Who Cares About Him When I'm Married to the Richest Man?-Chapter 133: Once a Passionate Youth

After hanging up the phone, Lucy Taylor looked at him somewhat guiltily, "It’s a good thing you picked up and took over. Otherwise, if your grandmother really showed up and saw the situation, she would have been worried to death."

Zion Fitzwilliam glanced at her, not in the mood to speak.

As time passed, the unease in his heart intensified. If it were just a minor injury, why hadn’t she come out of the emergency room after so long?

He glanced at his watch; it had already been an hour and a half.

He exerted all his effort to suppress those terrifying emotions swirling in his mind. Without knowing the outcome, he couldn’t afford to scare himself; he needed to remain absolutely calm to handle whatever came next.

But this endless waiting could easily drive someone mad.

Finally, when he was about to reach his limit, the door to the emergency room suddenly opened, and a nurse came out, asking, "Who is a family member of Elara Hale?"

Zion Fitzwilliam and Lucy Taylor almost rushed forward simultaneously, speaking in unison, "I am!"

Zion glanced at his mother while Lucy sheepishly touched her nose and stepped back behind him.

She was just too nervous, so when someone asked, she quickly rushed forward.

Zion asked the nurse with a hint of tension, "How is she?"

The nurse replied, "Her right leg is fractured, and there’s a puncture wound on her left shoulder. The wounds have just been bandaged, and she hasn’t woken up yet. Since you’re here, follow us to the ward; we’ve had several severe cases today, and we’re really short-staffed."

Zion was taken aback, then realized that Elara wasn’t severely injured. Given how long she’d been inside, the medical staff probably prioritized treating more critical patients first.

He couldn’t demand special privileges at a time like this, especially since Elara’s injuries were relatively minor compared to others’.

So he merely nodded to the nurse and said, "Can you arrange a private ward?"

The nurse had been working in the emergency room for over an hour with hardly a moment’s rest. Even so, two people couldn’t be saved. Despite being accustomed to life and death, she wasn’t in the best mood and replied somewhat impatiently, "You can, but you need to check with the inpatient department downstairs. I’m very busy and can’t help you with this."

The director, who had been standing not far off, not daring to approach, finally had the courage to step forward. Seeing the young nurse daring to speak to Zion Fitzwilliam that way, he instantly scolded her harshly, "Busy with what! Do you know who’s standing in front of you! Hurry and give..."

"Director Coleman," Zion interrupted him, looking him in the eye and reminding him, "The duty of medical staff is to save lives."

Director Coleman’s words got stuck in his throat. Was President Fitzwilliam implying he wasn’t being respectful enough? But as soon as he heard President Fitzwilliam was at the hospital, he rushed over, knowing that someone with ties to Zion was injured. He was so intimidated that his knees went weak, urgently assembled the hospital’s best surgeons to tend to the situation, hoping to make an impression. But before he could even speak, Zion had dismissed him...

He felt wronged. Waiting in the corner for nearly two hours, he finally got a chance to speak to President Fitzwilliam, only to find him seemingly defending the young nurse.

The young nurse’s heart was moved by the patient inside the emergency room. Although the director’s reprimand made her realize the man in front of her was someone significant, in the face of life and death, everyone is equal. She just nodded slightly and hurried back in.

Director Coleman was still trying to decipher Zion Fitzwilliam’s message when he heard Zion say calmly, "Director Coleman, it’s extremely challenging for medical staff to stick to their posts. As a manager, don’t dishearten these people."

Director Coleman was taken aback.

Zion wasn’t in the mood to elaborate. After making his point, he walked away resolutely.

Lucy followed closely behind.

Director Coleman stood bewildered for a long time before realizing Zion had just gone downstairs. Did he really have President Fitzwilliam handle the ward transfer procedure himself?

He hadn’t interacted with President Fitzwilliam much. The first time was when Zion suddenly bought the hospital, and as the top administrator, he met with him. Then, there was an occasion regarding a paralyzed patient named David Hales, but he didn’t have the opportunity to converse much then either. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

And now this.

He initially assumed that someone in Zion Fitzwilliam’s position would buy a hospital merely to enjoy medical privileges, so every time Zion showed up, he was on edge, terrified of messing up and losing his position.

He never expected Zion to remark that medical staff have it rough.

