Billionaire, I Am Not Your Wife! novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Flying To Chicago

Cameron POV

After my mother left, I picked up my phone and called my assistant, Marcus. He answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Marcus, I need the jet ready to go to Chicago within the hour. Take care of this urgently, call the pilot. And I need you to compile a list of the best oncologists in the country-no, in the world. Specialists in gastric cancer specifically. Stage three. I need their names on my screen in a few hours, coupled with their location.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Is everything alright, Mr. Preston?”

“Just do it, Marcus. And be discreet. I don’t want anyone knowing about this yet.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll have the information sent to your phone within thirty minutes.”

“Thank you.”

I hung up and stared at my computer screen, at the stock company reports I’d been reviewing before Sedona’s call. Suddenly, none of it mattered. The multi-million deals, the corporate acquisitions- all of it seemed little compared to my sister’s life.

Stage three. The words haunted me. I wasn’t a doctor, but I knew enough to know that stage three was serious. That it had advanced to a stage where it was life threatening and not many come back from that kind of developed cancer stage. That three months she said she had left was a death sentence.

But I refused to accept it. The Prestons didn’t give up, and we sure as hell didn’t let our family members die without a fight, we do not forsake family no matter what. If money could buy Sedona more time she needed, I’d spend every penny we had. If experimental treatments that proved to be 80% in saving lives existed anywhere in the world, I’d find them.

I pulled up my contacts and scrolled to Dr. Helena Morrison, a family friend and one of the top oncologists at Seattle Grace Hospital.

She’d known Sedona since she was a child, had even treated her when she’d had pneumonia at fifteen. If anyone would fight for my sister, and make sure that she got what it takes, to survive cancer, it was Helena.

“Cameron Preston,” Helena answered warmly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Helena, I need your help. It’s about Sedona.”

The warmth in her voice immediately shifted to concern and worry as I could hear the creak in her chair as she sat upright.

“You found her? Is she alright?”

“She’s alive, but she’s sick. Gastric cancer, stage three. A doctor in Chicago gave her three months.”

Oh, Cameron.” The sympathy in her voice made my chest squeeze. “I’m so sorry. Where is she now?”

“Still in Chicago, but I’m bringing her home tonight. I need you to clear your schedule, Helena. I don’t care what it costs or what strings T have to pull. I need the best treatment plan possible, and I need it yesterday.”

“Of course. Have her records sent to me as soon as possible. I’ll consult with my colleagues at MD Anderson and Mayo Clinic. We’ll explore every option, that we have for this kind of cancer, whether it’s surgery, chemotherapy, immunotherapy, clinical trials. Everything.”

“Thank you.”

“Cameron,” Helena’s voice softened a bit. “You should prepare yourself. Stage three gastric cancer is very serious. Even with a lot of treatment-”

“Don’t.” I cut her off. “Don’t tell me she’s going to die. I just got her back. I’m not losing her again.”

There was a long pause before she sighed as she said. “I’ll do everything I can. You have my word.”

After we hung up, I grabbed my go-bag from the closet, I had always kept one packed for emergency trips like this and headed down to the parking garage, where my car was waiting.

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