Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter 46: The Gibsons Were Going to Die
Sergio hesitated, caught between wanting to spill everything he knew and fearing how it would affect Wynter’s image in front of her patients. Dalton, standing nearby, listened closely, his presence both commanding and quiet.
Wynter, however, raised her chin and gave a subtle nod, signaling Sergio to continue. Her expression was calm, but her eyes held a quiet expectation.
Sergio lowered his voice, leaning in slightly, and whispered, “I heard my grandpa say that your grandma, Margaret Yates, was a rising star in the medical field. Back then, the Yates family wasn’t very prominent, but she was exceptional. She treated many patients with complex conditions and cured them.
“I’m not sure what happened, but there was this one patient, one from the Gibson family, whom she treated the same time as their doctor. Your grandma insisted on using traditional methods, and… the patient died.”
Wynter’s face remained unchanged, but Sergio could see the faintest flicker in her eyes. He went on, voice tight with caution, “That incident caused a huge scandal at the time. If it weren’t for someone from Kingbourne protecting her, your grandma might’ve ended up in jail.
“But the Gibson family… they wanted more. They pushed to have her kicked out of the Medical Family Alliance to save face. I never expected Margaret Yates to be your grandmother, Dr. Genius.”
Wynter’s gaze sharpened as she turned to Sergio. “Then how do you think I got my medical skills? Do you think I was born with them?”
Sergio froze, realizing what she was implying. “I never thought of it like that…”
Wynter’s eyes narrowed, her voice cold but controlled. “Who was it that you said was conceited just now?”
Sergio’s eyes widened in panic. “Me! It was me! I’m the conceited one!” he stammered, visibly flustered.
He recalled how easily Wynter had handled George earlier, kicking him down with such precision. It was as though George hadn’t even stood a chance after that blow. And yet, somehow, George had walked away.
Sergio quickly changed the subject, eager to avoid making any more mistakes. “I-I’ll go light up the fire, as you said, Dr. Genius. It’s time to cook, right?”
Wynter flicked the invitation card she had been holding between her fingers and gave him a nonchalant smile. “Yes, go ahead.”
She acted as though nothing had transpired, but the coldness in her eyes remained.
Meanwhile, Ethan, noticing the card in her hand, quietly approached Dalton. “Sir, the invitation Dr. Genius is holding… It seems like it’s a fake one.”
Ethan had been in charge of sending out the real invitations for the Yarwood family’s seminar, so he was familiar with every detail of the cards.
Dalton’s expression darkened, his eyes growing stormy. “Get the fake one. Replace it with a real one and put it in her bag.”
Ethan lowered his voice, “I didn’t expect Dr. Genius to attend the seminar too. You two seem destined to meet.”
Dalton’s lips curved into a faint smile at the word “destined.” He rubbed the beads on his wrist, the word somehow pleasing him.
However, Ethan wasn’t finished. “But, sir, there’s something you should be cautious of. I’m afraid the rumor about her grandmother causing a patient’s death might be true. If Dr. Genius learned her medical skills from her, what if something goes wrong during her treatments?”
Dalton’s expression turned icy, and he fixed Ethan with a glare sharp enough to freeze the air. “This will be the last time I hear you speak of gossip. Do you understand?”
Ethan, terrified, nodded quickly. “I-I’m sorry! I won’t speak again!”
Dalton’s gaze lingered for a moment longer, before he turned and walked toward the backyard.
Ethan let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure where Dalton stood on the matter, but he knew better than to risk upsetting him further. He’d have to prepare for whatever came next, especially if Dalton was siding with Wynter.
Out in the backyard, Wynter had already started preparing for the evening meal under the shade of a Black Locust tree. Margaret, who had been trying to help, was gently pushed back into her rocking chair by Wynter. “You can rest today, Grandma. I’ll handle the cooking.”
Margaret raised an eyebrow skeptically. “You cooking? I thought you were a picky eater. Do you even know how to cook?”
Wynter smiled and handed her a teapot, walnuts, and a fan. “I’ll try. You can watch and tell me if I’m doing it right.”
Margaret chuckled, amused at her granddaughter’s determination. “Alright then, let’s see how you do.”
Without further words, Wynter went to work. She set up the chopping board and quickly sliced zucchini into neat pieces. She added spaghetti, peas, and mushrooms to a pot of boiling water, moving with practiced speed.
While the vegetables and pasta cooked, she continued chopping, moving with such precision that everything seemed effortless. A few minutes later, the savory aroma of sizzling ginger and shallots filled the air as she added them to the hot oil in the pan.
The smell was mouthwatering, and soon the backyard was filled with the sound of cooking, the clattering of pots, and the warmth of a meal being prepared. Despite the tension of earlier, there was something oddly peaceful about the way Wynter worked—focused, confident, and calm.
Margaret watched her with a mixture of pride and amusement, a small smile playing at her lips.
Wynter, in her quiet way, had proven something: she wasn’t just capable of taking care of herself—she could take care of those she loved, too.
