The Heiress’ Return Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call1-100

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Chapter 29: Do You Know Who He Is
“It may not be curable,” Wynter said, leaning against the wall as she yawned lazily. “The cause is unknown, the diagnosis is unclear…”
Dalton’s voice interrupted with a chuckle, “And you’d like to call it a day because you’re tired.”
Wynter grinned at him. “It’s easy to talk with clever people.”
Her fingers fell gently on his wrist once more, taking his pulse with care. “Your treatment can’t be rushed. You’ll need patience.”
Dalton was the kind of person whom even the Grim Reaper didn’t welcome—he had somehow survived until now. It was evident he possessed an excellent character, someone who trusted in himself more than in fate or even gods.
The beaded bracelet on Dalton’s wrist was filled with tranquilizers that helped him sleep. Wynter was close enough to him to catch a faint scent of it.
“Improve your sleep and diet first,” she suggested, her voice relaxed but firm.
Wearily, she rubbed her neck with one hand, exhausted from the long day. “Eating well, sleeping well—those will help with your treatment.”
Dalton, looking at her with an unreadable expression, nodded quietly, “Okay.”
Before Wynter realized it, Dalton had taken the bag from her hand.
“Ethan, send Dr. Genius home,” Dalton’s voice was light yet carried authority.
Ethan, who was well aware of Dalton’s tendency to be displeased by unnecessary pestering, lowered his head. “Yes, Mr. Yarwood.”
Wynter waved her hand dismissively. “No need. The place I’m going is just opposite the hospital.” She didn’t want to get too involved with her patients beyond the necessary. “Mr. Lloyd can take me there.”
Ryan’s eyes lit up. “Yes! I’ll take her, don’t worry!”
Dalton responded with a hum but said nothing more.
Ethan hesitated before offering, “Mr. Yarwood, should we get Dr. Genius’s contact number?”
Dalton glanced back at Wynter.
Without hesitation, she pulled out her phone and handed it to him. “Just enter your number. I’ll check on you the next time I check on Mr. Quinnell.”
Dalton’s number?
Usually, people rushed to ask for Dalton’s number, only to be met with a message from Vincent instead. But now, for the first time, the revered head of the Yarwood family lowered his gaze to type his own number.
Victor, the short and chubby doctor, quietly edged closer. He stood on his tiptoes, trying to sneak a peek. He, too, wanted Dalton’s contact number!
Wynter’s sharp eyes darted toward him, and she quickly covered the phone. “Mr. Lopez, what are you doing?”
Victor stammered, flustered. “I… Why don’t you take my number, too? You can call me if anything happens at school!”
Wynter didn’t refuse. She treated everyone equally. “Sure,” she said, entering his number into her phone.
Before stepping into the elevator, Wynter turned back for a brief moment. Dalton stood there, bathed in soft, dim light, his presence calm and commanding. He appeared as if he had seen through everything life had to offer, standing with a quiet grace that was almost too perfect to grasp.
When the doctors around him spoke, he didn’t oppress them with his family’s power. Despite his far superior knowledge and experience, he was always willing to listen to others.
It was no wonder that Dalton never lost his grace. Most people on long-term medication would have dull, lifeless eyes, their spirits worn thin. But Dalton—though distant, and perhaps cold toward others—never seemed to hold any bitterness. His eyes were still beautiful, gentle, and filled with wisdom.
It would be a shame if someone like him—so capable, so magnanimous—were to die so young.
As the elevator doors closed, a soft voice from the hallway reached her ears. “Dr. Genius, are you really going to treat that person?”
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