The Fallen Son-in-law: Rise To Power

chapter 16

Chapter 16

Elvira pulled up in front of Dixon Hospital in the late afternoon. The area was a constant bustle—patients and their relatives crowded around the hospital's metal gates, the murmuring of helpless people in ambulances, nurses rushing through the lobby. The whole place seemed perpetually busy, perpetually agitated.

But Elvira's restlessness stemmed from another cause.

Anthony was supposed to be at her family's home today, invited for a visit. She had been preparing all morning—her mother, father, and younger brother all placing their own importance on the guest's arrival. Yet, without any warning, Anthony had gone straight to the hospital.

A look of irritation crossed Elvira's face as she shut the car door. She walked slowly—but the slowness was a deliberate attempt to contain her anger. She passed through the tall glass doors and entered the lobby. White tiles, the smell of pharmaceuticals, The cries of patients, the hurried footsteps of doctors—all of it drifted in.

But her mind was elsewhere.

Then, she spotted Anthony.

He was sitting in a white chair in the middle of the corridor, reports in his hands. His shoulders were slumped, tired lines etched beneath his eyes, the papers he held a jumbled mess.

His daughter's illness must have been weighing on him—it was obvious to anyone.

Still, a wave of anger surged through Elvira. Her entire day had been suddenly derailed because of his one decision.

Elvira walked over and stood a short distance away.

"When did you get here?" —his voice cold, but controlled.

"You were supposed to be our guest today."

There was no shouting in her voice, but the unease in the tone was clear—sadness, anger, and an accusation of neglect.

Anthony looked up slowly.His eyes were blank—just fatigue and preoccupation. Then he said in a perfectly even, cool voice,

"Dixon Hospital has a good reputation in the city. So I thought it was important to bring Rebecca here first."

It was a mechanical explanation, devoid of any warmth, emotion, or sympathy.

Elvira froze.

She had hoped for at least a show of sorrow, an explanation—but there was no human response on Anthony's face.

His daughter was sick—and everything made sense to him because of it.

Elvira understood—in place of any feeling, there was nothing in Anthony's eyes today.

Just then, footsteps sounded from the side.

Mary.

She hurried over and stood in front of Anthony and Elvira. A smile plastered on her face—one that was uncomfortably sweet, and you could tell at a glance it wasn't genuine.

"Elvira!" —she reached out her hand.

"It's so good to see you. It's been such a long time!"

Elvira looked at her, but her eyes were cold and her face was set.She didn't take the hand.She didn't smile.She didn't offer any pleasantries.She said, in a straight, firm, single line—

"I'm speaking with Anthony."

The words were like a sharp knife.Mary's smile faded in an instant.Her eyebrows twitched slightly—a line of discomfort and embarrassment appeared on her face. Still, she tried to hold her ground.

"Oh… right… you two talk."

She stepped back.

But no matter how much she tried to hide the discomfort and pain in the corner of her mouth, it was plain to see.

Silence fell over the corridor again.

The nurses glanced over and went back to their work. Anthony kept his eyes on the report.

Elvira felt deeply uncomfortable—a mixture of resentment, sadness, and a sharp sting of being ignored.

A few hours later—

The last light of the afternoon fell on the hospital garden. A soft breeze blew in the shade beneath the trees. Families of patients came here to get a little rest.

It was in this peaceful spot that Elvira and Anthony were sitting.

They were discussing their business deal.The anger was gone from Elvira's face.In its place was professionalism.It was uncomfortable to talk business while her daughter was sick, but it was essential for the future plans of both families.

She said in a soft but clear voice,

"We need to clear up a few things about our deal. No matter the circumstances, we could run into problems if we don't finalize the agenda."

Anthony was listening, but the worry in his eyes was clear.He nodded and said,

"Let's focus on Rebecca's situation first. We can handle the rest later."

Elvira could tell he wasn't mentally present.

And yet, the discussion continued, business-like—

Share distribution, future projects, family involvement—everything.But there was a palpable tension in the discussion, evident in their eyes.Then—

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps came from the garden.

