Chapter 552 Internal Strife
"I heard you guys have been slacking off lately," Kieran said, lounging on the couch and casually petting his golden retriever. "Busy with infighting?"
Wanda tried to stay calm. "Kieran, there's been a misunderstanding. I was just..."
A loud slap cut her off. Kieran was suddenly standing in front of her, moving with astonishing speed.
"I put you in the hospital to get close to George, not to bicker among yourselves," he said, his voice still carrying a chillingly pleasant tone.
The golden retriever started barking furiously. Kieran gently patted its head. "Quiet, Sunny." The barking stopped immediately.
"If you all enjoy playing with fire so much..." Kieran pulled a small silver lighter from his pocket. "Let's see how you handle the real thing."
He flicked the lighter, and the flame danced in front of Wanda and Phoenix. They recoiled in fear, but black-clad men held them firmly by the shoulders.
"This is just a warning," Kieran said, snapping the lighter shut with a bright smile. "Next time, I'll let Sunny play with you. He's been a bit hungry lately."
The golden retriever bared its sharp teeth, looking nothing like a typical pet.
Back at her apartment, Wanda threw her bag to the floor in a fit of rage. Her cheek still stung, but what infuriated her more was that Phoenix was still alive.
"That bitch! She must have ratted me out to Kieran!" she snarled, dialing a number. "Find out who Phoenix has been in contact with recently."
After hanging up, Wanda walked to the mirror, staring at her swollen cheek with a vengeful glint in her eyes. "If Kieran won't allow open conflict, then I'll play dirty."
She opened a drawer and took out a small bottle of clear liquid, a cold smile curling her lips. "Phoenix, you think you're safe just because you dodged a bullet?"
The next morning, Phoenix limped into the hospital, her wrist still bruised from the previous night's struggle.
As the elevator doors opened, she came face to face with Wanda. The air seemed to freeze as their eyes met.
"Good morning, Ms. Lewis," Wanda said sweetly, as if nothing had happened the night before. "You look awful. Bad dreams?"
Phoenix clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay calm. "Thanks for your concern, Dr. Salazar. I'm fine."
Wanda leaned in close, whispering so only Phoenix could hear. "Next time, no one will save you."
The elevator reached their floor, and Wanda walked out gracefully, leaving Phoenix trembling in place.
Across town in a café, Kieran was leisurely feeding his golden retriever cake. A black-clad man approached and whispered something in his ear.
"Really? Wanda's still not giving up?" Kieran raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on his face. "How amusing."
He scratched Sunny's chin gently. "Looks like our game is about to get more interesting. Don't you think, sweetheart?"
The golden retriever licked his hand obediently, but Kieran's smile vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating look. "Tell him he can start the plan. As for those two foolish women, let them tear each other apart. The more vicious, the better."
He stood up, leading the dog towards the door. The sunlight hit his youthful face, making him look like a cheerful college student. Only the golden retriever, baring its fangs at a passing waiter, hinted at something more sinister.
Kieran chuckled lightly, his voice as carefree as a child's. "Sunny, you're being naughty again."
In the VIP room of Lakeside Haven Hospital, Emma leaned against the headboard, staring blankly at the sycamore trees outside. Since Michael had promised to give her time to think, she hadn't seen him again. She absentmindedly touched her left ring finger, where a wedding band had once been.
"Ms. Stuart, it's time to change your dressing." The new head nurse entered quietly, gently changing the bandage on Emma's arm.
Emma noticed the nurse's badge read "International Medical Center Specialist." She frowned slightly. "Where's Cordelia?"
"Cordelia was reassigned to another department," the head nurse said, adjusting the IV drip with practiced ease. "From now on, our team will be taking care of you. Your nutritionist and physical therapist have also been replaced with international experts."
Emma lowered her eyes, her long lashes casting shadows on her face. She knew exactly who was behind this.
At 2 a.m., the automatic door to her room slid open silently. A tall figure stood in the doorway, his shadow stretching long in the moonlight.
Michael walked quietly to the bedside, his eyes hungrily tracing Emma's sleeping face. She had lost a lot of weight, her once full cheeks now hollow, even frowning in her sleep.
He reached out to smooth the lines on her forehead but stopped just before touching her. His long fingers curled back, and he withdrew his hand.
"Emma," Michael whispered her name, his voice barely more than a sigh.
The heart monitor by the bed beeped softly, and Michael stepped back into the shadows. Emma turned in her sleep but did not wake.
He stood there for an hour, watching her breathe steadily, before slipping away unnoticed. The hallway security cameras had mysteriously stopped working during his visit.
"Mr. Russell, here are today's test results." The hospital director handed George a stack of files. "All indicators are improving, but Ms. Stuart's psychological assessment..."
George flipped through the report, his knuckles whitening at the diagnosis of "post-traumatic stress disorder." He closed the file, his voice low. "Replace the psychologist with Williams from Cambridge."
"But Williams is booked until next year."
"Tomorrow," George interrupted, his gaze sharp as a blade. "I want him here tomorrow."
The director wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Yes, I'll arrange it immediately."
Leaving the director's office, George headed in another direction. The elevator took him to the third basement level, a restricted area of the hospital. At a heavy blast door, a guard handed him a silver mask.
"Have the surveillance records been handled?"
"Per your instructions, all records have been deleted."
Wearing the mask, George entered the lab, where a dozen experts stood at attention. A large screen on the wall displayed an analysis of Emma's brain scans.
"What's the progress on the antidote for the memory blocker?"
The lead scientist nervously adjusted his glasses. "We've completed the third phase of testing, but the side effects..."
"There will be no side effects," George's voice was icy. "I won't allow her body to suffer any more harm."
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