The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 25

At The Fletcher Group.

As soon as Thurston stepped into his office, Nike followed closely behind carrying a first-aid kit and a spare mask.

Thurston sat down and raised his hand to remove his mask. His fingers accidentally tugged at the wound on his lip, drawing a very faint hiss from between his teeth.

Nike's gaze sharpened. The injury looked worse than when Jane’s father had beaten him up before. It didn't look like he went to teach Mr. Sherwood a lesson; it looked like he got beat up unilaterally. It probably wouldn't heal for a week.

"Mr. Fletcher, let's apply some medicine first," Nike stepped forward, placing the kit on the corner of the desk.

Thurston glanced at him, his tone carrying a careless stubbornness. "No need. I won't die from it."

It made no difference whether he treated it or not; Jane wouldn't let him come home anyway. Might as well let it rot.

Nike didn't leave. Remembering the call from Jane earlier, he repeated it word for word: "Mrs. Fletcher specifically ordered that you must apply medicine—she also said, once your injuries are completely healed, you can come home."

Hearing this, Thurston's eyes lit up instantly. The despondency from a moment ago vanished, replaced by urgency.

"Apply it! Do it now! Actually, get my family doctor over here. Put me on an IV drip. It heals faster!"

Nike secretly rolled his eyes. It was just a bruised lip and some minor swelling; the rest were surface scratches. Did he really need to make a scene with a doctor and an IV?

But he showed nothing on his face, answering respectfully, "Okay, I'll arrange it right away!"

Twenty minutes later, Ethan Sterling, who served as both the Fletcher family doctor and was Thurston's close friend, arrived in a rush.

Upon entering the office, he saw Thurston holding an ice pack to his mouth with one hand while furiously typing on his keyboard with the other, handling documents.

Ethan could only think: "He works harder than I do in the lab!"

After a thorough examination, Ethan straightened up. "All on the surface. The bone's fine. This ointment for a few days will clear it up."

But Thurston wouldn't budge. He insisted on an IV drip.

Ethan returned to his lab only to find Kingsley sitting on the sofa, half his face pressed against an ice pack, a bruise on the corner of his mouth identical to Thurston's.

He instantly understood. Exasperated and amused, he asked, "You fought Thurston? You two are nearly fifty combined, and you're still playing at elementary school brawls?"

He realized that burying himself in experiments for the last two weeks meant he had missed some serious drama.

Kingsley glanced at him, ignoring the teasing, and asked coldly, "Is there any way to make the bruising disappear by tomorrow?"

"Even if a miracle worker came back to life, he couldn't make a bruise vanish overnight."

Ethan sat down next to him, his curiosity peaking again.

"Tell me. I haven't paid attention to you guys for half a month. What exactly happened?"

Kingsley couldn't be bothered to explain. He just squeezed out two words through his teeth: "Quack doctor!"