The Mischievous Doctor (Finnegan and Nuthana) novel Chapter 442

“What's wrong, Mr. Larkin? You've been drinking a lot.”

In a narrow alleyway, a makeshift barbecue stand was discreetly in operation, cleverly evading the vigilant eyes of city regulators. Amidst the faint glow of the stand's lights, Hailey's gaze rested upon Finnegan with an unmistakable tinge of concern shimmering in her eyes.

The evening had taken an unexpected turn; after their departure from the opulent Firebird Hotel, Finnegan had not chosen the direct route back to Dragon Bay.

Instead, they found themselves here, in this hidden corner of the city, indulging in a casual barbecue feast accompanied by a not-so-moderate consumption of alcohol.

Setting aside his bottle with a deliberate motion, Finnegan queried Hailey, his voice laced with a hint of introspection, “What do you think is troubling me?”

Hailey, with a hesitance touching her voice, ventured a guess, “Could it be that Bruce has unsettled your peace of mind?”

Finnegan's response was tinged with a wry acknowledgment. “Aren't you stating the obvious?”

The opening of Jerome Medical Clinic was a significant event, and Finnegan had made his position crystal clear to Bruce during that time. His desire was for Patrick to ascend to the helm of the Zimmerman family and its sprawling business empire.

Bruce had seemed to acquiesce to this arrangement, even going as far as making a solemn vow to Patrick's family.

However, Bruce's recent actions had been a spectacle, leaving Finnegan in a state of profound irritation and unrest.

His agitation was so intense that it sparked a fierce desire within him to eliminate Bruce, yet he was acutely aware that such a course of action was not feasible.

Hailey's eyes flashed with a cold determination as she offered, “Why not entrust this matter to me? I can assist you in resolving it.”

Finnegan's gaze lifted to meet Hailey's, fully aware that her words carried the weight of a lethal promise—with a mere nod from him, Bruce's life could end in an “accidental” tragedy.

Yet, Finnegan quelled the violent storm raging within him, acknowledging the intricate dynamics at play, “Bruce's case is distinct from that of Timothy and Sapphire.”

The latter duo had been guilty of murder, a simple, unarguable fact.

Bernice, upon discovering the truth, would not harbor hatred toward Finnegan, as Timothy and Sapphire's demise was a just consequence of their actions, and they shared no blood ties with Bernice.

Bruce, however, stood in a different light; he was Bernice's biological grandfather.

Despite any current grievances, Bernice certainly did not wish for his demise.

A frown creased Hailey's brow as she observed, “Yet, he continues to be a thorn in your side.”

Finnegan, inhaling deeply, uncorked another bottle of alcohol and raised it to his lips, his voice carrying a note of finality, “This irritation is but temporary. Bruce will soon face the repercussions of his misguided choices.”

“Looks like you're in a bad mood. You've already had quite a lot to drink, haven't you?”

Just as Finnegan concluded his thoughts, the atmosphere of the alley shifted with the arrival of an alluring young woman. Her presence immediately drew the attention of the men around.

It was Lauren, unmistakable in her allure.

Hailey rose to her feet, her tone a mix of exasperation and challenge, “What brings you here again, Lauren? Haven't you learned enough from Mr. Larkin's past admonishments?”

Lauren's visage momentarily betrayed a flicker of discomfort, a remnant of her recent ordeal at the clinic.

Yet, she quickly regained her composure, her response laced with disdain, “What authority does someone of your standing have to question me?”

“You...”

Hailey's face darkened with emotion, but Finnegan intervened before she could confront Lauren. Addressing Lauren with a cold directness, he remarked, “Knowing well that I'm not in the best of spirits, you still choose to appear. Do you seek to become a target for my frustration, or is there a streak of masochism in you?”

Lauren's laugh was light, yet there was an underlying seriousness in her words, “My intentions are far from such peculiar inclinations. I'm here to discuss matters concerning my grandfather's treatment.”

Finnegan, his patience waning, gestured toward the bottles of alcohol remaining on the table, laying down a condition, “Consume all this alcohol, and then we can continue our discussion.”

Lauren's expression shifted to one of concern as she eyed the remaining six beer bottles strewn across the table.

Finnegan, however, did not grant her any time to ponder, issuing an ultimatum with a firm tone, “You have a mere five minutes to comply, or else... you must leave.”

Despite his stern directive, Lauren seemed unfazed, even leisurely reaching for her phone and queuing up a video to show Finnegan.

Her words carried a hint of challenge as she spoke. “Consider how this video's release would affect public perception of you. How would your fiancée, Bernice, react to this?”

Finnegan's eyes narrowed, a steely glint emerging as he viewed the footage on the phone.

Is it really that intense?

With a swift gesture, Finnegan grabbed a bottle of beer and unceremoniously began pouring its contents into Lauren's mouth. Despite her frantic struggles and attempts to resist, her efforts were futile against his unwavering resolve.

Lauren, once the poised and dignified daughter of the esteemed Gallagher family, found herself rapidly descending into a state of complete dishevelment and disarray.

Yet, Finnegan was far from done. As one bottle emptied, he promptly reached for a second, continuing his relentless endeavor.

Bottle after bottle, the remaining six were swiftly depleted, their contents unyieldingly forced upon Lauren.

Accustomed to the refined taste of high-end red wines, the harsh and unyielding assault of the beer left her reeling in nausea and distress. Lauren, her voice tinged with outrage and disbelief, confronted Finnegan, “How dare you treat me in such a vile manner, you brute!”

Finnegan, however, only responded with a cold, mocking laugh, “I have a particular disdain for threats, more so when I'm already in a foul mood. Hailey, bring more beer!”

Obligingly, Hailey returned with a new box of beer, which Finnegan promptly opened.

At this juncture, a sense of real panic began to dawn on Lauren. She warned him, her voice laced with a hint of desperation, “Stop this madness, Finnegan. The Gallagher family won't stand for such treatment.”

The thought of suffering severe physical repercussions, possibly even a life-threatening gastric hemorrhage from the excessive alcohol, filled her with dread and regret.

She lamented her impulsive decision to confront Finnegan alone, unprotected by any bodyguards.

I didn't expect him to be unfazed by my threats!

Finnegan, undeterred and unthreatened, raised another bottle of wine, taunting, “Since you've come seeking trouble, it's only fair I entertain you, right?” He proceeded to offer yet another bottle to Lauren's lips.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, you're not a gentleman at all. Can't you channel your frustrations differently?”

Their confrontation was suddenly interrupted by a heavy sigh echoing from the alley's end.

The atmosphere grew tense as more than a dozen men clad in black appeared, radiating a formidable and deadly presence.

Finnegan's attention shifted to the source of the sigh—a young man dressed with the extravagance of a nobleman's son, causing him to raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

Hailey's expression altered upon seeing the newcomer. “Wandering Knight!”