Did he not know how challenging it was to be a healthcare worker? If being a doctor was easy, why would he have transitioned to management?

His assistant noticed him standing there silently for a long time and cautiously approached to remind him, "Director... Director?"

Director Coleman abruptly snapped back from his memories.

He looked at his young assistant, his resolve wavering, and after a while, he asked, "Jacobs, why did you choose to study medicine back then?"

Jacobs, a young man who had just turned thirty, had only just begun his internship this year and hadn’t graduated from his doctorate yet.

Hearing the director’s question, he replied with his chest held high, "To save lives and heal the wounded, of course."

"Save lives and heal the wounded..." A flicker of tears seemed to glimmer in Director Coleman’s eyes, though he wore a smile on his face, "Saving lives is a good cause."

Once, he too was a passionate youth with the highest of ideals, eager to practice medicine to save lives and heal the wounded.

Being a doctor was exhausting, but he was willing to bear it. He would persist in treating patients even two hours after shifts ended. During those times, he could hardly recall the last time he had a proper meal, but the gratitude on patients’ faces gave him immense satisfaction.

Yet he’ll never forget the events of a rescue operation three years ago.

It was late at night, and he was on duty. A young doctor from his department hadn’t been scheduled but stayed late anyway because a newly admitted patient had unstable vitals, making the young doctor uneasy.

Not until the patient’s indicators stabilized did the young doctor prepare to leave.

Then, unexpectedly, several car accident victims were brought in by ambulance. The accident was severe, involving a large truck colliding with a family of three in a sedan. The woman died on the spot.

The offending driver wasn’t severely injured, and just as he was about to be stabilized, a knife-wielding man burst in from outside, cursing at the young doctor who was suturing the driver. The young doctor was caught completely off guard and was stabbed in the heart.

The moment he was stabbed, the young doctor was still holding the suture needle steadily, and so as not to perturb the patient under his care, he couldn’t even resist, staring in shock and fear as the knife plunged into him.

Blood sprayed everywhere, and the emergency room plunged into chaos. The young doctor was rushed to the operating room, and not long after, the chief surgeon came out, solemnly declaring the doctor couldn’t be saved.

Director Coleman still vividly remembers his feelings at that moment.

The people he wanted to save turned on his colleague. Suddenly, all ideals and beliefs felt like a joke.

The investigation into the incident concluded swiftly. The culprit’s wife had breast cancer and was being treated at the hospital. This was a recurrence; she had no chance of surviving. The initial diagnosis had been five years prior, and the surgery was performed by the young doctor who died.

This time, when the cancer cells metastasized, the culprit blamed the doctor, thinking his surgical skills were subpar, leading to his wife’s condition. In his rage, he took revenge with a knife.

The culprit was swiftly apprehended, and the deceased doctor posthumously received numerous honors. Everything seemed to be in the past.

But Director Coleman found himself unable to face his patients anymore.

He no longer waited in his office without complaints, no longer shared heartfelt words with his patients, nor did he earnestly consider their well-being.

Even during surgeries, the face of that young doctor kept flashing in his mind.

He knew he was only forty, the most experienced doctor in Northgarde for treating breast cancer, his wife was a nurse, they had just married not long ago, and had a two-year-old daughter.

He was so dedicated, so selfless. If he had been a bit selfish, if he hadn’t worked overnight for a newly admitted patient, none of this would have happened to him.

But he gave everything, only to be fatally stabbed by the patient’s family.

For a doctor, it was the collapse of faith, the shattering of ideals.

Director Coleman couldn’t get over it; his hands could no longer hold a scalpel.

So he applied to transition to a management position, and from then on, he never touched a scalpel again.

Later, President Fitzwilliam bought the hospital, and the former director was headhunted, so he naturally became the new director.

The young assistant didn’t understand the bitterness, asking curiously, "Director Coleman, are you alright?"

Why did he suddenly start crying?

Director Coleman waved his hand, choking down his words, "I’m fine."

He wobbled away.

Zion Fitzwilliam finished the paperwork for transferring wards and went upstairs, where Elara had just been moved onto the bed by the nurse. Her injuries weren’t severe; her fractured leg was cast, and her shoulder wound was stitched and bandaged.

Lucy Taylor sat by her bed, wiping tears in distress, wanting to touch her but was scared to, cautiously asking, "Does it hurt?"

