The rain was damn heavy, hammering against the glass door of the cyber cafe like a bunch of tiny frantic fists. Valerie sat there in the corner, her breathing ragged, staring straight at the glowing monitor. Her hands were still wet and shivering, but her mind was damn well clear now. That bastard Adrian. All those months of sweet talk, holding her hand, acting like the most caring husband in the whole of Singapore—all of it was just a bloody setup. He didn’t want to cure her heart; he wanted to cut her open and sell her parts to some filthy rich buyer. And her father? The sudden heart attack that killed Aris Wijaya six months ago? Looking at the dates on those server logs, Valerie felt a cold wave crash right through her chest. It wasn’t natural. Her old man had been poisoned slowly, just like they were doing to her, so Adrian could get his hands on the pharmaceutical empire.
“Wah, steady lah, Mr. Baskoro. You damn smart hor,” Valerie whispered to herself, her teeth grinding together so hard her jaw ached.
She quickly plugged the USB drive her father had given her into the terminal. The folder opened up instantly, revealing a stack of encrypted audio files and legal documents. It was her father’s insurance policy. Aris had known before he died that Adrian was up to no good, but he hadn’t managed to finish exposing him. Now, it was up to Valerie. She didn’t have much time. It was already nearly four in the morning, and once the nurses did the morning ward round at six, they would realize she had fly-aeroplane from her room. Adrian would send his security goons everywhere, combing through every corner of Orchard Road and Marina Bay to drag her back.
She couldn’t go back to the hospital. And she couldn’t call the police directly either, because Adrian had friends everywhere in the medical board and the local authorities. He had too much power, too much money. She needed to take him down publicly, right in front of everyone, during the annual Singapore Medical Symposium happening later this morning at the Marina Bay Sands convention center. Adrian was scheduled to give the keynote speech on breakthrough cardiovascular surgeries. What a bloody joke.
Valerie grabbed a taxi outside the cyber cafe, shivering in her wet jacket. “Uncle, go to Marina Bay Sands, basement loading bay, quick hor,” she told the driver in her best local slang, flashing a fifty-dollar note to make him press the accelerator harder. The taxi zoomed down the expressway, the early morning Singapore skyline looking like a sea of neon lights cutting through the grey mist.
By five-thirty in the morning, Valerie had sneaked into the backstage area of the convention center using an old staff pass she found in her dad’s emergency kit. The massive hall was still empty, smelling of fresh carpet and expensive coffee. Giant LED screens lit up the stage, displaying Adrian’s face under the bold title: Dr. Adrian Baskoro – Saving Lives, Redefining the Future of Cardiology.
Valerie walked up to the main AV control desk. The technician was dozing off with his earphones on. She didn’t hesitate. She plugged her USB drive straight into the main presentation console, overriding the default file with the hidden CCTV footage she had downloaded from the hospital server. The entire conversation between Adrian and Dr. Pauline flashed on the preview screen, crystal clear with high-definition audio. She also uploaded the medical records proving her heart was actually healthy until Adrian started dosing her with slow-acting toxins.
At nine o’clock sharp, the hall was packed. Hundreds of doctors, medical researchers, and reporters from Channel NewsAsia and The Straits Times filled the seats, clapping politely as Adrian walked onto the stage in a sharp tailored suit, looking every bit the brilliant, compassionate healer.
“Good morning, esteemed colleagues and friends,” Adrian began, his voice smooth and confident, echoing through the massive sound system. “Today, I want to talk about sacrifice, about the ultimate dedication a doctor must have when facing incurable heart failure…”
Valerie watched from the wings, her heart pounding like crazy against her ribs, but her grip on the microphone remote was steady as a rock.
“…sometimes, we have to make painful choices,” Adrian continued, smiling warmly at the audience. “We have to let go of what we love to save something greater…”
“Eh, bullshit lah, Adrian,” Valerie’s voice suddenly blasted through the speakers, cutting him off mid-sentence.
The entire auditorium went dead silent. Heads snapped around in shock. On the massive screens behind Adrian, the live presentation vanished instantly, replaced by the video of Adrian and Dr. Pauline discussing how to sedate Valerie for seventy-0wo hours and sell her organs to a billionaire.
Adrian’s face turned completely white. All the blood drained from his cheeks in a second. He spun around, staring at the screen in absolute horror as his own cold, mocking laughter echoed through the hall: “Leave it blank. Once Valerie enters the operating theatre, her name won’t matter anymore.”
Murmurs erupted like a thunderstorm across the crowd. Reporters stood up, cameras flashing wildly, capturing every single twitch of panic on the famous surgeon’s face.
Valerie stepped out from the wings into the blinding stage lights, walking slowly toward the center podium. She looked straight at Adrian, who was trembling, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“You said my name wouldn’t matter anymore, Adrian,” Valerie said, her voice steady, ringing clear and sharp through the microphone. “So I came here to remind everyone who I am. And to make sure your name goes down in history for a completely different kind of cut.”
Before Adrian could even take a step toward her, the side doors of the auditorium burst open. Two senior officers from the Commercial Affairs Department, accompanied by local police, strode down the aisle with handcuffs ready.
Adrian dropped his notes on the stage floor, his knees buckling beneath him as the cold reality hit home. Valerie stood tall under the bright lights, the heavy rain outside finally stopping as the first rays of morning sun broke over the Marina Bay waterfront, shining brightly across her face.