All Chapters of Surgeon's Revenge: From Ex Wife To Country's Best Doctor : Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Scarlett's POVAshfield’s name lit the screen while I was still sitting beside Spencer’s bed.The ICU was quiet except for the monitors,the steady beep, the soft mechanical sigh of oxygen, the low hum of equipment that had become the room’s only language. I stepped just far enough from the glass that my voice wouldn’t carry to the nurses’ station and answered.“It’s done,” Ashfield said. “Calista Lancaster was taken into custody this evening with no resistance.”“She’s in custody,” I repeated, as if the words needed to be tested out loud before they could settle.“Yes, we're processing now," she pause. “Calista's case but Konrad is a different problem. He insulated himself behind corporate structures, lawyers, and the fact that he was never the one who physically reached out to Harris. We still have to prove he knowingly participated in the cover-up and the concealment afterward. The arrest doesn’t bring him down by itself.”I closed my eyes for a second. The relief I had expected for

Konrad's POVI set the phone down and looked at the notation under the lamp one more time.The initials were still there. The date before the river. The ordinary approval that tied the contingency structure to this office. Outside the glass the city kept its lights. Inside, the quiet of the top floor no longer felt like a wall. The subpoena would pull the archived records from the year of the river. That was no longer a possibility. It was a schedule. Waiting for lawyers to manage the perimeter while investigators walked through those files was how men lost rooms they had owned for decades. I had watched it happen to other people. I had no intention of sitting still while it happened to me.I pulled a pad across the desk and wrote the names that still mattered. The pen moved in short, precise strokes. Evidence first, then people. Who could put a voice to Emma’s paper. Who still knew Harris. Who understood the foundation the way it had actually been used. Who had been in the house when

Scarlett's POV The conference room at the federal building smelled like burnt coffee and old paper. Ashfield had the folders open in a line across the table. Richard sat with a legal pad half-filled with dates while Nicholas stood rather than sat, arms folded, eyes on the pages like they might rearrange themselves if he looked away. I stayed in the chair nearest the end of the table, close enough to read the labels. "Here's what we've got," Ashfield tapped the first stack. “Calista to Harris. Payment authorization, confirming message, same window of dates before the river. Emma’s copies and the matching record from the office photos.” "Then there's the foundation," Richard slid a page forward. "Pre-existing. Money already in place before the accident, not after. That kills the ‘reaction after the fact’ defense.” "Then there's the post-accident cleanup, " He said. "communications, the investigation closed in three hours, the people who moved when he spoke. We have the recording a

Scarlett's POV The light in the room seemed too bright for him. His brow tightened against it and lips were dry when he tried to swallow, the movement looked painful. “Spencer.” My voice came out rough. "Where-I...." He blinked slowly. "Where am I?" "You're in the hospital," I said quietly. "You were in an accident, don’t move yet.” He tried anyway. His shoulder shifted against the pillow and his face tightened hard, a low sound left him, more breath than voice. “Stop, please." I put my free hand lightly on his forearm, careful of the line. "Just stay still. You’re going to hurt yourself.” The nurse was already at the head of the bed, checking leads, calling for the doctor in a calm, practiced tone. Sage had both hands on the rail like she needed it to stay upright. Within a minute the room filled with the doctor, second nurse, the soft clatter of a chart against a tray, the squeak of shoes on linoleum. “Mr. Ashford.” The doctor leaned into his line of sight, penlight ready

Spencer's POV Morning light came through the blinds in thin stripes. I was more awake than the day before, that didn’t mean I felt better. Everything hurt in a dull, constant way, the leg in the brace, the shoulder, the deep pull along my ribs where the seatbelt had done its job. Scarlett was already in the chair when I opened my eyes fully. She looked like she had slept in pieces. “You’re staring,” My voice still sounded rough. “I’m checking you’re still breathing.” She stood and reached for the cup on the tray. “You want water?” “Yes, please." I said. She held the cup and angled the straw and I drank. When she set the cup down I shifted against the pillow and winced. “Hold on.” She adjusted the pillow behind my shoulders, careful of the lines. “Better?” "A little," I said. "I hate this.” "No one in your situation would like it," She said softly. “I can’t even reach my own phone without feeling like I’m going to pull something.” "There," She picked it up from the tray an