Chapter 11 A Clash at Pinecrest Hospital

The nurse nearby failed to stop Preston, and upon hearing Howard's audacious words, she sneered loudly, "You really know how to brag. You're in big trouble today!" Preston had gone upstairs for less than ten minutes when he returned, followed by an elderly man in a dark green robe and a younger man wearing gold-rimmed glasses. The elder was none other than Harold, the founder of Pinecrest Hospital, his face flushed with anger, fists tightly clenched. Preston had created this chaos—he had injured several security guards stationed outside Harold's consultation room. When Quinn glanced at the young man standing next to Harold, her eyes widened in shock, and her face turned pale. She immediately averted her gaze and lowered her head nervously. "Well, I didn't believe it at first, but it really is Yorkhaven's beauty, Quinn. Oh wait, not a beauty anymore—an ugly freak now." The young man taunted with a smirk. Harold turned his head to ask the young man, "Mr. Drake, do you know Quinn?" "Of course I do," Patrick sneered. "This ungrateful woman! A few years ago, I didn't mind that she had a child and was willing to marry her into the Drake family." But on the day of the engagement, this idiot took a knife and slashed her own face, turning herself into an ugly freak." As he spoke, Patrick fixed his mocking gaze on Quinn and continued loudly, "Quinn, with that ugly face of yours, do you really think you deserve Mr. Finch's help? You think bringing some random thug to stir up trouble will get the job done?" His scornful tone deepened as he shot a disdainful glance at Howard. The truth was that Patrick had been harboring resentment for years. Three years ago, he was attracted to Quinn's beauty and valued the Vaughn family's influence. The Drake family was even willing to arrange a marriage alliance. But Quinn, determined to reject the proposal, marred her face on the day of the engagement. The Drake family left in fury, humiliated, and the Vaughn family's patriarch was equally enraged. After failing to secure the alliance, Yvonne expelled Quinn and Bianca from the family, forcing them to move to the Xandria Farmers' Market. At this moment, Howard stood up, his sharp gaze fixed on Patrick. He asked coldly, "Is Quinnie's disfigurement your doing?" Patrick glanced at Howard and burst into laughter. "Oh, what a scary look you have there. And who the hell are you? Let me guess—you're the one who sent that fat guy upstairs to cause trouble, right?" He was, of course, referring to Preston. Howard suddenly chuckled and shifted his gaze to Harold, who was still fuming. "Let's set everything else aside for now. Let's treat her first." Harold froze momentarily before shouting in anger, "You injured my people and still expect me to treat you? Dream on. Unless you give me an explanation, none of you are leaving today." Patrick snorted, annoyed that Howard had ignored him. "Mr. Finch, leave these pests to me. No need to get angry over small fry like them." Patrick had come to the hospital early that day to seek prescriptions for his health issues. Upon hearing Quinn's name, his curiosity had led him downstairs. As someone accustomed to pride and privilege, Patrick couldn't stomach being disregarded. He pulled out his phone and made a call, raising his voice deliberately. "Get in here now and teach these clueless idiots a lesson!" Hearing Patrick's words, Harold remained silent. He was well aware of the Drake family's influence and knew that Patrick always traveled with bodyguards. Howard glanced at Patrick, his fingers tapping lightly on the sofa. He spoke softly, "Preston, throw him out." "You wouldn't dare!" Patrick yelled, his eyes wide with fury. "Do you know who I am? If anyone touches me today, I'll—" Before he could finish, Preston grabbed him by the top of his head, yanking with such force that Patrick's scalp felt like it was being torn off. Screaming in pain, Patrick was dragged out. "What the hell? It hurts!" A muffled thump and a scream echoed from outside. Moments later, Preston returned. Witnessing this, Harold's expression shifted dramatically. He pointed at Howard and shouted furiously, "You even dared to throw Mr. Drake out! You really have a death wish, don't you?" "Treat Quinnie," Howard replied calmly, still seated like a king on his throne, "or I'll tear down your hospital." Harold burst into laughter. "Arrogant, aren't you? My hospital has been around for over a decade, treating high-ranking officials and wealthy elites." "Go ahead and try tearing it down! If you dare touch a tile here, I'll make sure you rot in prison." Seeing the situation spiral out of control, Quinn turned to Howard with a frown. "Please stop. Can we just leave?" She then bowed deeply to Harold, her voice trembling. "I am so sorry, Mr. Finch. I won't seek treatment anymore. Please don't be angry." Harold snorted coldly, casting a sidelong glance at Quinn. "At least you know—" "Smash it," Howard interrupted, spitting out the single word.