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Novel Catalog
Chapter 23: The Two of Them Felt a Spark
As Dalton stepped into the elevator, the air seemed to turn icy cold, as if the atmosphere itself bent around his presence. He moved with an almost otherworldly composure, his face neutral, his gaze distant—until he made eye contact. Then, everything shifted. In those brief moments when his eyes locked onto someone, an undeniable aura of danger and allure radiated from him.
“Speak up,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding.
Victor wiped a cold bead of sweat from his forehead. “Mr. Yarwood, rest assured. Dr. Gibson is a specialist in this field at our hospital. With her treating Mr. Quinnell Senior, everything should be fine!”
If anyone could evoke such fear from powerful figures, it was Dalton Yarwood, the head of the renowned Yarwood family.
Dalton absentmindedly turned the beaded bracelet on his wrist, his eyes narrowing slightly. “The news I received doesn’t match,” he stated, his tone as cold as the air around him.
“Mr. Yarwood, we really didn’t lie to you,” Jeremy stuttered, his voice filled with desperation. “Even if we had the courage, we wouldn’t dare delay Mr. Quinnell Senior’s treatment. He’s from the Quinnell family!”
Dalton remained silent, his gaze fixed ahead. He said nothing more as the elevator slowly ascended toward the 6th floor.
The silence, thick and palpable, made Victor’s legs feel like jelly. When they finally reached the 6th floor, Dalton made no move to exit, only allowing Victor and Jeremy to step out first.
The moment they entered the hallway, they understood. Dalton didn’t want to reveal his identity just yet. But the question that lingered in the air was why Hilda was in the observation room instead of attending to the patient.
Dalton paused at the doorway of the emergency room, his eyes falling on the attending physician as she gathered the acupuncture needles from the patient’s body. His voice was chilling when he spoke: “Wasn’t Dr. Gibson supposed to be performing the surgery? Then who is she?”
The figure by the patient’s bedside wore a medical mask and cap, her movements swift and confident as she collected the needles. Her technique was flawless, professional, but there was something undeniably youthful about her eyes.
“S—She…” Jeremy faltered, beads of sweat forming on his brow. He was too frightened to come up with a reasonable explanation.
Victor, now losing his composure, grabbed Hilda by the arm. “Dr. Gibson, why aren’t you in the emergency room? Why is the little girl treating patients?” His voice trembled with a mix of confusion and frustration.
Hilda’s expression softened when she saw Victor, but her lips still curled with disdain. “Mr. Lopez, I was just about to report this to you. Dr. Lopez has been too audacious. The patient’s family member hasn’t even signed the consent form, and he dares to let an amateur treat the patient!”
Victor, now thoroughly enraged, couldn’t hold back any longer. He knew Dalton was watching and couldn’t afford to lose face. “I’m asking you why you’re not in the emergency room!”
“The family member hasn’t signed. Besides, it’s just a normal patient. Do I really need to personally attend to it?” Hilda said dismissively, almost as if she were too important to care.
Victor’s face turned red. “A normal patient? Did you just say it’s a normal patient? Hilda Gibson, are you out of your mind? That’s Mr. Quinnell Senior from the Quinnell family in Kingbourne!”
The moment the name Quinnell left Victor’s lips, Hilda’s face drained of color. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor.
“How is this possible… How is this possible…” she muttered, barely able to comprehend what she had just heard.
Victor’s frustration turned into fury. He waved his hand dismissively. “How is it not possible? You—you can’t even seize an opportunity to save an important person!”
The regret hit Hilda like a freight train. She had let the chance slip through her fingers. If only she had treated Fabian herself…
Anxiety overwhelmed her, and she fell into a stroke-induced collapse.
Victor, no longer able to tolerate her incompetence, had the nurses quickly carry her away.
Meanwhile, in the emergency room, Wynter finished treating the patient. She wiped her hands clean with alcohol, her gaze wandering to the glass window.
Dalton stood outside, his figure framed by the light, an unsettling calmness emanating from him. His sharp gaze captured hers, and the intensity of his stare sent a shiver down her spine. There was something about the way he stood there—so composed, so powerful—that left her momentarily breathless.
She had felt his eyes on her even before she looked up. And now, sure enough, their gazes met across the distance. The connection was instant, subtle, yet undeniably magnetic.
Dalton raised an eyebrow slightly, tilting his head, his eyes never leaving hers. The brief exchange of glances lingered in the air, a momentary spark between them.
Both of them felt it, though neither acknowledged it aloud. The quiet intensity of that gaze spoke volumes.
And as their eyes locked, something unspoken passed between them. Something neither could fully understand yet both felt in their bones.
