Leon coughed lightly: "Timmy, don’t make your mommy wait next door too long. Let’s go see her!"
Leon, a grown-up, was lectured by his six-year-old son, and he felt embarrassed.
But in this matter, he acted impulsively, made the first mistake, and had no reason to justify himself. He could only quickly take the little boy away to end the topic.
As for the doctor he had strangled.
Leon frowned slightly. He had apologized and stated he would compensate for his ntal damage, yet so many issues?
If not for his son, he would call the dean and have Dr. Tate retire at ho.
The hospital security arrived, and everything was already settled here.
The dean was in the office when he heard about the incident downstairs, so he ca down. He just happened to see Leon coming out of the ergency room and bead with surprise, loudly saying, "President Kane."
Leon stopped in his tracks.
With a beaming smile, the dean boldly walked over, politely extending his hand: "President Kane is here, why didn’t you call in advance? If there’s anything you need, I can arrange it properly for you beforehand!"
Leon was holding Timmy Monroe’s hand with his right hand and extended his left hand. Seeing this, the dean changed hands with a smile, eagerly shaking Leon’s hand, but Leon only shook it briefly before withdrawing.
"This is my son, Timmy." Leon did not respond to the dean but first introduced the little boy beside him.
"Ah? The Kane family young master... Timmy, I know, I know..." The dean started to feel embarrassed himself, rembering the Kane family young master was called Ian Keane, not Timmy!
Then what’s going on with this young master Timmy?
Could it be... the dean seed to understand.
"Timmy is my younger son," Leon said what was on the dean’s mind.
"Hello, Uncle." Timmy Monroe said politely.
The dean was flattered: "Hello, hello, young master Timmy, did President Kane bring you here for a physical check-up?"
The dean was a shrewd fellow, adept at the art of speaking. Usually, when parents bring their children to the hospital, it’s for a check-up, not for treatnt, which sounds more comfortable.
Moreover, since the child was small, he would inform the dean, and Leon would tell him what the visit was for, allowing the dean to make imdiate arrangents.
Timmy Monroe shook his head, his eyes reddening imdiately: "Mommy had a car accident."
The dean was shocked—car accident? Mrs. Kane had a car accident?
This was no trivial matter.
The dean and Leon, along with Timmy, hurried to Ivana Monroe’s ergency room.
At this mont, the present doctors and nurses were completely stunned, especially Dr. Tate.
The dean’s flattering and enthusiastic attitude also indicated the imnse status of that man in Ravenswood; the dean called him "President Kane," so could he be the top business mogul... Leon?
Dr. Tate’s head felt dizzy, his legs weak, nearly swaying.
The doctor beside him steadied his shoulder: "Dr. Tate, are you okay? Let help you get a scan to check your health!"
Dr. Tate clutched his heavy heart, saying bitterly: "I seem to have offended a Ravenswood mogul, and I really regret why I spoke out earlier and said those words to him!"
The mogul hadn’t strangled him; the mogul had rely made a mistake, apologized, and intended to compensate him ntally.
If at that ti he had known the mogul’s identity, wouldn’t it have been better to gladly accept the compensation?
Dr. Tate wished he could take a regret pill to swallow down, to redo everything.
Leon saw Ivana Monroe in the ergency room. She was lying on a cold stretcher, eyes closed, her face pale. Although her forehead injury had been treated, seeing her now silent-looking appearance made his heart feel as if stabbed by a dagger, an uncontrollable pain spreading from his chest through his limbs and bones.
The dean urgently inquired about Ivana Monroe’s condition with the doctor beside him, knowing that Ivana had already undergone a head CT scan, yet the results hadn’t arrived. He scolded the doctor thoroughly, ordering him to run to the CT room, ensuring the mont the results were ready, they were delivered to him.
The dean busied himself arranging a high-grade ward for Ivana Monroe’s stay.
Leon seed not to hear the dean’s voice. He let go of Timmy Monroe’s small hand and crouched beside the stretcher, his slender fingers trembling as he grasped Ivana Monroe’s delicate hand.
Her hand was tender, warm.
Leon’s eyes welled with tears as he gripped her hand tightly, both palms intimately pressed against each other, to feel that she was still alive.
Timmy Monroe stood beside Leon, the young child also had reddened eyes, too preoccupied to glance at Leon’s expression—both the large and small individual’s attention entirely focused on Ivana Monroe.
The CT results ca out.
The dean briefly glanced over them and sighed in relief—mild concussion, and the result was shared with Leon.
"President Kane, the CT results are out. Mrs. Kane has a mild concussion, with no intracranial hemorrhage. Her blood pressure and heart rate are normal; a few days of hospital rest will have her back to normal."
~~
Kiki Jennings saw the call from the Santana driver and felt a rush of excitent, pressing the accept button with a lip uncontrollably curving upward: "How did it go? Did Ivana Monroe and her brat get knocked dead?"
The Santana driver said: "The taxi they were in, the cabbie was highly proficient. I slamd the accelerator toward them, yet still failed."
Kiki’s smile disappeared, her expression turning dark: "What? You failed? You failed and have the nerve to call ? You should go find another car and run them down... run Ivana Monroe and her little bastard over, then call again."
The Santana driver replied, troubled: "I can’t do this for you right now. My driver’s license was suspended today; it’ll take so ti to reacquire."
"Oh right, you should wire so money first. This traffic accident is all my fault, and I need money to deal with it."
For this traffic accident, Santana was a car he purchased cheaply from a friend—practically a soon-to-be junker, uninsured, pushed into action by Kiki to hit people. She promised him all expenses, a fortune for life enjoynt.
Kiki changed expression: "Didn’t hit them dead, and you still dare ask for money? I won’t give you money; find a way to settle your current situation. If you want money, people need to be dead first, then co ask ."
The Santana driver, in a panic: "Where would I get the money? If I had money, would I need to risk life-threatening tasks for you, Miss Belle? Let tell you, Ivana Monroe is severely injured from my hit in the hospital, needing a large sum for treatnt. If I don’t pay for dical and car repair costs, I’ll face jail—then don’t bla for revealing you to the traffic police. If I go to jail, we all go."
Belle is Kiki’s online na, and she t this Santana driver on the internet.
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