Anthony's assistant rushed in, stopped, and stood there.His breathing was ragged.Terror on his face.

His eyes were wide.

"Sir! Urgent news!"

Anthony startled and said,

"What's happened?"

The assistant's voice was nearly trembling as he said,

"Rebecca... she's coughing up blood, sir! Right after taking the new medicine!"

For a moment, time stood still.

Elvira watched, holding her breath.

Anthony's eyes changed color—anger, fear, and panic all mixed on his face.

He didn't hesitate for a second.

He ran straight down the corridor.

Elvira followed right behind him, as if her feet knew where they had to go.As they ran down the corridor, they could hear it all—the incessant blaring of alarms, the hurried footsteps of nurses, and a frantic scream somewhere.

The sterile white light of the hospital seemed harsher, more intense in that moment.Reaching the room, Anthony pushed the door open and went inside.

Elvira stood right behind him.

Rebecca—

The little girl was curled up in bed.

There was blood on the side of her lip, a sound of pain in her throat—but the right words wouldn't come.

Weak, limp, and terrifyingly pale.

Mary was standing in the room.

She was trembling, her hands pressed to her chest, her face wet.She was terrified—it was clear in her eyes.

"What… what happened to her?" —Mary's voice was trembling.

"She was fine just a moment ago..."

Her words were lost in a shuddering breath.Anthony went to the bedside.

His face was set in a mask of fear and rage.

"What the hell happened to my daughter? Who gave her medicine? What's going on here?"

He was practically shouting.

The nurses were trying to calm him, but he wasn't listening to anyone.

Rebecca's weak coughing made the room feel even heavier.

Anthony raised his voice again—

"What is going on? Why is my daughter suddenly like this?"

There was panic in every word.

A father's anguish, a husband's rage—a terrifying intensity.

---

Doctor Benjamin rushed into the room and immediately understood the situation—Rebecca was suddenly coughing up blood, and the nurses were frantically following one instruction after another. But the unease on his face was something much deeper. He pulled out his stethoscope, placed it on Rebecca's chest, listened to her breathing, took her pulse—everything done with a kind of swift yet anxious slowness.

Elvira stood by the door, watching everything. Her eyes were on Anthony and Rebecca, but she also caught every gesture from Doctor Benjamin—for a small doubt or a mistake could make the situation even worse.

Doctor Benjamin frowned.

"I… I don't understand. This medication isn't supposed to cause a reaction like this. Side effects like this are extremely rare…"

Anthony looked at him, about to explode.

"Don't you get what I'm saying?! My daughter is coughing up blood, and you're standing there saying you don't know!"

Her voice held fear as well as anger. Rebecca's suffering was tearing her apart.

Benjamin was about to speak, but Elvira stepped forward and stopped him. The terror she saw on Anthony's face compelled her to make her own decision.

A sudden intensity flashed in her eyes. She came to Anthony's side and said in a soft yet firm voice,

"Anthony… what if I call someone for help? Someone I know… who might be able to do something for Rebecca?"

Anthony looked at her, his expression confused.

"Who? Who are you going to call?"

Elvira said nothing, stepping aside to pull out her phone. She walked toward the hallway so the conversation wouldn't be overheard.

There was no hesitation on her face now—only determination.

"Mikhail… Rebecca's in bad shape. Can you come? Now?"

Even though no one could hear the answer from the other side of the line, a slight relief appeared on her face. Elvira hung up and quickly returned to Anthony.

"He's coming," Elvira said.

"In an hour."

Anthony couldn't say anything. Given his daughter's condition, he couldn't stop anyone. His eyes were fixed on Rebecca—she seemed to be growing paler by the minute.

Nearly an hour passed.

The silence in the room grew heavier. Nurses came and went, and Dr. Benjamin shook his head anxiously, repeatedly glancing at the prescription and the reports.

Although Elvira stood silently, there was a strange resolve on her face—as if she were waiting for someone she was certain of.

Then, suddenly, the crowd outside the room shifted. Someone entered… calmly, with deep concentration and fatigue in their eyes.

