Chapter 6 - The Doctor They Tried to Discredit
The medical board complaint was not subtle.
It accused Selene of accepting criminal funds, falsifying charity records, disclosing a patient’s protected information, and using a clinic patient to cultivate a personal relationship with Damen Volkov.
That final allegation made Selene laugh so hard her lawyer asked whether she needed water.
“Personal relationship?” Selene repeated.
Her attorney, Grace Kim, did not smile.
“Do not underestimate how effectively people weaponize implication.”
Selene stopped laughing.
“Right.”
The complaint attached screenshots.
One showed Selene entering Damen’s SUV with Ivy.
One showed Damen entering Mercy Street weeks earlier.
Selene stared.
“He had never been inside my clinic before that night.”
Grace leaned closer.
“Look at the timestamp.”
The image claimed to be from three weeks earlier.
Rain.
Same black suit.
Same clinic entrance.
But the awning above Mercy Street had been replaced eight days ago after storm damage.
The photograph showed the new awning.
Selene sat back.
“They altered the date.”
“Likely.”
“And they are stupid.”
“Careful. A sloppy lie can still injure someone before it collapses.”
Grace requested the original file and metadata through formal process.
The complaint also included an affidavit from a former patient claiming Selene had charged for services never performed.
Name: Nadia Petrov.
Selene knew the name.
She searched her memory.
Then found it.
“Nadia came once.”
“When?”
“Last year. Broken wrist.”
“Did you treat her?”
“I sent her to County because the fracture needed orthopedic reduction.”
“Did you bill?”
“No.”
Grace made a note.
“Good.”
There it was again.
Selene almost smiled.
They located Nadia through counsel.
She had not filed the affidavit.
She had not even known one existed.
When Grace showed her the signature, Nadia stared at it.
“That is not mine.”
Then she started shaking.
“Who is Preston Holloway?” Grace asked.
Nadia’s face changed.
“No.”
Selene stopped the interview.
“Give her a minute.”
Nadia looked at Selene.
“His brother owns my building.”
Peter again.
“What happened?”
Nadia swallowed.
“My boyfriend owed money. They told him the debt could disappear if I worked parties.”
“What kind of parties?” Grace asked gently.
Nadia looked down.
“I left before I found out.”
Selene’s stomach turned.
“Did they hurt you?”
Nadia shook her head.
“Not then.”
Her wrist.
Selene remembered the swelling.
The defensive bruise near the thumb.
“Who broke your wrist?”
Nadia began crying.
“Peter.”
Another woman.
Another brother.
Another story hidden behind ordinary paperwork.
Nadia agreed to speak with investigators after getting independent counsel and victim support.
The false medical-board affidavit became evidence of witness intimidation and fabrication.
The complaint against Selene did not disappear overnight.
It weakened.
That was enough.
Mercy Street reopened on limited hours.
The first morning back, twelve patients waited outside before Selene arrived.
She stopped on the sidewalk.
An elderly man named Mr. Alvarez held a cardboard sign.
OUR DOCTOR IS NOSY. WE LIKE IT.
Selene covered her face.
Maria laughed beside her.
“You’re crying.”
“I am going to revoke his blood-pressure refills.”
“You love him.”
“Unfortunately.”
Inside, the clinic smelled like disinfectant and repaired drywall.
Damen had paid for none of it.
Selene had made sure.
Insurance covered part.
A legitimate community foundation covered the rest through a transparent emergency grant reviewed by Grace.
Damen pretended not to be offended.
At lunch he appeared with sandwiches.
Selene stared.
“What?”
“No private jets? No diamond-encrusted soup?”
“They were out.”
He set down a paper bag.
She looked at him.
“You understand you cannot keep arriving at my workplace every time someone threatens me.”
“I came because Maria texted that you forgot lunch.”
Selene turned slowly toward reception.
Maria ducked behind the monitor.
Traitor.
Damen sat in the chair across from Selene’s desk.
“No bodyguards inside,” she said.
“They are outside.”
“Of course they are.”
He watched her unwrap the sandwich.
“You looked at the housing file?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“City counsel believes the emergency order was improperly withdrawn. They are reviewing old corruption records.”
“Sofia?”
“No new conclusion about cause. Your sister died of pneumonia complicated by prolonged cold exposure. The cold should not have existed. That is what the evidence currently supports.”
Damen nodded.
“You sound like a report.”
“Reports kept me from accusing a dead man of murder because I was angry.”
His eyes softened.
“My mother is alive.”
Selene looked up.
“I thought—”
“I said my sister died. My mother lives in Florida.”
“Does she know about the notebook?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“I’m afraid.”
The admission surprised both of them.
Damen looked toward the window.
“She spent twenty-three years blaming herself for not getting Sofia somewhere warmer. If I tell her she asked for help and the building ignored an emergency order…”
“She may blame herself differently.”
“Yes.”
Selene put down the sandwich.
“Then don’t tell her to make her feel better. Tell her because it is her history and she deserves the choice to know.”
He looked back at her.
“You always make things more difficult.”
“Truth is badly designed.”
His phone buzzed.
He read the message.
His expression hardened.
“What now?” Selene asked.
“Preston has contacted Ivy’s attorney.”
“What does he want?”
“To surrender.”
Selene frowned.
“That sounds too easy.”
“It is.”
“What is he asking for?”
Damen turned the phone around.
Preston wanted immunity from trafficking-related charges in exchange for Viktor Sokolov’s financial records.
And one other condition.
He would only surrender if Ivy came to the meeting in person.
Selene stared at the message.
“No.”
Damen nodded.
“Agreed.”
Then Selene read the final line.
Preston claimed he had the missing microcassette recorded by her father.
He also claimed the tape named the city official who buried the heat order before Sofia Volkov died.
Damen’s face became unreadable.
May you like
For the first time, Selene understood the trap was not built only for Ivy.
It was built for him too.
