Divorced By My Wife, The System Made Me A Trillionaire!

Chapter 3

He paused mid-step. Frowned. Pulled it out. Glanced at the screen. His eyebrows shot up. He answered.

"Yes? ... What? ... Are you certain? ... I see."

He listened. Nodded slowly. His face went pale. Then paler.

"Understood. Immediately. Yes. Of course."

He slammed the phone down, froze in place for a moment, and then slowly turned to face the other way.

Walked back to Arthur.

Stopped.

Bowed.

It was a really bizarre scene - he just dropped down into this super deep bow, like a perfect ninety degrees, right there in the emergency ward where all the nurses and patients were rushing around.

Everything just came to a standstill as people stopped what they were doing and stared at him.

"I'm sorry, boss."

Patricia's jaw dropped. The younger nurse's gum fell out of her mouth and landed on the counter. Neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed.

Dr. Whitmore stood up, his face tense, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"I had no idea it was this bad," he said, his voice laced with concern. "We're going to get the surgery underway right away. I'll make sure our top team is on it - your mom is our number one priority now."

He took a deep breath, looking a bit on edge.

"Is there anything else I can get for you, anything that might make this easier?" He seemed genuinely worried, and his eyes locked onto yours, searching for any sign of what you might need. "We'll do everything we can to make sure your mom gets the best care possible," he added, his words tumbling out in a reassuring rush.

Arthur looked at him briefly, then his eyes darted to Patricia, and from there, they moved to the younger nurse, scanning each of their faces in a quick, fluid motion, taking in their expressions before finally coming to rest.

They both went white.

Patricia's hands began to tremble as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. " I'm sorry, sir... we had no idea..."

Arthur spoke in a hushed tone, his face a picture of calmness, without a hint of a sneer or any gloating, he just remained serene.

He just said, "Room 412. Now."

And walked past them.

When he spun back around, he noticed Patricia whispering something to the younger nurse, her voice barely audible, it was that quiet.

"Can you believe who that actually was? The owner themselves, I'm still in shock!"

Arthur didn't look back.

He had a mother to save.

The doors to the hospital burst open with a loud crash, making the glass shake violently.

Julian Thorne burst into the room, his usual calm demeanor nowhere to be found. His Cartier glasses sat slightly askew on his nose, and his gold chain bounced against his Tom Ford shirt as he walked.

His jaw was clenched, and his very presence commanded attention, as if daring anyone to speak or move.

"Where is he?" His voice cracked across the lobby like a whip. " Where's Dr. Whitmore?"

The room fell silent as Patricia rose from her seat, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her, her movements slow and deliberate.

"Mr. Thorne, I—"

Julian was getting really frustrated. His father was waiting for him in the east wing, and he was a very important person, a VIP.

But despite this, Julian's father had been waiting for two whole hours, and not a single doctor was available to see him.

Julian slammed his hand down on the counter, making a loud noise.

"Two hours!" he exclaimed. "And every single doctor in this hospital is busy somewhere else. I'm going to ask one more time: where are they?"

He looked around, expecting someone to give him an answer, but the room was quiet.

The younger nurse swallowed. " Sir, Dr. Whitmore is currently attending to another VIP patient. A priority case. We can't—"

Julian's laughter cut through the air, harsh and unkind.

"What, another big shot?" he sneered. "Who could possibly be more important than my dad in this town? Some high-ranking official? A politician? Who's supposed to be so much bigger than him?"

The nurses exchanged a glance. Neither answered.

Julian's eyes narrowed. " What's his name?"

Silence.

"I said what's his name?"

Just as it seemed like nobody was going to say anything, the elevator doors at the far end of the hall suddenly opened.

Arthur stepped out.

He was still damp. Still wearing the cheap jacket. Still carrying the plastic bag. But something was different. His shoulders were back. His chin was up. His eyes were calm.

Julian spotted him instantly.

And laughed.

Julian's eyes sparkled with amusement as he sauntered towards Arthur, his arms stretched out wide in a dramatic gesture.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The great beggar himself, still lingering around like a bad smell."

He chuckled to himself, clearly entertained by Arthur's presence. As he walked, his hands remained casually tucked into his pockets, giving off an air of nonchalance.

"What's the plan, Arthur? Are you here to grovel some more? Maybe shed a few tears to tug at the nurses' heartstrings?" Julian's voice took on a mocking tone, his words laced with venom.

He leaned in closer, his face inches from Arthur's, and whispered, "Did you come to plead for your mother's life? Because, let's be honest, that's all you're really good for - begging."

Julian's grin grew wider, his eyes glinting with malice, as he waited for Arthur's response.

Arthur said nothing.

Julian tilted his head. Smirked wider.

“I had dinner with your wife, Clara, last night. And let me tell you, she's a real treat. I mean, the way she laughed at all my jokes and poured my wine, it was like we were meant to be. She looked at me with this spark in her eyes, you know, the kind of look that says she's really into you. But then I started thinking, she never really looked at you like that, did she? I mean, not really. It's like she was just going through the motions with you, but with me, it was different. She was sweet, man, really sweet. And I have to say, it felt pretty good to have her attention all to myself. “

He licked his lips, savoring the moment, and paused for a beat, letting the words sink in.

Arthur's jaw tightened. But he didn't speak.

As Julian moved in, his face was just inches from Arthur's, and the smell of wine wafted up from his lips, filling the air between them.

"You lost, buddy. You lost the wife. You lost the house. You lost the dignity. And right now, you can't even afford to keep your mother on life support. So do yourself a favor. Turn around. Walk out. And don't come back."

The elevator dinged again.

Dr. Whitmore stepped out, wiping his hands on a towel. He looked exhausted. Satisfied. He spotted Julian and his expression shifted. Guarded.

Julian spun toward him.

"Where were you?" Julian demanded, his eyes fixed accusingly on the doctor. "You just left my father, all alone, lying in a hospital bed, for two whole hours. Who was so much more important that you had to abandon him like that?"

Dr. Whitmore straightened. " Mr. Thorne, I was performing an emergency surgery on a patient in Room 412. Eleanor Vance. The procedure was critical and time-sensitive—"

Julian's face went red.

"Eleanor Vance?" He said the name like it tasted rotten. " You left my father — a board member of this hospital — to operate on her?A worthless, broke old woman whose son mops floors for a living?"

He stepped forward, jabbing his finger toward Arthur. " You prioritized that man's mother over my father?"

Dr. Whitmore opened his mouth.

Arthur spoke first.

"Leave."

Julian blinked. Then laughed. " Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Arthur's voice didn't rise. " Leave. Now."

Julian's face suddenly lost its smugness, his eyes turning icy in an instant. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his movements swift and deliberate.

"Security," he barked into the phone. "We need you in the front lobby, now. I've got a situation here - some guy is causing trouble and bothering the patients. I want him thrown out of the building, ASAP."

Two large security guards came running up, their broad shoulders evident even under their uniforms.

They glanced first at Julian, then shifted their attention to Arthur, their eyes narrowing slightly as they took in the scene.

They didn't move.

Julian frowned. " I said remove him."

The guards didn't budge. They looked at Arthur. Waiting.

Julian's face contorted in frustration. "Can't you hear me?" he exclaimed, his voice rising. "I just said—"

Arthur stepped forward. Slowly. He reached out and patted Julian on the cheek gently.

Julian froze.

Arthur smiled.

He then shifted his attention to the guards, giving a slight nod in Julian's direction.

"Remove him."

The taller guard nodded. " Yes, boss."

Boss?