WIFE KICKED MILLIONAIRE MEDICAL GOD HUSBAND

Chapter Four

Elise sat behind her desk, fingers tapping against the glass surface, fury burning in her chest. News of Felix’s injuries had hardened into a cold knot of anger. Her brother’s bruised face and bloodied nose, which according to Clara and the guards was Lukas’s doing, felt like a personal betrayal.

By the windows, Margot, her sharp-tongued assistant, crossed her arms. “He’s unhinged,” she said. “Assaulting Felix in an alley? Lukas is a liability. You were right to cut him loose.”

Elise nodded, her jaw tight. “He’s gone too far,” she said, her tone low but venomous. “Felix is reckless, but Lukas… I never thought he’d stoop to this.” She picked up her phone, her fingers hovering over Lukas’s number. 

She dialed, her heartbeat sped up as the line rang. When Lukas answered, his voice was rough, weary. “Elise.”

“Explain yourself,” she snapped, her voice icy. “You attacked Felix, my brother. Why?”

Lukas let out a quick, sharp breath that crackled through the phone. “He provoked me, Elise. Him and Clara, they ambushed me, accused me of stealing your money. Felix smashed my grandfather’s watch. I lost it. I’m not proud of it, but—”

“You lost it?” Elise interrupted, her voice rising. “You broke his nose, Lukas! You think that’s justified? You think you can just lash out because you’re angry?” Her grip tightened on the phone, her knuckles whitening. “You’re not the man I thought you were.”

“And you’re blind,” Lukas shot back, his tone laced with defiance. “You believe Clara’s lies, Felix’s theatrics, without questioning them. You’ve chosen your family over the truth. Again.”

Elise’s breath caught, his words stinging like a slap. “This isn’t about them,” she said. “This is about you. Apologize to Felix in person, Lukas, or I’ll make sure you face legal consequences. I mean it.”

A bitter laugh echoed through the line. “An ultimatum? That’s your answer? I’m not groveling to Felix or anyone else. You want to play hardball, Elise? Go ahead. I’m done bending.” The call ended abruptly, the silence deafening.

Elise stared at the phone, her heart pounding. His defiance and refusal to give in sparked a new surge of anger. How dare he? She had offered him a way out, a clean break, and a generous settlement, but he had thrown it back in her face, first with the divorce and now with this. “He’s made his choice,” she said, tossing the phone onto the desk. “I’m done with him.”

Margot raised an eyebrow, her lips curling slightly. “Good. You don’t need distractions. The Laurent Group gala is tomorrow night. Sofia’s expecting you, and the merger talks could be worth billions. Focus on that, not some washed-up herbalist.”

Elise nodded, her resolve hardening. The gala, hosted by Sofia Laurent’s conglomerate, was a golden opportunity to solidify her empire’s dominance. Personal grudges could wait. “Get me the guest list and the latest financials,” she said, standing. “I want to be ready.” 

Across Rotterdam, the clean, white halls of Rotterdam General Hospital were full of urgent activity. Lukas Brandt stepped off the elevator, his boots echoing on the linoleum floor, he had no time for her threats now. Viktor Stahl’s call had given him a purpose and a chance to prove he was more than the “stain” Elise’s family believed him to be.

He followed a nurse to a private wing, where Viktor’s colleague, Pieter Dubois, lay in critical condition. The room was stark, filled with the hum of monitors and the scent of antiseptic. Pieter, a gaunt man in his sixties, lay pale against the white sheets, his breathing weak. Beside him stood a young woman, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun, her blue eyes filled with worry. This had to be Amelie, Pieter’s daughter, Viktor had mentioned. A group of doctors and nurses stood nearby, watching Lukas with doubtful looks as he walked in.

“You’re the herbalist?” Amelie asked, her voice laced with doubt. She crossed her arms, her posture defensive. “My father’s dying, and they send us a… plant expert?”

Lukas met her gaze, unfazed. “I’m here to help,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Viktor says it’s poison. I know compounds most doctors don’t. Let me see him.”

A doctor, a wiry man with thinning hair, scoffed. “We’ve run every test. Toxins, heavy metals, you name it. What can you possibly do that we haven’t?”

Lukas ignored the jab, approaching Pieter’s bedside. He checked the chart, noting the symptoms—rapid heart rate, organ stress, untraceable toxin. His years of studying rare plants and their effects clicked into place with patterns forming in his mind. But before he could speak, Amelie stepped closer, her eyes narrowing.

“What are your credentials?” she demanded. “Why should we trust you?”

Lukas paused. “Watch,” he said, gesturing for her wrist. Reluctantly, she extended it. He pressed two fingers to her pulse, seconds passed, the room silent except for the monitors’ beeps. “Your pulse is weak,” he said, his voice low. “You’ve got chronic fatigue, joint pain, probably in your knees and shoulders. You’ve been hiding it, haven’t you?”

Amelie’s eyes widened, her mouth parting slightly. “How… how did you know that?”

The doctor blinked, stepping closer. “You diagnosed that from her pulse?”