Queen of Wild Cards novel Chapter 196

"Maisie, pack your things and leave. The Shipley family has no need for a maid like you."

Regardless of how they themselves had treated Star, it was entirely unacceptable for a servant to intentionally slight a guest at their door.

Her job was to report the arrival immediately. If the family chose to turn the guest away, that was their prerogative, but for a maid to take matters into her own hands was a gross overstep.

"Ma'am, I'm so sorry. I know I was wrong. Please give me one more chance! I promise I'll never make a mistake like this again."

"Go see the head butler, collect your final paycheck, and get out. You're fired. Today you delayed a guest; tomorrow you might decide you run the estate."

"Ma'am, I'd never! I beg you, just one more chance!"

Steward's aunt snapped impatiently, "When you're told to leave, you leave. Do you want to forfeit your severance?"

Her parents were elderly, and she wasn't about to let this weeping maid stress them out any further.

Completely defeated, Maisie dragged herself out of the room.

Orville, exhausted and annoyed with his family, signaled for an aide to wheel him away.

He had burned through so much effort just to make that phone call to secure a healer. Even if his old friend hadn't come personally, would anyone he sent be incompetent?

They were all grown adults, yet they still couldn't grasp the concept of not judging a book by its cover!

Agnes looked visibly shaken. She knew she had acted poorly today, setting a terrible example in front of her daughter and daughter-in-law.

While the others didn't know the sheer physical toll it took for her husband to make that call, she did.

And now, he was furious with her!

But wasn't she just terrified for his health?

My grandfather suffered a massive stroke, and the complications are severe. The specialists say it's hopeless. I was thinking... maybe the miracle worker who cured your legs could take a look at him."

Julius shot him a flat look. "Steward, what are you smoking? The person who fixed my legs was a surgeon. Your grandfather's stroke is a neurological issue, isn't it?"

"Julius, top-tier medical geniuses cross-train all the time. Maybe this person has a background in neurology too. Just give me a name, or at least a phone number."

When Julius's legs were shattered, countless world-renowned specialists had declared it a lost cause—yet he was perfectly fine now.

It was all about finding someone with an untouchable level of skill.

Julius held his gaze. He had sworn to Stella that he would never reveal her involvement, and he certainly wasn't going to break that promise for Steward.

"I genuinely have no idea who it was. I was practically on my deathbed, and this person just showed up out of nowhere, claiming they could fix me.

I'll be totally honest with you—they didn't even have a valid medical license. But I figured I was dead anyway, so I rolled the dice and trusted them. Against all odds, they actually cured me. Pretty lucky, right?"