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

Novel Catalog

Chapter 68: The Gibsons Are Doomed
As the Gibsons basked in the moment, surrounded by praise and whispers of admiration, the atmosphere in the Inner Hall suddenly shifted. A group of plainclothes police officers stormed into the room, their presence unmistakable and their movements swift and coordinated.
The room froze. The officers were sharp and precise in their actions, quickly pressing Hilda and George to the ground with practiced ease. The commotion caused a ripple of panic through the crowd.
George struggled, shouting angrily, “Who are you? How dare you do this to us…!”
The leader of the group stepped forward, flashing his ID with an air of authority. “We’re the Special Operations Team.”
The words hit the air like a thunderclap. Special Operations Team? The room buzzed with confusion and fear. What were they doing here? Why had they come for the Gibsons?
Theo, ever the observer, raised an eyebrow but remained silent, watching the chaos unfold. His gaze lingered on the officers, his thoughts unreadable.
Wynter, however, didn’t move. She stood in the corner of the room, hidden in the shadows where the surveillance cameras couldn’t reach. With a calm and nonchalant air, she chewed on her gum and carried her bag, playing the part of the naive girl who was simply caught in the crossfire.
George, still struggling under the officers’ grip, bellowed, “I don’t care who you are! Do you know who’s behind the Gibsons?”
The officers pushed him back down with ease, not responding to his bluster.
Hilda, her face draining of color, scrambled for an explanation. “It’s a misunderstanding! Sir, I have Gerard Carter’s phone number! We…”
Before she could finish, the lead officer cut her off. “City Bureau Secretary Gerard Carter has pleaded guilty.”
The words sent a shockwave through Hilda, momentarily rendering her speechless.
“The Gibsons despise human life,” the officer continued coldly, “You used your position to sell organs, bribe officials, and deceive patients into unnecessary surgeries for heart resections. You’ve also committed academic fraud, framed colleagues, and recruited apprentices through deceitful marketing. With all these charges, I only feel that I’m arresting you a little too late. Take them all away!”
The room fell into stunned silence.
Hilda’s world crumbled around her. “He has pleaded guilty?” She repeated in disbelief, her voice cracking. In an instant, her haughty demeanor evaporated, replaced by sheer panic. “No! I don’t believe it! I don’t believe Mr. Carter would plead guilty!”
She tried to stand, but the officers forced her down again, her hair now disheveled as she screamed hysterically.
George, in a complete state of fear, urinated himself. “Aunt Hilda! What should we do? They’re serious!” His voice was shaking with terror.
The aristocratic families who had been watching with curiosity now recoiled in shock. They had never anticipated such a turn of events. Many were too stunned to speak, others exchanged glances, uncertain of how to react.
The plainclothes officers wasted no time. With swift, efficient movements, they began dragging Hilda, George, and the other members of the Gibson family out of the hall. Yvette, standing nearby, found herself swept up in the chaos as well, though it was clear she hadn’t been a primary target. If Charlie hadn’t intervened and explained the situation to the police, she might have been arrested alongside them.
The air in the manor had completely shifted. The sense of triumph that had surrounded the Gibsons moments ago was now replaced by a thick tension. People no longer cared about the medical consultation; they were all consumed with the shock of what was happening.
Nelson, afraid that the scandal might affect his reputation, quickly shook his head when the officers asked him a few questions. The incident with the Gibsons had shaken the entire room to its core. The aristocratic families, once confident in their status and power, now kept their mouths shut, too afraid to speak.
The police officers’ actions had rippled through the medical community, spreading panic and uncertainty. Soon, whispers of the Gibsons’ alleged crimes began circulating through the crowd.
“Did the Gibsons really perform random surgeries just to make money?” someone asked in disbelief.
“Maybe it’s a misunderstanding,” another voice chimed in, but this was quickly drowned out by a more skeptical one. “It’s not a misunderstanding! Look at your phones!”
Someone in the crowd had already posted a video. Within minutes, the footage spread across Southdale like wildfire, showing up on social media platforms, in shopping malls, hospitals, and even in the Yarwoods’ territory.
The video was clear.
In the footage, an elderly man was seen crying, pleading with Dr. Gibson. “One million for surgery fees is too high. I really can’t afford it.”
The camera then cut to Hilda, who didn’t even lift her head as she coldly responded, “If you can’t afford it, just wait to die! You don’t need to cry with me! Sir, what’s more important? Money or life?”
The old man, his tears still flowing, begged, “Dr. Gibson, is there no other way? Must I really undergo surgery?”
The video ended there, and the implications were clear. The Gibsons had been caught in the act, and the evidence was undeniable.
In a matter of moments, the reputation they had spent years building crumbled to dust.
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