,” he growled and hung up. He hated being useless. He should’ve left the mansion sooner, but the teleconference with his lawyers had dragged on. Darnell hadn’t been happy with Conor staying behind, but that’s why he got the big bucks.
Conor thought strategically it might turn out better. His lawyers could suss out the situation, bring the fear and then he could show up to make the heads roll.
He turned the music up and pressed down on the accelerator again. Raul would take care of Charisse. She was fine. But he kept driving faster like he didn’t believe it.