Chapter 6 - THE PENTHOUSE PRISON PROMISE
Two days later, Logan brought in a team of high-priced legal consultants to draw up my "long-term care and financial settlement agreement," assuming I was still entirely non-responsive or too weak to comprehend. He stood by my bedside, stroking my bandaged hand with nauseating public tenderness, talking to me as if I were a child who needed comforting.
“Don’t worry, my love,” Logan murmured smoothly for the benefit of the nurses and lawyers in the room. “When you’re discharged, you’ll move straight into the Manhattan penthouse. You’ll never have to lift a finger. I’ve set up a trust fund. You’ll be taken care of for the rest of your life.” Every honeyed word was a calculated execution order designed to establish my permanent incapacity. Through Nurse Clara’s smuggled digital recorder tucked beneath my hospital pillow, every single syllable was captured in crystal-clear audio.
