Chapter 17
Richard was at a loss for words. He had been swamped with work at the company, leaving the villa in Leslie’s care, only to return and find it in complete chaos.
His gaze darkened as he turned to Leslie. His voice was sharp and unforgiving.
“What exactly did you do today while you were home?”
Leslie’s face turned pale, panic flashing in her eyes.
“I—I just wanted Alan to recover faster,” she stammered, gripping Richard’s sleeve with trembling hands. “So I added some medicine to his food…”
She looked up at him desperately. “I didn’t know things would turn out like this!”
If she had known it would worsen Alan’s condition, she never would have done it.
Richard felt his blood boil. His hand instinctively raised—
But at the last second, he clenched his fist and dropped it. His voice was thick with restrained fury.
“You—”
He cut himself off, cursing inwardly. If Suzanne weren’t here, he might’ve lost control.
Leslie flinched, shrinking back as tears welled up in her eyes. Despite her fear, she clung to Richard’s arm, her voice cracking.
“Our son… He’s going to be alright, right?”
Her chest tightened with guilt. If something happened to Alan, she would never forgive herself.
Richard shot her a furious glare but didn’t answer. His eyes shifted to Alan’s weak, sweat-soaked body instead.
Seeing his silence, Leslie dared not speak again. She stood off to the side, heart pounding in dread.
Suzanne, however, had no time for their emotions.
Her full attention was on Alan.
Her hands moved swiftly, inserting more and more needles with precise accuracy. Alan’s flushed, reddened face gradually began to return to normal. The change was visible to the naked eye.
She let out a slow exhale, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table to wipe the sweat from her forehead before continuing with unwavering focus.
Alan, who had been thrashing violently, gradually calmed. The bulging veins on his body began to subside.
An hour later, the symptoms had completely dissipated.
Suzanne carefully removed the final needle.
The sudden, severe onset of Alan’s condition had drained his energy completely. By the time the treatment ended, he had fallen into a deep sleep.
But even in slumber, he looked worse than before.
Alan had already been tormented by his illness for so long, and now, his sunken eyes and pale face made him appear even more fragile.
After ensuring everything was stable, Suzanne turned to Joe and instructed, “You can untie him now.”
Joe’s face lit up with relief. He quickly moved to undo Alan’s restraints.
Suzanne took note of the raw, reddened marks on Alan’s wrists—some even bleeding slightly from his earlier struggles. She silently grabbed the first aid kit and treated the wounds with care before finally straightening up.
Richard immediately stepped forward, his face filled with concern.
“Dr. Smith, how is he?”
Leslie instinctively clutched the hem of her clothes, her eyes fixed on Suzanne with nervous anticipation.
Suzanne pressed her fingers against her aching temple before meeting Richard’s gaze. Her voice was firm.
“The amount of medicine he consumed this time wasn’t too much. If it had been any more, no one would’ve been able to save him.”
Her sharp eyes shifted to Leslie.
“If this happens again, you’ll need to find another doctor,” she snapped coldly. “When I treat a patient, my instructions must be followed to the letter. No exceptions.”
Doubting her was one thing. But outright ignoring her medical advice?
That was no different from attempted murder.
Leslie froze, the weight of Suzanne’s words sinking in.
The image of Alan’s earlier state—his violent convulsions, his face twisted in agony—seared into her mind.
She had nearly killed her own son.
A chill ran down her spine.
Her lips trembled, but she had no words left.
This version keeps the tension high and makes the dialogue flow more naturally. Let me know if you’d like any tweaks!