Elara was awake, her complexion a bit pale, but she was patient with Lucy, comforting, "I’m okay, it doesn’t hurt."

"It’s definitely painful," Lucy teared up, "it’s all my fault, if I hadn’t asked you to meet, you wouldn’t have been in this situation. I’m so bad, I almost got you killed."

Elara couldn’t help but chuckle, "How can this be your fault? It was just a coincidence; you didn’t hurt me on purpose."

Lucy was about to burst into sobs when Zion Fitzwilliam stopped her, "Mom, Elara needs to rest. You should go back."

Lucy choked on her tears, "I want to stay with her."

Zion Fitzwilliam refused, "She needs rest, you talk too much."

"Then I won’t talk anymore."

"I don’t believe that." Zion Fitzwilliam said bluntly, looking at her with already impatiently creased brows, "If you’re really sorry, go home and make some light meals to nourish her, and bring them over tonight."

Lucy had to leave reluctantly.

Elara chuckled, "Why are you so hard on her? I think she’s nice to have around."

Zion Fitzwilliam saw her fragile yet determined smile, feeling distressed, "If she’s here, you’ll have to spend energy comforting her."

He said, sitting down beside her, holding her hand, his low voice almost drowning her, "Were you scared today?"

Elara froze, instinctively looking at their intertwined hands.

Zion Fitzwilliam’s back stiffened slightly but he didn’t let go.

Elara hesitated for only a moment before making sense of it: someone as kind as him would naturally worry upon hearing about her car accident, like a sister; if Zara Dalton were here, she’d be crying in her arms.

Thinking this way, Elara’s strange feeling dissipated. Thinking of Zara Dalton reminded her of what Mrs. Dalton had mentioned to her, so she quickly said, "Can you get in touch with Zara Dalton? The Dalton Family’s funding chain has broken, if Zara doesn’t get engaged to Haylie Sommers, the Dalton Family will be burdened with huge debts. I think it’s something Zara should know about before making a choice."

"Okay, I understand." Zion Fitzwilliam’s voice remained gentle, lightly patting her arm, steady and calm, "No need for you to worry about this, I’ll take care of it."

Elara nodded, relieved.

Her eyelids grew heavy, still wanting to chat a bit more, but Zion Fitzwilliam said softly, "Sleep, I’ll be here watching over you."

Elara unknowingly drifted into sleep.

Once she was asleep, Zion Fitzwilliam took out his phone, walking to the window to make a call.

"Inject some funds into the Dalton Group. Not too much, just enough to relieve their urgent needs."

On the other end, Assistant Harris, who was busy tracking down the hit-and-run driver, was taken aback and took a moment to respond before asking, "The Dalton Group, is it the one that Miss Hale’s friend belongs to?"

Hearing Zion Fitzwilliam’s affirmative answer, he let out a sigh of relief, thinking he was indeed smart, guessing it correctly.

After all, with Zion Fitzwilliam’s status, there’s really no need to be interested in such a small company.

It had to be for Miss Hale...

An hour later, the Dalton Family received an overseas investment of a full 1.2 billion, just enough to cover their loan deficit.

Mr. Dalton was stunned when he received the call and hurriedly called over Mrs. Dalton, "What, what, what is going on?"

Mrs. Dalton was also bewildered, "Did we ever have dealings with this investment company before?"

"Are you crazy? This is Veridian Capital! A colossal entity, how could a company like ours have contact with them? Let me give you an example, aren’t the Sommers and Warner Families powerful enough? They can’t even get close to Veridian Capital!"

Mrs. Dalton’s eyes turned, "Could it be they see potential in our company..."

"Bah!" Mr. Dalton looked at her disdainfully, "Don’t you know our company’s situation? Would they invest without a check?"

"Then what exactly is going on?" Mrs. Dalton was confused.

Mr. Dalton couldn’t figure it out either, eventually giving up, "Forget it, it’s a good thing anyway. With this money, if our son doesn’t show up, so be it. Anyway, I don’t want to marry the daughter from the Sommers."

Mrs. Dalton had the same thought. If Haylie Sommers were upright, it would be one thing for the Dalton Family to marry into the Sommers. But Haylie’s reputation is already in shambles; she doesn’t want such a daughter-in-law either. How could she hold her head high in the future?

Previously, there was no other way, but now with the funding, let the Sommers keep their cold faces. She’s not going to deal with them anymore.