Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 166

Chapter 166

The doctor paled visibly, a tremor running through his hands. “I… I

wouldn’t know about that specifically. The data entry is handled by

administrative staff.”

I took another step closer, my presence overwhelming. “Lillian Hale’s

silver poisoning–is it true she only has about six months left?”

“Theoretically, she has between six months to a year,” the doctor

admitted reluctantly, sweat now visible on his upper lip. “Previous

assessments gave her two to three years of survival.”

“Someone tampered with her case data, didn’t they?” I felt my eyes

flash, a hint of gold seeping into my irises–my wolf rising close to

the surface.

“No! Absolutely not!” The doctor’s denial came too quickly, his voice

pitched higher than normal. “The progression of silver poisoning can

be unpredictable.”

Taylor waited until the doctor had scurried away before speaking, his

voice low enough that only I could hear. “I’ve got some information,

sir,” he said. “The medical center’s operations weren’t by the book.

Lillian Hale’s information was entered correctly, but the silver toxin

neutralizer allocation system redirected her dose to another patient

1/4

Chapter 166

just ten minutes before her scheduled injection.”

My jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in my cheek. “Who authorized

that?”

“That’s the thing–Dr. Green fought against it, arguing that Mrs. Hale

had priority, but the system showed there was no issue with the

allocation. It was as if the system had been programmed to favor

certain patients.”

“So what you’re telling me is that the medical center operated

improperly, but we can’t prove who deliberately intercepted Lillian’s

neutralizer?” My voice was deadly quiet.

“Essentially, yes,” Taylor confirmed, meeting my gaze steadily.

“Technically, everything appears to be procedurally correct.

someone definitely manipulated the system. We just can’t prove

who.”

I dismissed Taylor with a curt nod, my mind racing. Someone had

manipulated the system–someone with enough influence to override

medical protocols without leaving evidence.

Hours later, I entered my penthouse apartment, the silence greeting

me like an unwelcome guest. I shrugged off my suit jacket and

loosened my tie, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me.

2/4

Chapter 166

I noticed immediately that something was different. The throw pillows on the couch had been replaced, and some of the furniture

had been rearranged. The changes reminded me of Elsa’s apartment-

practical, comfortable, with subtle touches of warmth that my place

had always lacked.

A surge of irrational anger rose within me. “Why did she take everything with her?” I muttered, stalking into the bathroom. It

wasn’t like she had brought much when she moved in–just a few personal items, some books, her clothes. But somehow, her absence had left the space feeling hollow, sterile in a way it never had before. I remembered the last time she’d gathered her things, fingers shaking

with fury as she’d jammed clothes into her suitcase.

“I’m done with this bullshit,” she’d hissed, eyes blazing as she’d

whirled around to face me. “Done being your fucking doormat Done

letting you treat me like I’m nothing.” Her voice had broken then,

tears streaming down her flushed cheeks even as she’d angrily wiped

them away.

In the bathroom, I found theshower gel Elsa had always used, now

replaced by Vera’s expensive French products. Without thinking, I

grabbed Elsa’s shower gel, intending to throw it away. But before I

could, I unscrewed the cap and inhaled deeply, the familiar scent

hitting me with unexpected force.

Memories flooded back–Elsa emerging from the shower, her hair

3/4

Chapter 166

damp and golden, her skin flushed from the hot water. The way she

would smile at me, soft and unguarded in those rare moments of

peace between us. How she’d pace the bathroom when frustrated,

gesturing wildly and occasionally letting loose a string of curses that

would have made a seasoned wolf blush.

I slammed the bottle into the trash can, my expression a complex

mixture of anger, regret, and something dangerously close to longing.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the discarded bottle,

before turning away and leaving the bathroom.