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Novel Catalog
Chapter 36: Fabian Recognized Wynter?
Wynter lifted her gaze in the direction of the voice. Fabian was awake, resting on the hospital bed. Despite his age, his eyes lacked any hint of frailty, instead reflecting the calm and steady presence of someone seasoned by a lifetime of business dealings.
It was a quality few could claim, a kind of composed authority born from years of navigating the highs and lows of the business world. In fact, when it came to temperament, even ten Ewan Yates combined might not measure up to this elderly gentleman.
Though Fabian was not yet fully recovered, there was no mistaking the gravity in his voice.
In the room with him, aside from Fabian, was the handsome patient from the previous day. He sat at the bedside, legs crossed, dressed casually and exuding a sickly charm. His pale, slender hands rested on his knee as he appeared to be playing chess with Fabian. When he saw Wynter walk in, he smiled.
Wynter offered him a polite nod before setting down her black bag and moving toward Fabian. She smiled politely and said, “I wouldn’t dare call myself a lifesaver. It’s our duty as doctors to treat patients.”
But when Fabian saw her face—her exceptional beauty—his hand froze mid-air. He forgot all about his chess move.
The resemblance struck him like a lightning bolt. This woman looked so much like his lover when she was younger. If only he hadn’t been so focused on building his business, his lover might never have left Kingbourne for Frenda. Fabian’s thoughts wandered, captivated by the striking similarity.
Could she be his “little princess”? It felt like the pieces of an old puzzle falling into place.
His excitement bubbled over, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Dr. Genius, are you from Southdale? Have you ever been to Kingbourne or perhaps visited the Empire State Building?”
His hand gripped the chess piece tightly, as though he was waiting for something, hoping for a confirmation. The question made Dalton pause. His keen eyes shifted toward Wynter, and for a moment, the atmosphere felt charged.
Wynter put her bag down and avoided Dalton’s gaze, not wanting to be drawn into anything she wasn’t ready to share.
“Yes, I’m from here, Southdale. I haven’t left yet. I’ve seen the Empire State Building on TV though. My classmates say you have to see it in person to understand how magnificent it is,” she replied, smiling softly. “One day, I’ll take my grandma there.”
Her words weren’t an invitation for discussion about her family. She didn’t want to delve into personal matters with the patients, especially since “Dr. Miracle” could remain so elusive because she had chosen to stay hidden.
Though Fabian had expected her answer, he slumped slightly. His grip on the chess piece loosened, and he seemed to deflate, as if his spirit had waned.
He took a breath, trying to calm himself, then said, “It’s just my old eyes playing tricks on me… and my mind getting muddled. Dr. Genius, please don’t mind me.”
“Not at all,” Wynter said, her tone gentle. She couldn’t bear seeing the old man distressed.
After a moment’s thought, she added, “Mr. Quinnell, your family has always been known for its good deeds. I’m certain your descendants will be blessed, and your little princess will return safely.”
At her words, Fabian straightened up, a smile creeping across his face. His eyes crinkled with warmth as he spoke. “I hope so.”
Seeing him so cheered, Wynter smiled back, though there was a weight to her words.
Suddenly, Dalton’s voice cut through the moment. His tone was calm, but there was an edge of indifference in it. “How did you know the Quinnell family was looking for someone?”
Wynter’s eyes narrowed slightly as she processed the question. She then looked back at Dalton, her lips curving into a subtle smile.
“Just a guess,” she replied, her voice light. “Yesterday, when I was treating Mr. Quinnell with acupuncture, he kept mumbling ‘little princess’ over and over.”
Dalton raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. “I thought Ryan told you,” he said, casually resuming his game of chess. “It doesn’t matter how you know. You’re one of us.”
Wynter didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t need to. The unspoken understanding was clear: the Quinnell family had their secrets, but she was already enmeshed in them.
