CHAPTER 32
Author: Yaseen works
last update2025-04-29 15:12:48

Chairman Hargrove, still kneeling, straightened slowly and turned toward the stunned crowd. His voice, though still raspy from illness, rang with undeniable authority.

"Everyone. Leave. Now."

There was no room for negotiation in his tone.

The doctors who moments ago sneered at Yemin Ravollor scurried out of the room, heads bowed and faces red. Some of them stumbled in their haste, almost tripping over each other to get away. The guards hesitated, exchanging nervous glances, but at a sharp look from Marcus Chen, they too turned and filed out.

Faye Langford lingered just outside the doorway, heart hammering in her chest as she peered in through the half-closed doors.

Inside, only three men remained: Chairman Hargrove, Alexander Hargrove, and Yemin.

The room felt suffocatingly tense.

Alexander, pale and trembling, finally found his voice.

"Father," he blurted, disbelief dripping from his words, "Why... why are you begging a common doctor?!"

He sneered, trying to reclaim some of his lost pride.

"He should be thanking us for giving him a chance to show off whatever back-alley skills he learned!"

The words hung in the air like a bad stench.

Chairman Hargrove's face darkened.

Without warning, he swung his arm, delivering a brutal slap across Alexander’s face. The crack echoed loudly, followed almost immediately by a second slap to the other cheek, leaving matching red handprints.

Alexander staggered back, clutching his burning face in shock.

"You ignorant fool!" Chairman Hargrove barked, his voice gaining strength.

"You dare insult the man who saved my life — again?!"

Alexander, too stunned to speak, stared wide-eyed as his father — the great, invincible tycoon — once more knelt before Yemin.

"Please," the old man said, voice heavy with sincere regret. "Forgive my son. He is young. Foolish. He does not know the mountain he has dared to kick."

Alexander’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air.

What the hell was happening? Why was his father groveling before this... this nobody?

Chairman Hargrove seemed on the verge of revealing the truth, but Yemin raised a casual hand, stopping him with a simple gesture.

"It’s fine," Yemin said, his voice low but filled with unshakable authority.

"There’s no need."

The old man bowed his head lower, accepting Yemin’s judgment.

Faye, watching from the shadows, felt a shiver run down her spine.

Who is he, really?

Standing over them, Yemin shifted slightly, his gaze moving to the old man’s lined, grateful face.

"Listen carefully," Yemin said, his voice colder now, slicing through the air.

"You were poisoned."

Chairman Hargrove tensed.

"Not a relapse. Not fate. Someone wanted you dead — and they injected you with a rare toxin directly into your bloodstream."

Alexander's face drained of all color.

"P-Poisoned?!" he stammered.

"Yes," Yemin confirmed bluntly.

"And if you don't find who did it, they'll try again. Next time, maybe even I won't be able to save you."

Chairman Hargrove nodded grimly, his fists clenching.

"I swear, I will find the traitor and destroy them."

His voice was a growl, the old strength returning to it.

"Good," Yemin said simply.

The room fell into a heavy silence, only broken when Chairman Hargrove raised his head and asked, almost timidly,

"Is there anything I can offer you, sir? Anything you want, it's yours."

Alexander gaped at his father — sir?!

Yemin’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk.

"No need," he said easily.

"I’m not here for favors."

Behind them, a groan echoed from the floor.

Everyone turned.

The bitten doctor, his face sweaty and pale, was regaining consciousness. He blinked blearily at the scene before him — Chairman Hargrove kneeling before the man he had mocked, the guards and doctors gone.

He let out a weak, disbelieving laugh.

"I'm... hallucinating," he whispered, slumping back in confusion.

Yemin spared him barely a glance.

"You’re lucky," he said dryly.

"Another few minutes, and you’d have been beyond saving too."

Chairman Hargrove helped the man to his feet, but his attention was fully on Yemin.

After a few more minutes of exchanging quiet words, Yemin turned on his heel and left without fanfare.

Faye, still waiting nervously in the grand marble lobby, jumped when she saw him approaching.

His shirt was rumpled, his cheek still faintly red from Alexander's earlier slap, but he moved with the same effortless confidence — as if he hadn't just endured the worst kind of humiliation and vindicated himself in front of an entire house of elites.

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