Chapter 236
Gemma's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Her mind went completely blank. "You… what did you say? Lucinda? This nursing home—the most prestigious in all of Starlight City, so exclusive that countless elites can't even get in no matter how hard they try—the owner is Lucinda?"
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Preston also lost it. He grabbed the iron gate desperately, screaming hysterically. "She's just some country bumpkin! Where would she get that kind of money? You must have the wrong person!"
"Insolent!" Martin's face darkened completely. He barked sharply, "Our boss is a figure of the utmost prestige. How dare you slander her so casually? This nursing home has been Ms. Wipere's private property from the very beginning!"
Preston's legs gave out. He slumped against the iron gate.
The mysterious tycoon… was actually Lucinda—the girl they'd treated like a servant, beaten and berated at every turn?
"There's one more thing." Martin spoke again, his tone still measured. "Mrs. Wipere, haven't you always been curious about those astronomically expensive life-saving medications you take every three months—the ones even top-tier hospitals can't prescribe? Who formulated them?"
"Let me tell you the truth. The true master behind this nursing home is the legend of the medical world—the Medicine King, Dr. Sinclair!"
"And Dr. Sinclair is Ms. Wipere!"
Gemma's brain completely short-circuited. A deafening ringing filled her ears.
The Medicine King, Dr. Sinclair…
The miraculous healer who could bring the dead back to life, whose single pill was worth a fortune…
Was Lucinda?
Then all this time, the life-saving medications she'd been taking for her chronic illness…
Had all been personally formulated by Lucinda?
"No… this isn't real… this can't be real…" Gemma collapsed onto the cold ground, her face deathly pale without a trace of color.
My God.
What had they missed?
The two of them sat slumped on the ground, each looking worse than the other.
Gemma gritted her teeth, her eyes full of terror. Then, as another thought struck her, terror turned to deep resentment. "That Lucinda! She knows everything, has everything—yet she lived in our house for twenty years and never said a word!"
Her voice began to tremble. "She didn't say anything when we yelled at her. She didn't say anything when Allegra bullied her. She didn't say anything even when we kicked her out. She just kept us in the dark like fools! Watching us jump around like clowns?"
Preston's face was equally grim. He said nothing.
The more Gemma thought about it, the angrier she became. Her voice grew louder. "Those medications she made—one pill could support an ordinary person for a lifetime. She gave them to me without a word. I thought I was just lucky! I thought heaven was smiling on me! But it turns out? It was her charity! She watched me grovel with gratitude like an idiot, probably laughing at me the whole time!"
Countless emotions wove into an airtight net, strangling her throat.
She hated it!
No. She couldn't accept this. She had to think of another way.
She absolutely could not admit defeat like this!
At that thought, inspiration struck. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed straight onto the ground.
"Gemma! Gemma! Don't scare me!" Preston immediately saw through Gemma's plan. He clumsily caught her and looked up, shouting toward Martin inside the gate. "Open the door! My wife fainted from rage! Let us in—take her to a room for treatment! If something happens to her, can you handle the consequences?!"
Preston shouted himself hoarse, sweat pouring down his face.
He was calculating shrewdly. If they could use the excuse of needing medical treatment to worm their way into the nursing home and see Cleo, there'd still be a chance to turn things around!
But Martin, standing inside the iron gate, merely looked down at them with an expression devoid of emotion.
Even the senior staff and bodyguards accompanying him wore nothing but disgust and indifference.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Wipere." Martin's voice was ice-cold. "This is a private nursing home for recuperation. We're not a public emergency hospital."
"You—!" Preston choked, his eyes turning red.
"If Mrs. Wipere's condition is truly critical…" Martin raised his hand slightly and pointed toward the guard station. "Out of humanitarian concern, we can call an ambulance for you. However, no matter what happens tonight, you will absolutely not be permitted to step through this gate. We cannot have you contaminating the premises and disturbing the distinguished guests resting inside."
Every word was perfectly justified, yet each one landed like a resounding slap across Preston's face.
Martin's eyes then shifted downward, locking onto Gemma's "unconscious" face.
He raised an eyebrow. "However—"
Martin smirked coldly, his voice dripping with disdain. "I'd say Mrs. Wipere's fainting act isn't very convincing. Probably not worth wasting public medical resources on an ambulance."
He turned to the bodyguards behind him and ordered coldly, "Go inside and bring out a basin of cold water. Pour it right over her head. I guarantee she'll wake up in one second."
"Yes, sir!" The bodyguard's eyes lit up. He turned as if to fetch the water.
"Wait, wait! No need!" Before the words even finished, Gemma—who'd been "on death's door" in Preston's arms—sprang up from the ground like she'd been electrocuted.
Her movements were so agile she didn't look remotely like someone who was ill.
Gemma's face was ghastly.
She frantically dusted off her clothes, eyes darting around, forcing herself to save face by pretending she'd just regained consciousness. "I… I was just dizzy… I'm much better now… no need for water…"
The scene became unbearably awkward.
Martin and the bodyguards stared coldly at her pathetic performance, as if watching a clown on stage.
Meeting those contemptuous gazes, Gemma wished she could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.
She'd lived a life of dignity—when had she ever been humiliated so blatantly?
"Disgraceful!" Preston trembled with rage beside her, muttering curses under his breath.
Gemma ground her teeth to dust. Realizing her ploy had completely backfired, she clenched her fists and reluctantly abandoned the fainting act.
"What are you waiting for?" Martin waved his hand dismissively, as if even looking at them dirtied his eyes. "Get these scheming people out of here! Don't let them embarrass themselves further and taint our nursing home's grounds!"
"Get out! Move it!" Several guards immediately threw open the gate and rushed out, roughly shoving Preston and Gemma.
"Don't touch me! We'll leave on our own!" Preston shouted angrily, but he was no match for the bodyguards' strength.
Gemma wailed and flailed. In the chaos, she even lost one of her high heels. She was forcibly driven onto the street in complete disarray.
Behind them, the wrought-iron gate slammed shut with a resounding clang.