Chapter 3

It was Irene's senior classmate, Zachary Slate. They had graduated from the medical institute, but he graduated two years ahead of Irene. He was pretty famous in the country now, but he had always taken good care of Irene, and they were good friends.

"Shoot," Irene said straightforwardly.

"I have an outpatient visit to make, but something came up. Could you fill in for me?"

Irene glanced at that time. She only had two surgeries in the afternoon and no outpatient visits for the day, so she was free in the morning.

"Sure," she replied.

"The address is Unit 306, Section A, Rose Garden. Tell them that you're looking for a Mr. Hill. Security will know what you’re talking about."

"Okay."

"Also, don't mention this to anyone else at all, and don't ask the patient any questions. Just treat him, that's all you have to do," Zachary instructed her solemnly.

"Got it," Irene replied as she hung up the phone and headed straight to the designated address.

Rose Garden was a luxury residential area with top-notch security to ensure safety and privacy.

When the security guards stopped Irene at the gates, she told them that she was looking for Mr. Hill, and they made a call to confirm this visit before letting her in.

After reaching Unit 306, Irene pressed the doorbell. The door quickly opened and Stan was the one who opened it.

He frowned when he saw that it wasn't Zachary. "Who are you?"

Irene knew from Zachary's call that the patient seemed to be the secretive type, so she had a mask on since she didn't want to bring trouble for herself.

"Dr. Slate sent me."

Stan glanced at the Gladstone bag she was holding then. "Do you know what you need to do?"

"Yes. Dr. Slate has given me the instructions before I came over. Everything about this visit will be kept private."

Stan felt that Zachary wouldn’t just send anyone over, so he allowed Irene inside.

Leading her past the living room, they arrived at a room on the second floor, but the lights within were all switched off.

"It's so dark," Irene complained. "How do you expect me to do my job in such a dark environment."

When Isaac heard that it was a woman’s voice, he grabbed the jacket he threw to one side and placed it on his head as he said coldly, "Turn on the lights."

Stan flipped a switch, and the room was lit in an instant.

At the same time, Irene found the voice rather familiar but didn’t think it’s important. She looked at the man on the bed, whose white shirt was dyed maroon with dried blood.

She didn’t use too much time to inspect the man. She had a job to do, and she should be more self-aware since the man clearly didn't want her to know who he was.

Opening her bag on the table, she took out a pair of scissors and cut off the fabric covering the man's wounds. She then quickly examined the wounds and saw that they were covered in simple bandages, which she removed as well. That revealed two cuts made by sharp objects.

Putting down the scissors, she cleaned the wounds calmly and proficiently.

"Are you allergic to anesthetics?" she asked.

The wounds were not deep and didn't reach any organs, but they needed stitching, which in turn made anesthetics necessary.

Her voice was very calm at the moment and sounded nothing like the previous night when she was in a panic. That was why Isaac didn’t find her voice familiar just now.

Noting that she was quick on her feet and therefore acknowledging her abilities, Isaac said coldly, "No."

With that, Irene injected anesthetics around the wounds. She then got to work after the drugs took affect.

An hour later, she was done. It was a swift procedure on all accounts.

Her hands were stained with blood, so she said, "I need to go to the washroom."

"Go, it’s downstairs," said Stan.

After she left, Stan stayed by the doorway for a while to confirm that she did indeed head downstairs, before closing the door and walking up to Isaac.

"We were able to find out that the people last night were sent by Quincy Moore. She must have panicked and tried to kill you since you got rid of her spies in your company."

Isaac sat up in response. His clothes were a mess, and he appeared frail and sickly, but he still emitted a sharp aura regardless.

He then looked up with eyes so dark that made them look like an abyss. "Was she the one who pulled strings and forced my marriage?"

Stan paused for a moment and quietly said, "Yes. I found out that Lionel Spencer had been in contact with her. The whole thing was fishy in the first place, but it's almost certain that she did something behind our backs. That's why Lionel chose you as the bridegroom and not Ian."

"Well, since she's been giving me one 'present' after another, it would look bad if I didn't return the favor," Isaac growled. He had just left the country for an errand, and everyone else had been busy while he was away.

Though he appeared aloof, the coldness lurking in his gaze was unmistakable. "I heard Ian has been managing that nightclub called Charmed at Central Avenue, right?"

Stan understood what Isaac meant immediately. "They get most of their income from the nightclubs. There’s no place for them in the company. If we get rid of the nightclubs, then they would definitely have a hard time in the future."

"Go," Isaac said quietly.

-

Stan was heading downstairs when he found Irene heading upstairs.

Despite knowing that Zachary must have informed her about maintaining secrecy, Stan still reminded, "Remember, if you speak a word of what you've seen or heard today, and you'll die a horrible death."

It was at once a warning and a reminder, but it was necessary. If Quincy or Ian were to find out that Isaac was hurt, they would definitely seize the opportunity to cause trouble.

"I won't," replied Irene, keeping her head down. "I'll leave right after I get my bag."

Returning to the room upstairs, she saw that the wounded man had taken off his bloodstained shirt, revealing the clean lines over his broad shoulders and slender waist that lacked any fat. His body proportions seemed neatly trimmed and projected a sense of power.

"Aren't you leaving" the man asked with a hint of languid irony, seemingly sensing her stare.

Irene quickly shifted her gaze downward. She was definitely in a daze just now.