The Billionaire's Regret: His Secret Wife Turned Medical Genius novel Chapter 99

Roman straightened his collar, stood, and walked away without a glance back.

Behind him, the two men dragged the half-conscious Cole into a van.

Soon, the vehicle disappeared into the night and eventually stopped in the city's filthiest, most chaotic slum.

Cole was tossed out, and from that moment on, it was as if he had vanished from the face of the earth.

In the returning car, Roman pulled out his phone and sent a text to Gabriel.

"It's done."

...

At Mallory's apartment, Emily sat at the table, eyes fixed on her laptop as she organized medical case files she would need for her exchange program in Ritzland.

Her profile was calm and focused.

Just then, Mallory walked over with two glasses of warm milk and sat beside her. "Mills."

"Hm?" Emily didn't look up.

"I heard something in the department this morning… Maurice had a stroke and is half-paralyzed. He was brought to our hospital," Mallory said.

Emily's fingers paused on the keyboard momentarily. Then, they moved again at the same steady pace from before. Her voice carried no emotion at all as she replied, "Is that so?"

As Mallory observed Emily's flat reaction, she felt both heartache and a sense of relief.

It looked like she had finally let go of the Sterlings.

"He's paralyzed. What does that have to do with me?" Emily shut her laptop and sipped on her milk. "I only regret that it wasn't complete enough."

Mallory then dropped the subject and said, "By the way, the department's holding a farewell party for us tonight in the third floor cafeteria. Everyone's going.

"Let's go together. Think of it as a little getaway."

Emily considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."

…

At 7:00 pm that evening, the hospital's third floor cafeteria had been decorated simply but warmly. Bright lights filled the space, and the long table was laid out with a variety of food and drinks.

When Emily and Mallory arrived, all eyes turned their way.

As a young and accomplished chief of cardiothoracic surgery—and a strikingly beautiful one at that—Emily naturally became the center of attention.

Several young doctors wanted to approach her, but hesitation kept them back.

He had given her a little freedom, and she was already rushing to find herself another man.

...

The champagne hit hard.

Emily felt the ceiling spin, and the floor seemed to soften beneath her feet.

Voices of congratulations from colleagues blurred into a distant hum. She only knew that she kept drinking glass after glass, as if she could drown three years of suffocating pain and the weight of her family in alcohol.

Mallory was already slumped over the table, completely out as well.

Arthur watched Emily's flushed cheeks and dazed eyes, then reached out to steady her swaying body. "Emily, you're drunk."

But Emily waved him off, reaching for another glass. "I'm not drunk."

Arthur held her hand gently but firmly. Then, he said, "It's late. I'll take you and Dr. Prescott home."

He was just about to help Emily up when a cold air swept in from behind him, suffocating the surrounding atmosphere. Then, a deep voice cut through the air.

"Her affairs aren't yours to handle."