The Cold Surgeon's Contract Bride novel Chapter 168

Being suddenly dragged into the crossfire caught me off guard. Connecting her earlier remarks about medical ethics, I nodded carefully. "You make a fair point, Vivian. But The Medical Board is already investigating. I think we should wait for their verdict."

"There's no time," Vivian snapped impatiently. She jabbed a manicured finger at the Land Transfer Agreement on the table. "The Thornes already sent someone to deliver an ultimatum to Mr. Sterling. If we don't give them a satisfactory answer by tomorrow, they’re going straight to the media. You know how the press in Port Capital operates. Throw enough cash at them, and they'll publish any garbage you want. The outlets tied to the Thornes are ruthless. Who knows what kind of filthy rumors they'll manufacture?"

It all clicked into place. The Thorne Family just wanted a lucrative business deal with the Sterlings. Beatrice’s death was merely the ammunition. Whether it was actually medical malpractice didn't matter in the slightest. What mattered was that the Thornes were weaponizing the tragedy to extort the Sterling empire.

The Medical Board’s investigation could take anywhere from a few days to half a month. The Thornes weren't going to give Ferris that kind of time. I had seen firsthand how fast public outrage could destroy a life during the incident where my father was stabbed three years ago, let alone a smear campaign orchestrated by a billionaire family.

The situation was incredibly dangerous.

"I'll figure out another way," Ferris replied, remaining as composed as ever. "There’s no need to rush into this."

Even though Ferris and I were on the brink of divorce, I knew that in a marriage, you sink or swim together. After taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I spoke up. "There might be one other option."

The room went dead silent, and all eyes locked onto me again. I remembered the tear-soaked devotion in Terence’s eyes as he stared at the operating room doors. "I want to go speak with Terence."

I was gambling. I was gambling that a man who treated his wife like glass wouldn't allow her tragic death to be turned into a cheap corporate bargaining chip. I gambled that his love for Beatrice was real.

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