Chapter 2

Penelope’s POV

After I hung up, I took a deep breath, put on my mask, and wheeled myself back to my room as if nothing had happened.

Over the next few days, Lysander and Nicholas were the picture of devoted caregivers.

The day I was discharged, Nicholas knelt before me, carefully smoothing the hem of my dress.

The door opened. Lysander walked in carrying a brand-new coat.

"It's windy out, Penny. Bundle up."

He draped the coat over my shoulders with exaggerated tenderness.

"Wait here." Nicholas parked my wheelchair under the hospital awning. "I'll bring the car around. Lysander's handling the discharge paperwork."

I watched their retreating figures.

The moment they disappeared from sight, I spun my wheelchair around, desperate to leave.

I couldn't stomach another second of their fake concern. Even if I had to crawl, I was getting out of here on my own terms.

My wheelchair had barely rounded the corner when familiar voices drifted from the parking lot.

"Did you plant all the stories about Penny's surgical malpractice?"

Lysander's voice cut like ice.

My wheelchair stopped.

"Yeah..." Nicholas sounded hesitant. "But Penny's already in such bad shape. Do we really need to fabricate scandals to destroy her reputation? She was the best neurosurgeon in the field—"

"Of course we do!"

Lysander's voice cracked like a whip. "Only by completely ruining her in the medical community can we guarantee she'll never threaten Charlotte again."

"You think crippling her hands was enough? Penny's too smart. As long as she still has her name, as long as anyone remembers her talent, Charlotte will forever live in her shadow."

"I want the world to forget 'genius surgeon Penelope Ashworth.' I want them to only remember 'the butcher in a white coat.'"

Silence.

Finally, Nicholas sighed. "...Fine. But once the stories break, those 'victims' families' might come after her. Penny's going to be in serious trouble."

Lysander laughed coldly. "Trouble? She already is one."

My wheelchair hit the wall.

I clapped a hand over my mouth. The taste of blood spread across my tongue.

They weren't just going to destroy my body — they were going to destroy my name?

All those years of endless surgeries, all those patients I'd pulled back from the brink of death, all those hard-won achievements—

Wiped out by fabricated headlines?

Before I could process it, the hospital doors burst open.

Camera flashes exploded. Microphones jabbed at my face from every direction.

"Dr. Ashworth! Is it true your surgical negligence caused multiple patient deaths? Any comment?"

"Some families are calling you 'the butcher in a white coat.' How do you respond?"

"How dare you show your face at this hospital?"

Before I could react, a mob of "grieving families" surged toward me.

"Murderer!" A middle-aged woman lunged, her nails nearly gouging my eyes. "My husband died on your table!"

"My son was only eighteen! How could you let him die in surgery!"

"Penelope Ashworth, you deserve to rot in hell!"

I tried to explain, but my voice drowned in the storm of accusations.

Someone threw the first punch.

Hands tore at me from every direction. Someone yanked my hair. Someone ripped my clothes.

My wheelchair toppled. I crashed to the ground.

I tried to get up, but my legs were dead weight.

I shielded my head with my arms. Tears and blood streaked down my face.

I couldn't hear anything anymore.

Only my own heartbeat, pounding like a death knell.

"Back off! Get the hell away from her!"

Lysander's roar cut through the chaos.

He bulldozed through the crowd and pulled me into his arms. Nicholas was right behind him, shoving reporters aside, his face dark as thunder.

"Where the hell are the bodyguards?!"

Lysander stripped off his jacket and draped it over me, his voice shaking. "Penny... Penny, it's okay. I'm here. Your brother's here..."

His eyes glistened, the picture of heartbreak.

Nicholas dropped to one knee and gently wiped the blood from my face. "Who touched her? I'll make every single one of you pay!"

He lifted me into his arms as if I were the most precious thing in the world.

Their performance was flawless.

Lysander threatened to sue the reporters. Nicholas rushed me to safety. The bodyguards arrived "just in time" to hold back the mob.

From any angle, they looked like the most loving family imaginable.

But only I knew the truth.

This whole circus was their production.

They wanted me branded as a butcher, my reputation destroyed beyond repair.

And their precious Charlotte would inherit everything I'd built.

Well. Mission accomplished.