Chapter 110 Clues, a Warm Confession
Sloane's POV
He paused, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes. "They thought they'd covered their tracks well enough, but what they didn't know is that if I want to find something out, there's nothing I can't uncover."
"What about the rest?" I pressed.
He shook his head, the exhaustion in his eyes deepening. "The rest... I really couldn't find anything. They wiped away all traces completely clean, and with Mike having gone insane, the trail ends there."
My heart skipped a beat. This meant Isabelle and Arthur were more cautious and more ruthless than I'd imagined.
If it weren't for Jared's sharp instincts and powerful investigative abilities, this case would probably have remained unsolved forever.
"You've worked hard." I cupped his face and kissed his cool, thin lips.
The kiss was light and gentle, yet lingering and tender.
His body stiffened at first, then he took control, gripping the back of my head and deepening the kiss.
His hot tongue conquered my mouth with a punishing force, yet also with the wild joy of having lost and found again. Only when I was breathless did he reluctantly let go.
He pulled me tightly into his embrace, his chin resting on top of my head, his voice low and husky, carrying the solemnity of a vow: "Sloane, trust me, from now on, I will never let anyone hurt you again."
I leaned against him, listening to his steady, strong heartbeat, feeling completely at peace.
All those past fears and anxieties found their home in this embrace.
Half a month later, I had finished all my work at David's hospital.
During this time, I'd been handling work handovers while cramming neurosurgery knowledge, so busy my feet barely touched the ground.
Jared had also kept his promise—a new medical team quickly arrived at the disaster area to take over my work.
As for Isabelle and Arthur, after that incident, they'd been much quieter, at least on the surface.
I'd vaguely heard some rumors that Arthur's cash flow had problems and a good portion of Isabelle's private funds had been frozen, but Jared never mentioned it in front of me, and I was happy to stay out of it.
To formally submit my resignation to David, I specifically invited him to a quiet restaurant for dinner.
"Sloane, how come you have time to treat me to dinner today?" David sat across from me, his face wearing a gentle smile, though his eyes held a hint of unease. "Is there... something you need to tell me?"
I put down my knife and fork, looked at him, took a deep breath, and said seriously: "David, I asked you here today because I want to formally submit my resignation."
"Resignation?" The smile on David's face instantly froze, and his utensils clattered loudly onto the table. He looked at me somewhat frantically, his eyes full of confusion and concern. "Sloane, did I do something wrong? Or is someone at the hospital bullying you? Tell me, and I'll handle it immediately!"
His nervous and flustered appearance made me not know whether to laugh or cry.
I shook my head and explained: "No, David, you've been very good to me, and my colleagues at the hospital have all been very supportive. The reason I'm resigning is because I've become Professor Brandon's student, and he's invited me to St. Grace Hospital to systematically study neurosurgery."
Only then did David relax, but his face soon showed deep reluctance.
He looked at me and said earnestly: "Sloane, St. Grace Hospital is excellent, and Professor Brandon is a top expert—this is your opportunity. Of course I'm happy for you. It's just... do you really have to leave?"
He sighed, his eyes showing a hint of regret. "You know, in the entire cardiac surgery department now, you're already capable of handling things independently. With you leaving, the hospital's loss will be huge."
"I know." I said softly, also feeling somewhat reluctant.
After all, David's hospital was where my career began—this place held my youth and hard work.
"How about this," David pondered for a moment, then his eyes suddenly lit up, his tone urgent as he proposed, "You don't have to resign completely. I can keep an honorary director position for you at the hospital. Usually you'd study at St. Grace Hospital, but if we encounter difficult cases or problems we really can't solve, you could come back to handle them. What do you think?"
I looked at him somewhat surprised, not expecting him to propose such a solution.
"Sloane, our hospital may not have the same conditions and platform as St. Grace Hospital, but we have our advantages too." David's eyes were sincere, his tone carrying a hint of persuasion. "You're already very skilled in cardiac surgery work. If you're willing to stay, I can give you seventy percent of the treatment fees."
Seventy percent? My heart jumped—that commission rate was ridiculously high.
Although I knew my value in cardiac surgery, I hadn't expected David to offer such generous terms.
He was practically using the hospital's resources to pave the way for my personal development.
"David, seventy percent is too much." I said carefully, though moved by his regard, I also knew that going too far was as bad as not going far enough. "I think a fifty-fifty split is more reasonable, and... I don't need a base salary."
Hearing this, David's brow immediately furrowed, his tone becoming more serious: "Sloane, are you looking down on David Hospital, or looking down on your own abilities? Your skills and reputation have long been worth this price! Since you don't want a base salary, I can't shortchange you even more. How about this—eighty percent! That's my bottom line. If you refuse again, you're not giving me face."
His attitude was firm, even carrying an undeniable forcefulness.
I looked at him, unable to describe what I was feeling.
This retention and trust, regardless of cost, made me feel warm, yet also somewhat at a loss.
Eighty percent commission—he was practically treating me like a hospital shareholder.
I wanted to refuse again, but facing those eyes full of sincerity and expectation, I ultimately couldn't say it.
"Alright, thank you, David." I said softly, though my heart felt somewhat heavy.
This weighty favor felt a bit hot to handle.
Only then did David smile with satisfaction, raising his wine glass and sincerely blessing me: "Sloane, I wish you success in the field of neurosurgery, with a bright future ahead!"
I raised my glass and clinked it gently with his, my aspirations for the future becoming clear and firm in that moment.
Just as we were about to finish our meal, my phone suddenly vibrated. I pulled it out and saw Jared's name flashing on the screen.
His timing for this call was really something.
I smiled apologetically at David, got up and walked to a corner of the restaurant, trying to keep my voice low as I answered: "Hello?"
"When will you be done eating?" Jared's low voice came through the phone, tinged with a hint of impatience, with some noisy background sounds that sounded like he was in a car.