Chapter 411 Bloodlines and Breaking Points

Elsie had thought Paul didn’t want Mr. Gerardo to survive, that he was finally resolute about divorcing Taylor—so she had proudly stepped in to “help.” What she didn’t know was that she had been part of Paul’s plan all along.

Someone who had betrayed Paul would never be allowed to live happily. That was how Paul saw it.

So when Saunders Hospital was completely sealed off, not even Elsie was spared. No one got out.

Paul looked up with cold satisfaction. His plan had always been to ensure that everyone he despised perished “with dignity” inside Saunders Hospital.

But what he couldn’t figure out was: Why was Wyatt supporting the hospital financially? There was no one there he was especially close to. Could it be for Mr. Gerardo? But according to Paul’s intel, Mr. Gerardo was already dead.

And what about Yunice? Saunders Hospital was in crisis—yet she hadn’t made a single move? Where had she gone?

Paul never considered that Yunice might be the variable that would dismantle his plan.

Suddenly, he sprang to his feet and barked at the driver, “Get me the lockdown roster for Saunders Hospital. Now!”

Meanwhile, Yunice was on the radio with Wyatt.

“I’ve got good news,” she said, nearly breathless. “Elsie’s condition has stabilized. The lab’s close to developing the antigen. This battle won’t last much longer.”

Her heart was pounding with excitement as she paced in circles. Still, her voice remained stern. “Don’t get complacent. Especially you. Stop treating the virus like it’s a game—stay away from the isolation zone from now on!”

“Worried about me?” Wyatt sounded amused.

Just hearing his tone, Yunice could picture him lazily reclining in his chair, long legs swinging casually under his desk.

“Yes,” she said, serious. “You’re reckless and impossible to trust.”

There was silence on the other end. Then Wyatt spoke again, voice low and frustrated, “I want to tear that damn hospital down and move you all into my lab.”

At least there, he thought, everything would be under his control. Whenever he wanted to see Yunice, he could.

Yunice laughed. “You can’t. I grew up there.”

Every corner, every room—her father had left his mark in the very bricks. It was her home.

Wyatt’s tone changed. He asked quietly, “Is it because you and Paul were both born in that hospital?”

Yunice blinked. The question came out of nowhere.

Paul was born at Saunders Hospital. Margaret had experienced a difficult labor. Every other hospital had told her to choose between mother or child. Only Will had stepped up and said, “I can save them both.” Margaret had taken a chance—and Paul had been born there. That single event had brought the Saunders and Powell families closer. Under Margaret’s efforts, there had even been a proposed arrangement…

But why would Wyatt bring that up?

Before she could ask, there was a pounding on her door.

“Yunice! Are you in there?” Tommy’s voice was urgent.

“I’m here!” she answered immediately.

“It’s Owen. Something’s wrong—you have to come now!”

Yunice froze. She’d braced herself for this moment—but hearing it out loud still made her nearly drop the radio.

She fumbled into her protective gear, saying quickly to Wyatt, “Emergency—I’ll call you back!”

Setting the radio aside, she burst out of the room.

Tommy met her outside and held up a hand. “Don’t panic—check your suit first.”

Face pale, Yunice hurriedly confirmed everything was sealed tight, then followed Tommy toward Owen’s ward.

At the door, she saw him.

Owen was thrashing violently on the bed. Several staff in full protective gear were trying to hold him down, while a doctor prepared a sedative injection.

Yunice rushed in. Owen’s neck and forehead bulged with veins from the strain, his eyes bloodshot—and then suddenly, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Internal hemorrhaging—ruptured blood vessels in the digestive tract. A known complication of the virus.

Everyone around him flinched. Blood splattered across suits, visors, gloves.

Tommy grabbed Yunice and pulled her back. At this point, there was nothing she could do. Owen collapsed onto the bed, strength drained. He could barely struggle anymore.

The medical team secured his wrists and administered the sedative. Surgery would follow to stop the bleeding.

Head tilted, eyes red, Owen looked weakly in Yunice’s direction. His blood-flecked lips moved, barely whispering. “…Yunice…”