Chapter 17 Huge Trouble #2
Then his voice dropped into command again. “Keep an eye on Esther. If she lied about this, she could be lying about more things. I need to know everything.”
“Yes, sir.” Xander nodded.
***
Krystal stepped out of Damion’s office and walked briskly down the corridor.
She was eager to get home. It had only been a few days since she started working for Damion, but she had already made real progress with several patients.
Still, with Esther’s truth finally exposed, there was no longer any reason for her to stay.
The job had served its purpose. Now, she just needed to find the right moment to tell Damion she was quitting.
Just as she neared the main lobby, a loud voice erupted from nearby.
“My head’s gonna explode! What kind of shitty hospital is this?! Get me a doctor, now!”
A man’s voice echoed, drawing everyone's attention.
Krystal followed the sound. Behind the reception desk, staff exchanged anxious glances. A woman in the corner was already calling security.
Krystal quickened her pace toward the commotion.
The moment the man spotted her, he zeroed in like a predator catching sight of prey.
“You’re a doctor, right? You’re a doctor—help me! My head’s about to split open!” he shouted as he staggered toward her, frantic and wild-eyed.
He stormed toward her, voice rising, words tripping over themselves.
‘How’d he know?’ Krystal thought, confused. She wasn’t even wearing a doctor’s coat or a stethoscope.
Krystal took a step back, raising her hands.
“Sir, you need to calm down. The doctors are right there—they’ll help you in a minute. Look, they’re coming—”
Before she could finish, the man lunged forward.
“How dare you push me?!” he screamed, slamming his hands into her shoulders and knocking her to the floor.
As she scrambled to get up. In a blink, he grabbed her hand and forced it around the handle of a knife he had pulled from his jacket—then plunged it into his side.
A second later, he collapsed to the floor screaming, “Help! Help! She stabbed me! This woman stabbed me!”
Krystal’s eyes widened in horror. She stared at him—then at the wound.
He was smirking. Holding the wound like a performance.
But Krystal’s eyes locked onto the injury.
He had nicked an artery.
He was still playing the victim, clutching at the gash and looking smug, thinking it was just a scratch.
He had no idea what he’d done.
“You’re bleeding out,” she said, rushing to his side. “You need help right now—”
“Stay away from me!” he shrieked, crawling backward. “She stabbed me! Arrest her! She—”
“You hit an artery, you idiot!” she yelled, losing patience. “If you don’t let me help, you’ll bleed out in minutes!”
He shoved at her again. “Don’t make this a big deal! I’m fine—”
Then his face went pale. He staggered. Dropped.
Convulsions started.
Krystal dropped to her knees beside him. She ripped open his shirt and immediately located the pulsing wound. Blood was everywhere.
“Someone get me a stitching kit! Now!” she screamed, snapping her head up.
The young doctors who had just arrived—probably only in their first year—flinched.
One of them faltered.
“Take your hand out! It’s dangerous! What are you doing?!” he yelled in panic.
Krystal glared at him, furious.
“What are you? A fetus? Get a grown-up to treat him. Now. Go, right this instant.” She snatched the medical box from his trembling hands and snapped, “And if you can’t help, get out of my way!”
"Oh my God, are you mad?!"
The young doctors, clearly still in training, were freaking out—staring between the bleeding man and Krystal.
Ignoring their panic, Krystal grabbed the stitching kit. Her fingers moved fast and steady. She clamped the wound and gave it a quick stitch, just enough to hold until help arrived to take him to the emergency room.
The emergency team finally snapped into action. The other doctors rushed in and transferred the man to a stretcher. Within seconds, he was wheeled away.
The incident had already caused a stir. Word spread fast. Police sirens blared outside as chaos unfolded in Bristen Hospital.
***
“Mr. Moretti! Mrs. Moretti is in huge trouble!”
Xander burst into Lorenzo’s office, nearly out of breath.
Lorenzo’s grip on his pen tightened as he looked up, a sharp frown creasing his brow. “What are you talking about?”
Xander reached the desk, trying to catch his breath. “There was an incident at the hospital. A man went wild. He lunged at Mrs. Moretti. There was a scuffle, and he ended up stabbed.”
Lorenzo shot to his feet, heart pounding. “Is Krystal hurt?” His voice cracked from the strain, panic lacing every word.
“She’s fine,” Xander replied quickly, and Lorenzo exhaled hard.
Lorenzo let out a breath.
“But…” Xander hesitated, “The man blamed her for stabbing him. And she... she stuck her finger in his wound to stop the bleeding, then stitched him up before the police arrived. Now people are accusing her of acting on her own—performing a medical procedure without a license.”
Lorenzo’s fury flared. “Why the hell is she being blamed? That’s not on her!”
He slammed a hand on the desk and growled, “That damn boyfriend of hers—he’s the owner there, isn’t he? Why did he even put her in that position if she doesn’t have medical qualifications? He should be the one taking responsibility. She was just trying to help!”
He stormed out from behind the desk, barking orders. “Block the news. I don’t want a single headline or her picture out there. Shut down the press.”
“But sir… the funds—”
“Take the money from the company account. There should be a few million in there. Use it all if you have to. I don’t care how much it costs—just keep her name out of this mess.”
Xander blinked in disbelief. “Sir? That’s nearly a billion. All of it?”
Lorenzo stared him down coldly. “If money can fix it, then it’s not a problem. Spend every last damn cent to protect her.”
***
“I want to press charges! I want her in jail right now!”
The injured man yelled from his hospital bed, his face pale, voice trembling with rage. The emergency surgery had just ended. His side was stitched up, but he was still fuming.
Two officers stood beside the bed, with Krystal and Damion present.
“That was an attempted murder!” the man bellowed. “I want her in jail!”
“I have proof I didn’t touch you,” Krystal said calmly.
He blinked, startled. “W-what proof? You did it! Everyone saw you!”
“CCTV footage,” Damion cut in, eyes cold.
“Bullshit! I know those cameras weren’t working. I made sure—I mean—this hospital’s a mess. Everyone knows the CCTV’s down!”
The man’s voice cracked as panic crept into his words. He’d made sure to disable the cameras himself.
Without a word, Damion pulled out his phone and handed it to one of the officers. A shaky but clear phone video played—someone had captured the whole thing. The footage showed the man pulling a knife from his pocket, grabbing Krystal’s hands, and stabbing himself.
The color drained from the man’s face.
He tried to leap off the bed, but pain shot through him, and he collapsed with a scream. Staff rushed to lift him back onto the bed.
“It was a mistake,” he pleaded. “Please—I lost my mind for a second. I didn’t mean to do it!”
Krystal stared down at him coldly. “Tell us why you did it, or who sent you, and your sentence might be lighter.”
He broke almost instantly. “Someone called me… offered me five hundred thousand dollars. I already got half of it—I can show you the transaction.”
The police began filing charges immediately.
Damion and Krystal walked out of the room side by side.
“Any idea who’d want to frame you?” Damion asked quietly.
Krystal shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Before he could speak again, Damion’s gaze flicked past her—toward the hallway. His lips twitched into a knowing smile. “I’ll see you later.”
Surprised, she watched him go, and when she turned back, Lorenzo was standing right in front of her.