Chapter 213
Alexander turned to Julian, his gaze steady.
“How’s Amelia doing?” Julian’s stiff demeanor softened at the question, a faint smile curving his lips.
“She’s responding well to the treatment. She’s not as guarded around me anymore. She’s a sweet girl.”
Despite the simmering tension between them, any mention of patients brought out Julian’s composed, professional nature. His tone lightened considerably as they discussed his work.
“I’m confident Amelia’s condition will continue to improve,” Julian added.
Alexander’s expression softened at the mention of his niece. “Thank you, Dr. Whitmore.”
Even though the two men rarely saw eye-to-eye, Alexander respected Julian’s medical expertise and patience. He knew all too well how much Amelia had resisted contact from others. The fact that she had opened up to Julian spoke volumes about his dedication and skill.
“This is just my job, Mr. Kingsley. No need to make such a fuss,” Julian replied with a modest smile.
The sharp atmosphere between them seemed to dissipate, as if the earlier friction had never existed.
“I’ll make sure to repay you properly for Amelia’s treatment and for today…” Alexander’s brows furrowed slightly. “Thanks for stepping in earlier, but why were you here all of a sudden? And Darren—he didn’t lose his mind out of the blue. It felt too orchestrated.”
Isabella, who had been listening quietly, interjected with a mischievous grin. “You finally caught on, Mr. Kingsley. It was me. I called Julian over.”
She raised an eyebrow playfully and continued, “I figured it was best to fight fire with fire. So, I had Julian bring some medication, just in case. Turns out, it came in handy.”
She went on to explain her earlier plan. Julian’s medicine worked wonders. As soon as it was administered, Darren had a strong reaction. He ended up spilling every detail about his dealings with Sophia.
Julian offered a faint smile. “It’s just something I’ve been researching. I’m glad it could help, Isabella.”
Alexander, lost in thought, tapped his fingers rhythmically on the armrest of his wheelchair. He nodded slightly before looking over his shoulder. “Sebastian, come in.”
Sebastian entered, his expression serious and attentive.
“Make sure the staff at the psychiatric hospital keeps a close watch on Darren,” Alexander instructed coldly. “He should never be seen in Ontdale again.”
The sharpness of his tone left no room for ambiguity. Darren wasn’t truly insane, so if they didn’t handle things carefully, he could cause even more damage. Alexander wasn’t willing to take that risk, especially not where Isabella was concerned. There could be no more mistakes.
Sebastian nodded. “Understood.” He knew exactly what his boss meant. Darren had to disappear for good.
Meanwhile, hidden deep in the woods, Darren crouched low behind a tree, his breathing ragged. He clutched his injured wrist, a sickening throb radiating up his arm from where he’d cut it after leaping out of the psychiatric hospital van. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and every movement sent fresh waves of agony through his body.
In the van, Darren had already regained consciousness, his mind still hazy from the lingering effects of the drug. Yet, despite his disoriented state, he managed to slip through a crack in the back window and escape.
Now, leaning against the rough bark of a tree, he began to realize just how ridiculous his actions had been earlier. The hallucinations, the obsession with money—it all became painfully clear. Someone had set him up. He was trapped.
And as that thought crossed his mind, an image of the smiling doctor, Julian, flashed before him.
Darren’s expression twisted with rage. After his public meltdown today, he had lost everything—his credibility, his money, and any shred of respect. He was nothing but a joke. Even worse, he’d provoked people far more powerful than he’d ever imagined.
“There’s no way I’m going to that psychiatric hospital,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
He pulled out his phone, his hands trembling, and dialed Sophia’s number. Maybe she could give him enough money to disappear for a while. But the call didn’t even go through. She’d blocked him.
Darren’s grip tightened on the phone, and with a snarl, he hurled it to the ground. It shattered into useless pieces. His chest heaved with unrestrained fury.
If they caught him and sent him back to that hospital, they’d ruin him for good, turning him into a real lunatic. All he’d ever wanted was money. Now, not only had he failed to get paid, but he’d lost a finger and destroyed his reputation. He was being dragged into an abyss, a disposable pawn in the ruthless games of the wealthy.
Why should Isabella get to enjoy luxury and power while he rotted away in misery? Why should Sophia and the others brush him off like he was nothing? His lips curled into a sinister smile.
“If I can’t live well, then let’s all go down together.”
Darren stumbled into a small town nearby, borrowed a phone, and dialed Sophia’s number once more.
“Miss Kensington, did you really think blocking me would be enough?” His voice was low, dangerous. “I’ve got recordings of our conversations. You wouldn’t want your husband to find out, would you?”
On the other end of the line, Sophia paused, her breath catching. She had been about to hang up, but now her grip tightened on the phone.
“You actually kept backups?” she asked, her voice tight.
“If I didn’t plan ahead, you would’ve thrown me under the bus a long time ago,” Darren replied with a bitter laugh. “I’m not stupid.”
Sophia’s expression darkened as the pressure began to build. She had only just convinced Ethan that she wasn’t involved in the scandal. Dealing with the media and online rumors had already drained her. And now this scumbag had the audacity to blackmail her?
Expressionless, she asked, “What exactly do you want? Are you trying to threaten me? Who’s going to believe a lunatic like you? I could say the recordings are fake, and no one would bat an eye.”
She tried to scare him off, but Darren remained unshaken.
“Real or fake, it won’t matter once I hand them over to Isabella. The media will eat it up,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “Miss Kensington, I might not have power or influence, but there are plenty of people who’d love to see you fall.”
