Chapter 67 I Have a Wife
The hospital was still busy as evening settled in. Patients came and went, the air filled with the muted shuffle of feet and the occasional murmur from behind closed doors.
"Next," Timothy called, eyes flicking to the computer screen as he began entering the patient's details. His brows drew together, a faint edge of impatience in his expression.
If he weren't reminding himself that he was here as a doctor, Yasmin suspected he might have told her off already.
"Dr. Robinson, my leg still hurts," she said, her tone tinged with both complaint and hope.
Yasmin looked young—barely twenty, by Timothy's guess—and she had the kind of boldness that came with youth, especially in matters of the heart. Her calf had been injured, requiring several stitches.
The nurse stepped forward with professional courtesy. "Madam, Dr. Robinson has already prescribed pain medication. You can collect it from the pharmacy. We still have other patients waiting."
Yasmin smiled, undeterred. "Just one last question, Dr. Robinson—do you have a girlfriend?"
Leaning back in his chair, Timothy's lips curved faintly beneath his mask. "I have a wife. Our child is six."
Yasmin's eyes glistened, her teeth catching her lower lip. "I'm sorry… but would you consider trading her for a younger, prettier woman?"
The nurse stared, momentarily speechless. Was Yasmin out of her mind?
Timothy chuckled quietly, tapping out a quick message on his phone.
Outside the clinic, Elizabeth read his text. She pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The moment she entered, Timothy's voice softened, warm as velvet. "Honey, you're here."
Elizabeth blinked, puzzled.
Yasmin turned, eyes widening as she took in the sight of Elizabeth—young, beautiful, poised.
Disbelief flickered across Yasmin's face. She had done her homework before daring to pursue Timothy, and all her sources had told her he wasn't married.
"Dr. Robinson… you really have a wife and child?"
The nurse stepped in again, ushering Yasmin toward the door. Her cheeks flushed, and she managed a shy retreat, leaning on her crutch as she left.
Elizabeth set a lunchbox on the desk, her gaze sweeping over Timothy with a faint, knowing smile. "I brought extra lunches. If your colleagues haven't eaten, you can give these to them."
Without waiting for his reply, she waved and turned to leave—there were still patients waiting outside.
She moved with more decisiveness than Yasmin had moments ago. At the doorway, she glanced back, her smile curling with mischief. "I'm going home to take care of the child."
Her expression suggested she was enjoying herself more than he was.
Timothy cleared his throat, crossing one long leg over the other. "Alright."
At Imperial Garden, Armando stripped off his shirt, tossing it into the laundry basket before stepping beneath the shower. Water streamed over his sharply cut features, tracing the hard lines of his jaw.
Elizabeth's voice echoed in his mind—calling him crazy. And then came the image he couldn't shake: her kissing Timothy in the car.
He dragged a hand down his face, droplets clinging to his skin. When he opened his eyes, the cool steel of his gaze was shadowed by something darker.
Showered and wrapped in a black robe, he stepped out into the bedroom.
Sherry looked up, her smile curving as her eyes lingered on the open expanse of his chest. "Armando, I recorded Sloane blowing bubbles just now. Come watch."
He bent over her phone, the icy edge in his features softening as he watched the video. When it ended, he straightened. "I'm going to the study. If you're tired, sleep."
Sherry had only just returned to Silverlight City today. As lovers, he thought, he shouldn't be sending her to bed alone. She lifted her foot, brushing it against his calf, her toes sliding upward.
"Armando, I'll be busy again in a couple of days," she murmured, the implication clear. Her toes nudged him again.
He tightened the belt of his robe. "You should sleep. The Johnson Group has urgent matters to handle."
Her eyes dimmed briefly, disappointment flickering before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight."
Sherry's smile returned, warm and lingering. "Don't work too late. I'll sleep now."
Maybe he really was too busy.
Armando retreated to the study, opened a drawer, and leaned against the desk as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He smoked rarely, but tonight the curling haze seemed to suit the cold weight in his eyes.
In the rehearsal studio, the door swung open. Della's heels clicked sharply against the floor as she crossed the room, her expression tight. She pulled out a chair and sat.
Sherry paused her practice, unscrewing her thermos to sip the throat-soothing juice inside. "What happened?"
Della's voice was cool. "Jessa's breaking her contract with the Starlight Group. She's signing with a newly formed agency."
Sherry's brows lifted. "What? Which agency would pay her penalty fee? The Starlight Group's contracts aren't cheap."
Jessa came from an ordinary background—there was no way she could afford the fee herself. That was precisely why the Starlight Group could keep her from releasing an album whenever they wished.
"They're called Quin Agency. No idea who's behind it."
Sherry frowned at the name but didn't dwell. "It's simple. Jessa wants to release an album? The Starlight Group just needs to offer her a little incentive.
"Quin Agency's new, no resources in the industry. Signing with them won't get her far. She'll realize which choice makes sense."
Sherry picked up the phone, calling a senior executive at the Starlight Group. Her voice was gentle. "Jessa has real musical talent. Give her time, and she'll soar."
Once, it had been Sherry's assistant Della who delivered the subtle orders to suppress Jessa's career. Now, Sherry herself was suggesting opportunity.
Ronan, the executive, didn't understand the sudden shift at first. But after asking around, he learned Quin Agency had come to handle Jessa's contract termination today.
He made the call. "Send someone to keep Jessa."
Offer her benefits now, deal with the rest later.
The PR manager, Liam, was tasked with persuading her. He opened the meeting room door, his smile polite. "Sorry to interrupt, I'm here to speak with Jessa."
Jessa and Daisy exchanged a glance. She hadn't even debuted yet—Liam's interest was unusual.
Jessa followed him to the next room. Daisy trailed after them, unwilling to let her friend go alone.
Liam didn't waste time. "Jessa, would you reconsider staying with the Starlight Group? Our department is already planning your debut campaign. You have real talent."
Jessa smiled faintly. "I'm sorry, but I've already agreed with Quin Agency."
She knew as long as Sherry wanted to suppress her, she'd never succeed here. Liam's assurances meant little.
He kept his composure, sliding a debut proposal across the table. "Look, this was prepared for you. The Starlight Group's a big company, rich in resources. We wouldn't hold you back."
"Quin Agency is small, new, with no industry connections."
He added, "The delay in your album release was for your own good. Do you really want to go head-to-head with Ms. Scott?"
Jessa flipped through the proposal—it was well-crafted, and Liam's tone was sincere. But she pushed it back toward him.
"I'm sorry, but I'd rather develop with Quin Agency. There are too many big stars here. I'm not strong enough to compete."
"Think carefully."
"Thank you. I have."
Frustration flickered in Liam's eyes. Jessa wasn't even a star yet, and she dared to refuse him.
He gathered the proposal and left.
Jessa and Daisy shared a smile.
Jessa paid the penalty fee to terminate her contract with the Starlight Group. By the end of the day, she had signed a ten-year deal with Quin Agency.
Daisy went with her to the company.
When Sherry got the call confirming Jessa's departure, she laughed softly, her tone edged with disdain. "Fine. I don't believe in Quin Agency's strength. Plenty of people have talent, but that doesn't guarantee fame. Strong backing is what matters."
Della nodded. "The road ahead is long. We shouldn't rush. Quin Agency's resources are limited."
Sherry's smile lingered.