He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 275

Losing his patience, Jevon shot a look over to Yvonne Quinn.

Yvonne moved instantly. Accompanied by two bodyguards, she clamped a hand over Dr. Thorne's mouth and dragged him forcefully up the stairs to the study.

The moment Dr. Thorne saw Yorath sitting on the leather sofa, he scrambled over to him, desperate.

"Mr. Fordham, whatever suffering Ms. Sewell endured at the hospital, I swear it had nothing to do with me! Please, let my family go. My children are still so young..."

He had fled the country with his entire family, only to be hunted down by Jevon's men shortly after.

He had no idea where his wife and kids were now. He was the only one dragged back to the country.

If he had known Ottilie was someone he absolutely could not afford to mess with, he would never have crossed her, even if it cost him his life.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions," Yorath said coldly.

Dr. Thorne kept his back bent in submission. "Please, ask anything."

"What is the exact reality of Ottilie's condition?"

"Well... as long as she isn't triggered, she's perfectly fine. But if she gets provoked, she loses all lucidity. At its worst, she exhibits severe violent tendencies. She severely injured someone at the hospital."

"She castrated the doctor who assaulted her?" Yorath supplied flatly.

Caught red-handed, Dr. Thorne figured Yorath's people had already dug up everything.

He didn't dare hide the truth. "That wasn't the only incident. There were several others who would have died if we hadn't intervened in time. The hospital board had a meeting and decided to make Ms. Sewell quietly disappear. In the end, I was the one who fiercely objected and suggested discharging her. That way, the hospital completely washed its hands of the problem."

A sharp, visceral pain tore through Yorath's chest, hurting even more than when Ottilie had stabbed him.

Every breath felt like a physical punishment.

His hands gripped the rosewood armrests of the chair with such crushing force that his nails cracked, dripping blood onto the wood, completely unnoticed by him.

Dr. Thorne saw it all, however, and cowered even lower.

"Which board member?" Yorath demanded.

"It was... it was Mr. Quentin. If he hadn't given the green light, we never would have dared treat Ms. Sewell like that."

He grabbed the porcelain teacup off the table and hurled it violently at Dr. Thorne.

It shattered directly against the doctor's forehead, sending blood streaming down his face.

Dr. Thorne didn't even dare raise a hand to stop the bleeding, keeping his posture submissively bent.

"Mr. Yorath, this is the only way to keep her condition under control. If you burst her bubble and force her to revert to who she used to be, you'll regret it."

In that moment, Dr. Thorne felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Yes, he was a corrupt, money-grubbing bastard, but his professional expertise was undeniable.

He was a master of psychology. He understood human nature perfectly.

Everyone had a weakness. As long as he held Yorath's weakness, his family would be safe.

He wouldn't have to rot in a jail cell.

Ottilie was Yorath's ultimate weakness.