Mikhail.

He was dressed casually—sleeves rolled up, a look of fatigue on his face. But his eyes… the steely resolve in them was clear—he had come because duty had called, and he was not one to shirk his responsibilities.

As Mikhail entered, Mary shot him a sharp glare. As if his very presence was a sin in itself.

"Why are you here?! I'm telling you, this man is a fraud!" Mary shouted.

"He doesn't have any degrees! Don't you know? Anthony, don't let him in!"

Mikhail showed no reaction.

He stood motionless, looking at Rebecca—the little girl's weak breaths, her blood-smeared lips, and the tremor of fear—in Mikhail's eyes, the reaction was human, very human, but on his face, it was half-masked in a calm expression.

Elvira turned to Mary in a stern voice,

"Mary, stop. Please stop. Your words aren't helping right now."

But Mary didn't stop.

She grabbed Anthony's hand and said,

"You can't trust him! This man is dangerous for your daughter! If you let him in, your risk—"

"Shut up."

One word from Anthony was enough to silence Mary.

His voice was as hard as fire.

"You will be quiet. I will make the decisions."

Mary stood there, stunned into silence.

She still wanted to say something, but she didn't dare, seeing the expression on Anthony's face.

Anthony turned to Mikhail now.

His eyes held a mixture of fear, need, and hope—a kind of helpless expectation.

"Can… can you watch over him?"

Mikhail nodded.

Softly, but firmly.

Elvira let out a breath—as if she had finally forced the right decision.

Mikhail entered the room.

He closed the door behind him.

A terrifying silence fell outside.

Anthony stood in front of the door—walking, stopping, and walking again. He couldn't stay still for even a second. The girl's small cough, the faint sounds from inside the room—all of it stabbed at his heart like a knife.

Elvira stood beside him.

Her hands were clasped over her chest.

Though her face was calm, the tension in her breathing was palpable.

And Mary—

She stood by the corner, her head bowed.Her eyes were welling up with sadness and uncertainty.

But there was a strange anger lurking on her face too—at Mikhail, at Elvira, and at her own fear.

Time seemed to stand still.

Every minute stretched into an hour.

Nurses passed down the hall, doctors hurried by, but for the three people in front of the room, there was only waiting—and nothing else.

---

About an hour later—

The door unlocked.Everyone stood up straight at once.Mikhail opened the door and stepped out, his expression grim and calm.There was exhaustion in his eyes, but an unfamiliar resolve in his posture.

"She's stable now," Mikhail said.

"The bleeding has stopped. Her breathing is normal."

Anthony seemed to suddenly lose the strength in his knees.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes—the weight that had been pressing on his heart seemed to lighten a little.

"My… daughter… she's okay now?"

"Yes," Mikhail said, his voice soft.

"She's out of danger now."

Elvira closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.A look of satisfaction crossed her face—she had made the right decision.Mary's face, however, turned a deep shade of black.

She didn't want to believe it, didn't want to accept that Mikhail had truly managed to help Rebecca.

Mikhail turned to Dr. Benjamin.

His eyes held a sharp question.

"How did you give her this medication?"

The question was cold, but sharp.

"Rebecca is allergic to antibiotics—it's written very clearly in her file. Didn't you look at the file?"

Doctor Benjamin froze.

His face went pale.

"I… maybe I didn't see it… I made a mistake…"

Mikhail said nothing more.There was no anger on his face, but the disappointment was clear. As if he knew how catastrophic the consequences of this oversight could have been.

Just then, Anthony stepped forward.

In his eyes, there was gratitude and something deeper—hope.

"Mikhail…"

He paused, clearing his throat to compose the words caught in his throat.

"Can you… can you fix Rebecca's mutism too? Her… inability to speak… can you bring it back?"

The question was heavy.

It came from a father's heart—the most personal, most helpless of requests.

Mary stopped short.Her lips trembled, but she said no more.

Here, Anthony turned.

His gaze was like fire.

"Silence.

Not a single word."