Chapter 760 The Face Behind the Mask

The officer’s words struck like a hammer, shattering the widow’s last defense.

Her body shook violently, her carefully painted face twisting. “Impossible… I pressed so hard, he–”

Realizing what she had just admitted, she snapped her mouth shut.

The officer’s sneer was sharp as a blade. “Funny. You’ve been telling everyone your husband was dead. Yet the surgery wasn’t even finished, no doctor had declared him deceased. Why were you so desperate to spread that lie?”

She stumbled back, her eyes unfocused, her lacquered nails scraping against the wall with a faint, grating sound.

The officer pressed on. “We also reviewed your finances. You’re drowning in gambling debts. Loan sharks have been threatening your safety. And Jeremy’s company? On the brink of collapse. If he were to die unexpectedly, that insurance payout would be your only lifeline. Isn’t that right?”

Silence gripped the hallway, broken only by the crowd’s uneasy breaths.

Then the widow lifted her head. The fragile façade fell away. Her face hardened, voice chillingly calm.

“You don’t know anything,” she whispered. “For twenty years, I suffered beside him. He promised me a good life. And what did I get? A company about to go under, creditors at my door. Why should I go down with him?”

A twisted smile curled her lips. “As for Wemble? That useless man–breathing was already a waste of air–”

She stopped too late. Everyone had heard.

The officer rose, pulling out a pair of handcuffs that glinted under the hospital lights. “You are under arrest for attempted murder and insurance fraud. You have the right to remain silent. But anything you say may be used in court.”

The sharp click of the cuffs rang loud in the corridor.

As they dragged her out, she turned, her eyes once tender now void of all warmth, brimming only with hate.

“He should’ve died. Five years ago, Wemble taught me the truth–men are only worth something dead.”

Just then, Yunice stepped out of her office. The faint spell of exhaustion had passed, her consciousness restored.

And the first thing she heard was that venomous sentence as the widow was led away.

She arched a brow and turned to Wyatt. Their eyes met, silence hanging a beat. Then Wyatt muttered quickly, “Honey, don’t listen to her. I’m worth more alive. Everything’s in your name anyway. I’m just your hired help–for you and our girl.”

The farce spread across the internet within minutes. Short clips shot by witnesses tore through the noise.

The insurance policy naming the widow as sole beneficiary, the sky-high payout, and the investigative reports pushed by certain media outlets struck like successive blows, smashing her mask of grief-stricken widowhood to pieces.

“Insurance murder” blazed across headlines, cleansing the mud that had been flung at Yunice.

Back in the department, her colleagues seethed.

“I knew it! Ms. Saunders would never make such a rookie mistake!” Young Dr. Wang slammed a fist on the desk.

The head nurse sighed, disgust curling her tone. “Vile woman. For money, she’d kill the man lying beside her. It’s people like that–parasites–that ruin the bond between doctor and patient. No wonder there’s no trust left.”

“Exactly! Now every step we take feels like walking on glass, as if we’re the ones to blame.”

Amid the angry chatter, Yunice entered. She rapped her knuckles against the doorframe, drawing every gaze.

“I can’t promise there won’t be mistakes in our hospital. But as long as I’m here, we will never sacrifice a doctor’s dignity just to protect our reputation. Do your jobs well. Leave the rest—defending our rights—to me.”

Her words sparked awe. Their eyes shone, some cupping their cheeks like schoolgirls. “Ms. Saunders, what’s your secret? You’re never afraid of anything. You must have powerful backing, right?”

Yunice smiled. “Of course I have connections.”

She never lied about it. Everyone knew ideals alone weren’t enough; methods and leverage mattered more. A black cat or a white cat, it didn’t matter–so long as it caught mice.

“Oh, right, Ms. Saunders,” someone piped up, “a cake was delivered for you last night. But you were in surgery, so we put it in the fridge.”