The Cold Surgeon's Contract Bride novel Chapter 32

The hospital cafeteria was always bustling with people, and with a walking billboard like Ferris present, all eyes were inevitably drawn our way. The fact that he suddenly threw out a phrase like "cheap grandstanding" was the equivalent of crushing my pride into the dirt for everyone to see.

I stood there mortified, my face burning with humiliation.

All I had done was complete the assignment given by my mentor. How did that equate to grandstanding?

Did it have something to do with the video Zoey had mentioned?

While I was still piecing it together, Zoey stepped in to play peacemaker. "Ferris probably doesn't know this, but during our medical school days, Selena's practical skills were always top-tier. Earning the praise of our colleagues is definitely well-deserved."

After saying that, she glanced back at me, a flash of awkwardness crossing her doe-like eyes.

She was too naive.

What did she mean Ferris didn't know? Before the famous "Scalpel" went off to Stanford, we crossed paths plenty of times in med school. We had competed against each other more than once in the university’s clinical skills competitions. Ferris knew exactly what my skill level was.

He was doing this entirely on purpose just to humiliate me in public.

At that thought, a surge of inexplicable anger tightened in my chest, leaving me completely agitated.

"So what if her practical skills are good?" Ferris's abrupt voice cut in again. He glared at me with strict authority and chastised, "A doctor's true calling is to save lives, not to show off. It seems Dr. Hayes has already forgotten how she fumbled around the operating room yesterday in a total panic."

The contemptuous tone, the condescending posture—every word Ferris spoke felt like a needle driving right into my heart, leaving a dense, throbbing ache in its wake.

Were we enemies?

Not exactly, right?

Even a marriage of convenience deserved some baseline respect. I wasn't begging Ferris to pamper me the way he doted on Zoey, but he didn't have to nitpick my every move, did he?

Did he really despise me that much? Did he have to tear me down in front of all these people so I couldn't salvage any shred of dignity?

Yes. Because he was Ferris Sterling, no one dared to speak up when he publicly reprimanded a lowly intern.

A heavy weight settled in my chest. I lifted my chin, meeting Ferris's gaze head-on, and fired back, "I have no idea what gave you the impression that I was showing off. As an anesthesiology intern and a total rookie, I'm well aware I have nothing to show off just yet. Furthermore..."

I paused, then delivered the final blow bluntly. "How much do you actually know about me, Dr. Sterling? Making reckless judgments without knowing the facts—doesn't that lack the professionalism of a senior doctor?"

My voice wasn't loud, but the moment the words landed, I could audibly hear the surrounding colleagues suck in a sharp breath.

Zoey's almond eyes widened into massive saucers.

It was true—given our senior-junior dynamic, I had no right to talk back to Ferris. But I had absolutely had it. Between our professional hierarchy and our marital ties—five years of unrequited love and three years of marriage—if Ferris had even an ounce of patience for me, he would know I was the most grounded person alive.

He had no right to judge me.

Obviously, the "inexperienced intern" the family was targeting was me.

I tried to reassure myself that the operating rooms had security cameras, and since I hadn't participated in the actual anesthesia process, the blame couldn't possibly land on me. It shouldn't be a big deal.

But very quickly, The Iron Mask called me into his office.

"Get yourself ready. You're coming with me to meet the patient's family," Dr. Logan said concisely. "Remember, keep your attitude incredibly humble. Focus on calming them down first. No matter what they say, just remember one word: endure."

My mind went blank. I hadn't even been involved in the procedure. Why was I the one being sent to face the family?

I voiced my confusion to him. He looked taken aback for a second before responding, "After an intubation, it's normal for some minor issues to arise. But the family doesn't understand that, and their emotions are running high. Someone needs to go in there and defuse the situation."

He tacked on a final remark, "This was a joint decision made by both departments."

The family was highly agitated, so they were sending in an intern who had zero involvement in the surgery to calm them down?

Wasn't this just a blatant attempt to make me the scapegoat?

And a joint decision made by both departments?

Did that mean Ferris was fully aware of this setup too?