Chapter 725 The Dogs

Wyatt followed her at an easy pace, jacket draped over one arm. “If you’re not feeling well, stop wandering around. I’ll have the clothes delivered to your place. I know all your sizes better than the models do.”

“I don’t need the trouble,” Yunice said without even glancing back.

As they stepped off the elevator, Gill came rushing over, pale and sweaty. She grabbed Yunice’s arm in a panic. “You scared me to death! I thought you’d slipped away without a word again.”

Yunice said she wanted to go home, so Gill didn’t insist on shopping any longer.

From the underground garage, as the elevator doors slid open, Gill froze.

Her eyes locked ahead.

Yunice followed her line of sight and saw a man.

Oscar. Gray windbreaker, cropped hair, blank face.

He brushed past them without so much as a flicker of recognition, as though she were a stranger.

He went into the elevator. Yunice stepped out.

The doors closed behind them.

Yunice didn’t look back. “Let’s go.”

Gill clutched her arm tighter. “Miss, wasn’t that—”

“It doesn’t matter who he is,” Yunice cut in. “What matters is staying alive.”

Some wrongs could never be undone. Silence itself was a choice. And Oscar was a coward.

“Clear out all these bamboo roots–every last bit. If they sprout again next year, they’ll be disgusting.”

In the Saunders family garden, Gill barked orders to the workers.

The bamboo had been planted by Lily and Elsie.

Back then, they’d ripped out Will’s rose seedlings the same way–root and stem, leaving nothing behind.

Now the wheel had turned.

Yunice, hands folded, watched Gill fuming with arms akimbo. “People did wrong, not the plants. Why take it out on them?”

“Miss, weren’t you the one who treasured this rose seedling?” Gill pointed. “If I don’t clear the bamboo, won’t it steal its nutrients?”

The tiny rose Yunice and Wyatt had found together sat behind a little woven fence, trembling in the breeze like a fragile fist-sized sprout. Cute. But it wouldn’t bloom for at least two years.

Gill trotted back to Yunice. “Miss, you renovated Saunders Hospital. Are you planning to run it yourself? What about Northpoint Hospital, the one Mr. Wyatt gave you?”

“I won’t have to run it. There will be people to manage it. A big hospital breeds politics, endless games. I don’t have the patience. My small hospital suits me better.”

“But Saunders Hospital already went under. Without veteran doctors, how will patients trust it?”

One tree alone couldn’t make a forest. A clinic was one thing, a hospital another.

Yunice answered, “I’ve already recalled the senior doctors my father once hired, the ones Owen drove away.”

Gill frowned. “But Owen ruined their reputations. People call them quacks who kill patients. Won’t that disgust the public even more?”

“Before Saunders Hospital reopens, I’ll have Victor and Quinton release articles to clear their names. Pair that with Owen’s confession. Once the media spins it, public opinion will swing. Instead of resenting them, people will sympathize, and Saunders Hospital will ride the wave.”

Gill let out a long ‘oh,’ then muttered, “So you’ve planned it all. Nothing else troubling you?”

Yunice thought a moment. “No, nothing.”

Gill looked almost disappointed. If there were no more problems, then Wyatt had no place.

The phone on the table buzzed.

Wyatt.

His name scrolled across the screen. Yunice picked up without hesitation. “Say what you want quickly, I’m busy.”

Wyatt’s voice was flat. “Paul won’t talk, no matter what we do. Got a trick?”

Yunice chuckled. “So, what can a monster like you do?”

Wyatt hissed. “Watch your tongue. Are you helping with Paul or not? If not, I’ll unleash the dogs.”

“Dogs?” Yunice blinked. Through the line she heard panting, harsh and animal.

Wyatt’s tone was almost casual. “I locked Paul and Nora up with over a dozen hunting dogs. Haven’t fed the dogs for three, four days. When I open the cages, guess what happens?”