Chapter 82 Causing Trouble
Sloane's POV
Two equally outstanding men, at this moment like two confronting lions, using words as their sharpest weapons to fight over territory.
And I was the trophy caught in the middle, stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I was on pins and needles, feeling every single minute of this dinner was torture.
The silent tension between the two men was about to set the air on fire, and trapped in Jared's embrace, even breathing felt difficult.
"Sorry, I need to use the restroom." I finally couldn't take it anymore and found an excuse, gently pushing away Jared's arm.
His arm stiffened, as if he didn't want to let go, but when I met his gaze, the hurt and unwillingness that flashed in his eyes eventually turned into compromise.
He released me.
I practically fled to the restroom and splashed cold water on my burning cheeks.
In the mirror, my face was flushed with an unhealthy redness, my eyes panicked.
I leaned against the cool wall, pulled out my phone, and quickly typed a message.
[Jared, tone it down. I can barely breathe.]
After sending the message, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my pounding heart.
When I'd collected myself and pushed the door open to go back, I saw Harrison's figure in the hallway leading to the dining room.
He had his back to me, standing in front of a huge floor-to-ceiling window on a phone call. The night outlined his silhouette with a touch of loneliness. Gone was his refined manner from the dinner table—his voice was low but carried an edge of impatience and sharp confrontation.
"I told you, this has nothing to do with you."
"...What exactly do you want? Stop bothering me!"
He seemed extremely irritated and abruptly hung up. When he turned around, he caught my gaze before I could look away.
Our eyes met. The hostility in his eyes hadn't completely faded. He was clearly startled to see me, then quickly suppressed all his emotions and returned to that impeccable gentle appearance.
"Dr. Sloane." He nodded slightly at me.
"Are you..." I looked at his instantly calm face and hesitated, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he smiled, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Just some minor company troubles."
He glanced at his watch, his tone apologetic. "I'm sorry, something urgent came up that I need to handle. I'm afraid I have to leave early. I owe you for today's dinner."
With that, he said no more, strode past me, and left in a hurry.
I watched his figure disappear at the end of the hallway, the strange feeling in my heart growing stronger.
Back at the table, Jared was sitting alone, his face still dark.
Seeing only me return, his tense jawline finally relaxed a bit.
"He left," I said softly.
"Mm." He responded, as if finally relieved.
The next second, he suddenly stood up and pulled me into his arms without warning, his burning kisses raining down on me.
He kissed me until I could barely breathe. I could only cling to his shoulders, letting him vent his misplaced jealousy and insecurity.
Only when my whole body went weak did he pull back slightly, pressing his forehead against mine, dark currents surging in his eyes.
"Don't see him again." His voice was hoarse with a domineering command that left no room for argument.
A few days later, I went to the hospital as scheduled for hand rehabilitation. Though the wound from the porcelain cut had healed, Jared insisted I complete the full course of treatment to ensure no aftereffects that might affect precise operations.
Just as I reached the rehabilitation department entrance, a commotion of crying and arguing broke out, instantly shattering the hospital's usual quiet.
"You're all quacks! You don't care about people's lives! My dad came in fine, and now he's dead! You need to give us an explanation!" A middle-aged man grabbed Lila's white coat emotionally, shouting with spit flying.
Behind him, several family members were surrounding Jessie, wailing dramatically. The scene was chaotic.
There were even several reporters with cameras pointing at the helpless Lila and Jessie, flashbulbs going off constantly.
"Sir, please calm down. We did everything we could for the patient..." Lila's face was pale as she tried to explain, but her voice was quickly drowned out by the family's wailing and accusations.
"Did everything you could? Is this what you call doing everything? Surgery failed and you just want to brush it off? Let me tell you, it won't be that easy! If you don't compensate us millions today, we're not leaving!"
"That's right! Heartless hospital! Give me back my father!"
The hospital management was also alarmed. A vice president rushed over with several department heads. Seeing this chaotic scene surrounded by media, his face instantly turned extremely ugly.
"Dr. Lila," the vice president frowned, his tone stern, "you were the lead surgeon for this patient. Now that the family is so upset, suspend all your work and cooperate with the investigation."
These words were essentially publicly convicting Lila.
Her body swayed, all color draining from her face.
She looked around at her colleagues for help, but facing the surging media and difficult family members, no one dared to stand up at this moment.
Just then, her gaze found me through the crowd.
In that instant, she grabbed onto me like a last lifeline, urgent pleading bursting from her eyes.
"Sloane!"
I pushed through the crowd and walked to her side, shielding her behind me.
I glanced at the emotional family members and flashing cameras, finally settling my gaze on the vice president. My voice was calm but firm. "Before the matter is investigated clearly, suspending the lead surgeon doesn't follow protocol."
The vice president clearly hadn't expected me to openly challenge him. His face darkened.
I ignored him and turned to the man who was still shouting, asking calmly, "I'm a doctor at this hospital and Dr. Lila's colleague. May I see the patient's death report and pre-operative examination records?"
My composure formed a stark contrast to the surrounding chaos. The man was taken aback by my question.
Lila immediately handed me the medical file, her voice trembling with tears. "Sloane, I really didn't make any mistakes... The patient was already in critical condition when he arrived. I just..."
I patted her hand, signaling her to relax. I quickly flipped through the medical records, where every piece of data and indicator clearly documented the entire process from the patient's admission to surgery.
Seeing me reading carefully, the family members started making noise again.
"What are you looking at! He died on your operating table!"
"Don't try to shirk responsibility!"
I closed the file, looked up, and swept my gaze like a blade across the family members who were shouting the loudest. I spoke coldly. "I've finished reading the surgical records. Now, I need to examine the patient's body."
My request stunned everyone.
"He's already dead, and you still want to mess with my dad?" The lead man immediately objected.
"If you want to know the truth, let me examine him." I spoke each word deliberately, my tone brooking no argument. "If the examination proves it was our mistake, the hospital will absolutely not shirk responsibility. But if it wasn't..."
I looked at them, my eyes cold. "I hope all of you will also bear the consequences for your slander and defamation."
My presence intimidated them. After a brief hesitation, they finally agreed.