“We will create an anonymous charity fund. A fund to support patients with rare lung diseases, which, I assume, are Naum’s symptoms. We will finance the fund generously. Then we will make sure that social services or the attending physician “accidentally” refer the family to our fund. They will apply for help without knowing that the money is coming from you. That way, they will receive the best treatment, and their dignity will be preserved.”
The plan was brilliant in its cold efficiency. It was typical of Radoslav. But something in me resisted. This was manipulation again. I was operating in the shadows again, pulling strings behind the scenes. I wanted no more secrets. I wanted to look these children in the eye and take responsibility.
“No, Radoslav. Not this time,” I said firmly. “I want to do it openly. We have to find a way.”
The lawyer sighed. “Okay. Then there’s another approach, a riskier one. We’ll contact the hospital where he’s being treated. I’ll cover all his current and future expenses directly. I’ll set up a trust in his name to cover everything from medications to private nurses. The family will be notified that the bills have been settled. They can refuse, of course, but few hospitals would refuse a sure payment. That would present them with a fait accompli.”
I liked this version better. It was direct. Intrusive, perhaps, but honest.
“Do it,” I ordered.
Over the next few days, I sprang into action. Radoslav arranged everything with one of the most elite private clinics in the country. We organized Naum’s transportation by private ambulance. Liliya and Deyan, of course, initially flatly refused. Deyan even threatened to call the police and accuse me of harassment.
Then Naum’s attending physician from the old hospital intervened. He was an old, wise man. I met with him in person and told him the whole story. He looked at me sternly, but there was also understanding in his gaze.
“The young people are proud, and rightly so,” the doctor told me. “But their grandfather’s condition is critical. Here we can only alleviate the symptoms. In that clinic they have equipment and specialists who can give him a real chance. Don’t let pride kill their grandfather.”
He was the one who managed to convince them. He didn’t tell them who was paying. He only told them that a sponsor had appeared, impressed by Naum’s story, and that they should accept for the sake of his life. With great reluctance and suspicion, they agreed.
Naum was transferred. I received daily reports from the clinic. His condition slowly, very slowly, began to stabilize. The best doctors took care of him around the clock.
But the silence from the family was deafening. I knew I hadn’t bought their forgiveness. I had only bought time. Time for Naum.
Meanwhile, another ghost from my past was preparing to take the stage. One day Radoslav called me in a worried voice.
“Assen, we have a problem. A big problem. Do you remember Simeon?”
How could I forget him? Simeon had been my business rival for years. An unscrupulous, predatory entrepreneur who had built his empire the same way I had—with aggressive acquisitions and ruthlessly crushing the competition. For years he had been trying to get his hands on Empire, the company I had founded. Even after I retired, I still owned a significant stake that prevented him from gaining full control.
“What did he do again?” I asked tiredly.
“It’s not what he did, it’s what he found. It seems his people have been digging into your past. And they’ve reached Naum. And his grandchildren.”
My heart stopped for a moment. “What does he know?”
“Everything, Asene. He knows about the betrayal. He knows that you are now paying for Naum’s treatment. And he sees this as an opportunity.”
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