Chapter 764

This is a story you’ve heard before.
When Matthew Ross first learned of Isabella Austin’s plan, he didn’t hesitate to turn her down. The rejection wasn’t enough—he was furious, genuinely offended at the mere suggestion. He warned her in no uncertain terms not to use him for something like this. As a med student about to start his career saving lives, he also told Isabella that these sorts of schemes only hurt everyone involved.
But Isabella Austin wasn’t one to give up so easily. She dug into his family background, found out everything she could, and laid out every possible benefit in meticulous detail. Matthew remained unmoved. He walked away without looking back.
It’s easy to stand your ground once or twice. But what about the third time? The fourth? The ninth or the tenth?
What happens when you keep hitting dead ends applying to your dream hospitals— when every door slams shut in your face? When you watch classmates with less academic achievement but powerful connections slip effortlessly into prestigious jobs at the top hospitals, never once having to worry about their future?
That’s when Matthew began to waver.
One night, he called his mother back home. She was beaming, holding up a watermelon to the camera, telling him proudly she’d managed to buy it ridiculously cheap. For less than a dollar a pound, she could finally afford a whole one, not just a few slices as before. “This will last us a good while,” she said with a smile.
Matthew’s mother still used an ancient phone, the kind with a blurry camera that left everything shrouded in gray, as if no one had bothered to wipe the lens clean. She lived in a tiny, cramped apartment, the furniture worn and dated. The curtains behind her had been there since she first moved in; she’d had to wash them three times just to get them halfway clean. The lightbulb dangling from the ceiling was forever on the fritz, flickering out for no reason. She never replaced it—it would have cost only a couple of bucks, but she couldn’t bear to spend it.
Even with the grainy image, Matthew still saw the white strands in her hair, the lines etched deep into her face, and a small cut on her cheek.
He asked about the cut. His mother brushed it off, but something in her tone made him press her for the truth. When she saw how worried he was, she finally told him what happened.
Helen and Brandon had applied for financial aid at school. Some troublemaking classmates who resented them found out and ambushed them at the classroom door, mocking them for being poor. Brandon lost his temper and fought back. Their mother went to the school to stand up for them, but was slapped by one of the wealthy parents—parents who had donated the school library, no less. In the end, she was forced to apologize, since Brandon had thrown the first punch and the school didn’t dare offend their benefactors.
At the end of the video call, his mother insisted everything was fine. Her boss was kind, she said, and every morning at the factory, she got a free bowl of warm porridge for breakfast—she’d buy a little pickled vegetable to go with it, and it tasted better than anything. Next month, her boss planned to give her a raise—an extra fifteen dollars or so, she said brightly. “Don’t worry about me.”
That was the night Matthew agreed to Isabella Austin’s deal. He took the money, sent Brandon and Helen overseas to study, moved his mother into a spacious apartment, and hired someone to help with the housework and cooking.
Now, Matthew hung his head, voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “Isabella Austin made me alter Angela’s medical records. She wanted me to fake a diagnosis of late-stage bone cancer, to keep Angela hospitalized and on treatment. She pushed me to prescribe outrageously expensive medications-so expensive Rose Ward couldn’t possibly afford them. Isabella wanted to trap Rose Ward, to use her for something. I don’t know what kind of arrangement they had, but that’s all I know.”
Alex White stared at him, at a complete loss for words. Whatever came out of his mouth next was pure reflex.