Chapter 109:

Brad held her gaze and answered without flinching. “Then I’d ask you to craft a plan that stands above the rest, Ms. Wilde. Because for me, there’s only one doctor who can take the lead.”

Even among the brightest minds in medicine, he only needed one. The silence between them hinted at a rivalry that needed no words.

Evita held onto her confidence as she asked, “Then how do we begin consulting with the patients?”

“You can go solo or team up. I’m not picking for you,” said Brad.

That left the door wide open for anyone aiming to form smart alliances.

Evita was sure that she and her granddaughter could hold their own. So when Leland stepped in, thinking his past connection with Marsha might give him a way in, she turned him down without blinking.

She gave his outstretched hand a quick glance, a smirk tugging at her mouth.

With a slow motion, she adjusted her sleeve. Her eyes never even met his. “Dr. Kirk,” she said, loud enough for the nearby tables to hear, “we’ve handled our medical work just fine without help from the outside.”

Leland froze halfway through the gesture, his hand hanging awkwardly. His face tightened with unease. He had expected at least a small nod of respect. With his degrees and his name, he thought that Marsha and her grandmother would show basic manners. But they shut him out without a second thought.

There was a time, back when the Kirks still had pull, when Marsha might’ve kept up appearances. She might’ve smiled, maybe even humored him. But that era was gone. Their name didn’t hold weight anymore.

Marsha stood beside her grandmother and let out a small laugh. “Dr. Kirk, maybe you should head over to Rylie.” She paused for effect.

Then her eyes cut across the room and landed on Rylie. “A thief working together with a fool — what a good team!”

The remark drew a few quiet chuckles from the gathered doctors.

Lᴀtｅst chᴀptєrs in g𝑎lnovels.𝒸ο𝑚

Evita raised her chin and walked with the pride of someone who owned the room. “Some folks have never stepped inside a proper medical school, yet they still parade themselves where real expertise belongs.”

She made sure her voice carried as she added, “Marshy, always remember — our family’s medical skill isn’t something just any amateur can match.”

“You’re exactly right, Grandma,” said Marsha, her tone obedient, though mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Some people can’t even handle the basics of a diagnosis.”

The two spoke in perfect rhythm. Every word they threw stung like barbs.

Leland shrank back and drew his hand away. He looked ready to defend himself when a crisp snap echoed across the room. He turned toward the sound. Rylie had just shut a medical case. She stood up slowly. Evita had thrown her jabs at Leland, but her real target was Rylie.

The crowd fell still as Rylie walked toward her, each step pressing down on the old woman’s nerves.

“Ms. Wilde,” said Rylie, her smile faint and her eyes cold. “Since you’re so sure of yourself…”

She reached into her coat pocket and drew out a pair of medical gloves. She slid them on, taking her time. “Why don’t we place a little bet?”

.

.

.