"Sign this—now." "You're not serious." Gianna's voice was thin and steady. Assistant Song didn't flinch. She slammed the divorce packet onto the stainless tray between them and tapped the signature line with a manicured finger. "Forrest says it's final." "Forrest says a lot of things," Gianna said. "Right now someone needs to be in surgery." Song's mouth tightened. "Forrest gave orders. He wants patient C prioritized. Patient A will wait." "Patient A is a mother," Gianna said. "She has a child." Song looked away. "Orders are orders." Forrest's silhouette filled the corridor doorway. He didn't smile. He never did. He crossed his arms and watched like a judge at a trial he had already decided. "Forrest—" Gianna started. "Forrest made the decision months ago," Song said. "About everything." Gianna set the pen down, then picked it up. She slid the packet toward herself. "Forrest, you can't pick who lives because of a donor or a shareholder." "Watch me," Forrest said. He spoke like a man reading numbers off a board. "Patient C brings connections. Patient A doesn't." "Is that how you measure people now?" Gianna asked. "Forrest chooses survival by value," Song said quietly. "That's the rule." Gianna pushed the packet back. "I won't sign for that." The surgeon's boots scuffed. Dr. Xue appeared at the corridor corner, tie already stained with something dark. He had that practiced calm of a man who had made impossible choices