Russian Bastard | A Mafia Novel ✧

Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Zeke

A beat of silence rang through the room once Tatiana left with the Eloise girl. Zeke, still situated on the hospital bed, came down from his place and walked back towards one of the two single couch seats he and Tatiana were previously sat on. 

"My uncle Vincent has a very high opinion of you, Dr. Caron." Zeke praised him as he slowly lowered himself onto the chair.

"He holds far too high an esteem for me, Mr. Vasiliev." He replied with a small smile, shuffling papers on his desk. "Higher than I deserve." He looked up at him. "And, please, call me Geoffrey."

"Only if you call me Zeke." Zeke countered. "Vincent speaks very fondly of you and I will have none of his close associates who he holds in confidence address me with such a formality."

Geoffrey gave him a small smile. "Very well, Zeke." Shaking his head in accent.

Zeke nodded, satisfied. "However, I am curious as to how you lost your license, Geoffrey." He wondered out loud in a monotone voice. "My uncle was very vague about it when questioned, claiming it is not his story to tell but he assured me that you are trustworthy."

"Be that as it may," He continued. "You will forgive me for my concern. It is the health of my fiancé we are talking about."

"There is nothing to forgive." Geoffrey waved him off. "Your concern is understandable. I've been meaning to ask, is your fiancé a Ms. Belluchi, or Ms. Verratti?"

Zeke kept his face impassive, a mask giving nothing away. "What broached your question, Geoffrey?"

He raised his hands in surrender. "Word travels faster than you think, Zekeil. I was simply curious." He answered, calling him by his complete name, making Zeke clench his fist in aggravation.

"I'm sure you've heard of the famous saying, 'curiosity killed the cat', Geoffrey." Zeke replied in a toneless voice. "It's best to keep this in mind."

"I will be sure to keep it in mind." Geoffrey responded before exhaling slowly, breathing as if to mentally prepare himself. "Where to begin?" He pondered aloud, setting his papers aside and leaning back in his high backed office chair.

"I was once a very valued doctor from St. Margaret's Hospital." He reminisced. "Do you know St. Margaret's motto?" He asked him. Zeke shook his head in no.

"Their motto is 'Health care for all'." Geoffrey answered, laughter evident in his voice.

"The board of directors had a very... select clientele, you see." He leaned forward, tenting his hands together. "St. Margaret, for all the equipment and resources at its disposal, only catered to patients who paid well."

This, Zeke knew. It is even the hospital that his mother Dahlia frequented the most for her health care for the splendor. Their chain of hospitals were very luxurious, and very overpriced.

"St. Margaret is one of the hospitals out there that has exceptional facilities for every possible sickness yet us doctors were not permitted to treat those who couldn't afford treatment in the hospital." He said. "Prices were too high, much too expensive than what is normally acceptable for various treatment. You can see the irony of the motto. 'All' only really referred to the upperclassmen of the country."

"I can understand the frustration." Zeke sympathized.

"With all due respect, Zeke, you cannot possibly understand." Geoffrey rebutted him in slight aggravation. "I am a doctor. I went into this line of work in order to help care for people who are ill. I took my studies seriously, my residency even more so, only to work in a hospital that I thought cared for all, regardless of status or riches." He ran his hands through his hair frustratedly.