Chapter 9 by Lorelei Thunder
“That’s nonsense! I’ve never heard of a hospital’s wards being closed off! Come up with a better lie next time! How old do you think I am? Three?”
At that moment, Dickson York came rushing over with several of his men. When he saw his son lying on a stretcher and his wife all bruised up, he exclaimed in astonishment, “How come the two of you are hurt so badly?”
“It’s all thanks to that son of a bitch, Woody Henderson! He instructed a bitch to beat us up! Do you even know how brutal they were? It hurts to high hell!” Trudy began complaining amidst sobs.
Trying to suppress his rage, Dickson said, “Don’t worry. I won’t let that bastard off easily. But right now, you both need to get treated first. Why haven’t you been admitted yet?”
Trudy immediately began explaining exaggeratedly and sarcastically. The doctor-in-charge was so frustrated by what he heard that he rolled his eyes.
“I’ll contact the director of the hospital. With our family status, I refuse to believe we can’t even get something as simple as a VIP ward here,” Dickson assured Trudy.
Then, he stepped aside to make the call.
Trudy immediately turned and began taunting the doctor-in-charge. “Do you hear that, you incompetent doctor? I’ll make sure I tell the director what you did. I’ll see to it that you end up in hot water!”
But Dickson soon returned with a troubled expression.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.
Too occupied with taunting the doctor-in-charge, Trudy failed to notice her husband’s expression. She ordered the security, “Why aren’t you opening the door yet? You’d better invite us in politely!”
“Uh … Honey, I think we can just resort to a regular ward. Dr. Maxwell promised to refer us to the best orthopedic specialist …”
“What’s that supposed to mean? He isn’t even going to let us have the VIP ward for your sake?”
Dickson explained in a hushed voice, “A prominent figure just got admitted. That’s why the VIP wards have been closed off.”
“And who’s that prominent figure? Is he really such an influential person?” Trudy’s eyes widened in disbelief.
From her point of view, the York family was already mighty powerful. Now, it seemed that they were nothing compared to the person who was admitted to the VIP ward.
Dickson shook his head. “I don’t know about that. But one thing I’m sure of is that we can’t afford to cross them. Let’s stop kicking up a fuss. Getting Brutus treated is what matters now.”
Trudy’s anger quickly dissipated in an instant. She hurriedly nodded. “A regular ward will do just fine for us. After all, it’s the director of the hospital who arranged it for us.
“Hey, do you all hear that? You’d better serve us well, or you’ll be in deep trouble!”
“Where’s Pamela? Why isn’t she here when something so serious has happened?”
“Let’s not interrupt her date with Mr. Donnel. This is a small matter. We can handle it ourselves,” Trudy answered.
The VIP wards were closed off and a perimeter was set up. Unrelated personnel were strictly prohibited from going near the wards. Besides the hospital security personnel, there was also a group of bodyguards dressed in black suits guarding the perimeter.
The York family had just left the place when a Rolls-Royce Cullinan drove up to the hospital. The security guards were quick to let them in.
The ward was approximately 1,200 square yards and was well equipped with all the most state-of-the-art medical facilities.
An ashen-looking middle-aged man lay on the bed. He was Mason Cartwright, a formidable man who used to dominate both the lawful and the underground world of Tiusto City.
He had lost so much weight that he looked like an entirely different person. His breathing was barely audible, and he was only sustained by all sorts of fluids and solutions.
There was no way this was the same man who had left Tiusto Penitentiary Facility in the pink of health just three years ago.
There was an elderly man with snowy white hair handling the various devices in the ward. He occasionally looked up to check on the statistics.
“Who’s this, Uncle Clement? I said that nobody is to come near the ward!” Helen lost her temper.
A fierce-looking middle-aged man asked in bewilderment, “Ms. Helen, isn’t this the specialist you personally contacted to treat Mason?”