York left Ann's hospital room without a backward glance.
She pushed herself up from the floor, her hands flat against the cold tiles, and cursed through gritted teeth, "Bastard!"
When he was sweet to her, he'd listen to anything she said. The moment she stepped out of line, he'd put her in her place.
Ann was already terrified by Rock and exhausted from having her schemes exposed by York. She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
Judging by his attitude today, York was planning to cut ties with her and win back that bitch Claudia.
Ann couldn't let that happen. She was going to marry into the Ferguson family, become the mistress of the most powerful family in Capital City. She couldn't be forced out of the game now.
Stumbling to her feet, Ann grabbed her phone and dialed Wendy's number.
That evening, at Grant Manor.
After finishing Cyrus's treatment, Claudia lingered, reluctant to leave.
"If you really don't want to see him," Cyrus said, "I can have the staff prepare a room for you. You're welcome to stay."
Claudia was about to agree when Old Mr. Grant walked in.
She greeted him politely. "Dr. Watkins," Old Mr. Grant said, his tone firm, "Mr. Ferguson has been waiting for you downstairs for some time. If there's nothing else, you should be on your way."
Claudia shot an awkward glance at Cyrus and hurried downstairs.
Cyrus sat lazily in his wheelchair, dressed in black trousers and a white shirt unbuttoned low. His narrow eyes followed her to the door.
"Grandfather," he said, his low voice lifting slightly at the end, "did you just send my attending physician away?"
Old Mr. Grant's expression was stern. "Cyrus, Dr. Watkins is the Ferguson family's daughter-in-law. You need to be mindful of your boundaries."
Cyrus scoffed. "I don't care whose family she belongs to. When she's here, she's with me."


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