The Escalade's massive tires spun on the wet asphalt, gripping the road as the engine roared.
Eleanora stood perfectly still in the rain. The water ran down her black trench coat.
Just as the rear bumper of the SUV passed her, Eleanora inhaled sharply and projected her voice, cutting through the engine noise and the storm.
"Right temporal lobe piercing pain!" Eleanora shouted. "Frequency of eighty beats per minute. Accompanied by intermittent optic nerve blackouts!"
Inside the heavily insulated cabin, the words penetrated the glass.
Fidel's entire body went rigid. His hands, which were pressed against his temples, froze.
"Severe insomnia exceeding one hundred and twenty hours," Eleanora's voice rang out again, cold and clinical. "Standard sedatives have developed full resistance. Your nerve fibers are actively snapping."
Fidel's eyes snapped open. His pupils dilated in pure shock.
Those symptoms were highly classified. His own private medical team didn't even have the exact frequency of the pain pulses.
"You have three months left," Eleanora delivered the final blow. "Then you go into brain death. Keep driving. Enjoy your funeral."
She turned her back on the convoy and started walking toward the Aston Martin.
Inside the SUV, Fidel's chest he heave. The pain in his head was screaming, but the shock of her words paralyzed him.
"Stop the car," Fidel growled.
The driver slammed on the brakes. The Escalade lurched to a halt ten yards away from Eleanora.
Julian, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around, his face pale. "Sir? It could be a trap."
Fidel ignored him. He pressed the intercom button. "Bring her to me."
Two bodyguards immediately ran forward, stepping in front of Eleanora just as she reached for the Aston Martin's door handle.
Eleanora stopped. She looked over her shoulder at the stopped Escalade. The corner of her mouth twitched upward in a victorious smirk.
She let go of the door handle and walked slowly back to the SUV.
The rear window rolled all the way down.
Fidel stared at her, his eyes stripping her down, searching for a lie. "How do you know that?"
Eleanora stopped right outside the window. She looked down at him, her expression completely bored. "I'm a doctor. My eyes told me."
Fidel let out a harsh, painful breath. "If you investigated me to get close, I will peel your skin off."
Eleanora raised her left wrist, pulling back her sleeve to check her watch.
"Your heart rate is currently sitting at one hundred and thirty," she stated flatly. "Cold sweat is soaking through your custom shirt. You have exactly fifteen minutes to decide if you want my needles in your head, or your next spasm will put you into hemorrhagic shock."
Fidel's jaw clamped shut. A fresh wave of agony ripped through his skull, validating her exact timeline.
He stared at the woman. She was arrogant, cold, and entirely unafraid of him.
His survival instinct overpowered his paranoia.
"Take her to my private suite at the club," Fidel ordered Julian.
Julian's eyes widened in shock. Fidel never let anyone into his private sanctuary.
Eleanora turned to Devonte and gave him a subtle nod. "Have the Aegis legal team handle the fallout," Eleanora murmured, her voice barely carrying over the sound of the storm. "I want all public records of this collision scrubbed, the street cameras looped, and the local precinct bought off within the hour."
Devonte backed away with a curt nod, returning to the Aston Martin to wait.
A bodyguard opened the rear door of the Escalade.
Eleanora climbed in. She sat on the plush leather seat, leaving a foot of space between herself and Fidel.
The door slammed shut, sealing them in the dark, quiet cabin.
The convoy accelerated, speeding through the rain toward the VIP club.
