Unemployed Family? Hidden Tycoons Dote On Her novel Chapter 630

Arabella glanced at Harper, who was curled up on the hospital bed, looking fragile and distant. "I can help her," she stated calmly, moving toward the patient.

Harper flinched slightly, her eyes widening with unease.

"Wait a second," Freya cut in, stepping between them. "Do you even have a medical license? You're going to scare her, barging in like that."

Arabella raised an eyebrow. "And you do?"

Freya hesitated, caught off guard. She didn't.

"If family members aren't cooperative, treatment becomes difficult," Arabella said coolly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"You—just hold on," Freya replied through gritted teeth. "I'm not comfortable with this. We should wait for Edward to arrive. Then you can examine Harper."

"Since when does my brother need to be present for me to treat someone?" Arabella's voice was steady. "What's the point of waiting?"

"I already told you, it doesn't feel right to me," Freya snapped impatiently.

Arabella let out a dismissive laugh. "Enough of this. If you don't want my help, I'll leave."

She turned to walk away.

"Hey—stop right there," Freya called out, a note of panic in her voice.

"Watch your tone," Arabella warned without looking back. "Unless you'd like to join Dylan wherever he is."

Though her words were directed at Freya, Arabella kept her eyes on Harper. She didn't miss the slight tremor in Harper's shoulders at the mention of Dylan's name.

Freya grew nervous. "Don't try to intimidate me, all right? I just asked you to wait a little before treating her. She's been through a lot and can't handle more shock."

"I'm not trying to scare her," Arabella replied evenly.

In truth, she'd already formed a preliminary diagnosis in her mind. Harper had retreated inward after severe emotional trauma—a classic psychological shutdown.

A faint, cold smile touched Arabella's lips. "She really fell hard. But for someone like Dylan... was he even worth it?"

"How can you say that about her?" Freya shot back, annoyed. "All of this is because of you, isn't it?"

Arabella tilted her head. "How is any of this my fault?"

"She chose him, you gave your approval—practically encouraged it. Now that things have gone wrong, you're putting the blame on me?"

"You little—" Freya started, but seeing the shift in Arabella's expression, she bit back her words. "You've certainly become sharp-tongued all of a sudden."

"Have I said anything untrue?" Arabella gave Freya a pointed look. "Or are you just trying to shift responsibility now that things have blown up in your face?"

Freya had no comeback. She took a half-step back. "Fine, I won't argue about that. Matters of the heart are messy anyway. Dylan didn't want you; he chose Harper. It could've been a sweet story, but she just picked the wrong guy."

Arabella smirked. "Whether you're sympathizing with Harper or refusing to admit your own poor judgment, think what you want, do what you want. But don't drag me into it. Dylan and I never had anything between us."

Even if she were a member of the Macdonald family—which she wasn't—she would never have married someone like Dylan.

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