Chapter 3 The Injured Man
The voice on the phone belonged to a guy two years her senior, a graduate from the same medical school who had studied abroad and was now a renowned figure in the country. He had always looked out for her, making them good friends.
“What’s up?” she asked eagerly.
“I have a patient who needs urgent treatment, but I can’t make it there in time. Can you go for me?”
Freya Stone checked her schedule, finding no appointments that morning, only two surgeries in the afternoon.
“Sure,” she agreed.
“The address is Rose Garden A District, No. 306. Look for Mr Cross at the gate, and he’ll let you in.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t tell anyone or ask too many questions. Just treat him.”
“I understand,” Freya replied before taking a taxi to the location.
Arriving at a high-end residential area with top-notch security, she was stopped by the guard initially but allowed through after Mr Cross confirmed her arrival.
Locating room 306, she rang the doorbell.
The door opened promptly.
Xander Cross frowned, expecting Orion Russo and not Freya Stone.
“Who are you…?” he inquired.
Taking a cue from Orion Russo’s emphasis on the patient’s privacy, Freya wore a mask to avoid unnecessary trouble.
“Dr Russo sent me.”
“Do you know what to do?” Xander asked skeptically, eyeing Freya’s medical kit.
“Yes, he briefed me beforehand. I won’t speak out of turn.”
Convinced, Xander allowed her in, leading her through an expansive living room upstairs towards one of the bedrooms.
“It’s too dark here; how am I supposed to treat the patient like this?” Freya complained softly upon entering.
Elijah heard a woman’s voice then pulled his coat over his face, coldly commanding, “Turn on the lights.”
Xander switched on the lights, revealing every corner of the bedroom.
Freya, sensing familiarity in the man’s voice, focused on her task. Elijah lay on the bed, blood on his shirt dried to a dark red. She paid minimal attention, respecting the patient’s desire for privacy.
Setting up her medical kit, she cut the cloth around the wound, revealing two knife wounds on Elijah’s right side ribs. With practiced ease, she cleaned and examined the wound.
“Are you allergic to anesthesia?” she inquired, preparing for stitches. The wound wasn’t deep, but stitches were necessary, requiring local anesthesia.
Her calm voice contrasted with her panicked state from the previous night. Elijah, though attentive, couldn’t detect anything unusual. He trusted her medical skills.
“No allergies.”
Freya administered anesthesia. After two minutes of waiting for it to take effect, she began stitching up his wounds. It took only an hour. Blood stained her hands when she finished.
“I need to go wash my hands.”
“There’s a bathroom downstairs, go ahead.” Xander said.
As Freya left, Xander closed the door and approached.
“We’ve figured out who sent those people last night. Arwen Silverton did it because you removed all of her spies from our company. Now, with things going south for her, she’s resorting to trying to kill you.”
Elijah sat up, fierce despite his disheveled state. “Is my marriage related to her?”
Xander hesitated before whispering, “Yes. Leo Stone had contact with Arwen Silverton regarding your marriage proposal, which is strange since Thorne Silverton should be handling this matter. Something fishy is going on.”
“She gave me so many gifts without me giving anything back. I must seem ungrateful.” Elijah muttered bitterly while thinking about how someone could cause so much trouble while he was away just running errands outside of the country.
His expression stoic, he added, “I heard Thorne Silverton runs a place called CHARM on the Central Path.”
“They rely on its income since we’ve cut them off. If we shut them down, they’ll suffer greatly.”
“Go ahead,” Elijah commanded.
Xander went downstairs, where Freya was coming back up. Knowing Orion Russo had warned her, he stated, “If today’s events are leaked, you will die a very ugly death.”This is from NôvelDrama.Org.
If news of Elijah Silverton’s injury reached the ears of Arwen Silverton and Thorne Silverton, the mother-son duo would surely use it to cause trouble.
“I won’t,” Freya replied, lowering her head. “I’ll just take my medical kit and leave.”
As she ascended, she saw a man with his back facing the door. His blood-stained shirt had been removed, revealing a powerful physique. His waist was narrow without any excess fat, connected to his tight buttocks with symmetrical lines that exuded strength.
“Aren’t you leaving yet?” The man didn’t turn around but seemed to sense her gaze on him. His voice was lazy but mixed with a hint of sarcasm.
Freya quickly averted her gaze, realizing that she had been staring at him in awe just now.