Flash Marriage To The Dangerous Billionaire - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

Depression?
Although not a psychology specialist, Hallie found it hard to reconcile Regina's mood swings with genuine depression.
But whether Regina faked it or not was irrelevant to her... so long as Regina didn't come to make trouble for her.
"No, I don't know. You need a professional psychologist. Just take her for a consultation."
Nelson thought, 'I'm hinting to her that I have another woman. If Hallie wants to keep her title and position, she'll challenge Regina for sure.'
Nelson had brought Regina up expecting at least a flicker of jealousy or hostility on Hallie's face, but she still remained blank.
'Does she really not care about the title of Mrs. Blair?' The thought didn't please Nelson as he'd expected, though he couldn't fathom why.
Maybe it was the novelty of meeting a woman who defied him at every turn?
'Yes, that's it, just novelty.' The conclusion eased his confusion.
Then he murmured in his heart, 'Fine. Since she helped deal with my wound, I'll grudgingly give her another favor.'
"Let's go," he said, his magnetic voice dropping to a lower register, its unexpected timbre oddly soothing.
"Where to?" Hallie frowned.
Nelson's lips quirked in a faint smile, his eyes darkening. "Do you want to keep taking this crap?"
"Are you... offering to help?" Hallie finally realized what he intended to do.
Nelson gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Yes."
"I don't need it." Her tone was flat, verging on dismissive.
Nelson's face froze, caught off guard by the rejection. "What did you say?"
She didn't want to owe Nelson any more favors. Not after he'd stepped in to shield her from the flying flowerpot. She'd rather bear the burden alone, unshackled by the psychological weight of those debts.
"I said, I don't need your help. I can handle it." Hallie's voice stayed calm.
"You alone?" Nelson scoffed.
"Mr. Blair, while I might not share your business prowess, my mind works just fine."
Ever since spotting the tampered prescription, Hallie had known what she should do next.
By now, news of her "botched prescription" and the patient's near-death had spread through the hospital.
Some patients who had benefited from Hallie's care were shocked by the ordeal. Unable to tolerate the verbal abuse directed at her, they came forward to defend her.
Within an hour, two opposing factions had formed, and even the media, sensing the rising tension, flocked to the scene to fuel the chaos.
Clarissa returned from an ambulance run to find reporters blocking the entrance of the hospital.
After hearing the story, she refused to believe Hallie could make such a mistake.
"Hallie, how are you going to handle this? The patients are demanding answers. They want you held accountable." Her voice quavered with worry.
"Look at this. Can you tell who wrote this?" Hallie handed her the tampered prescription.
"Isn't it your..." Clarissa stopped mid-sentence.
As her best friend, she was familiar with Hallie's handwriting. While some characters on the prescription bore a passing resemblance, a closer look revealed strokes that were rigid.
Instantly, Clarissa realized what was going on. "Shit, someone imitated your handwriting to frame you!"
"Most likely." Hallie turned to Nelson. "If we can prove this isn't my writing, things will be easier."
"Well, you think her word will clear you?" His eyes bored into her like she was an idiot.
Ignoring him, Hallie said to Clarissa, "Not many could pull this off without anyone noticing. Perhaps they gained the family's trust at the pharmacy, then tampered with the prescription after obtaining it.
"Or used their access to retrieve medications for the patient while altering my prescription."
"Then what can we do?" Clarissa spun around nervously, her voice taut.
Hallie was deeply moved—even as she faced public outrage, Clarissa's unwavering trust and constant thoughtfulness remained her anchor.
"Clarissa, please help me check the security footage. Pull the record from my office to the pharmacy for the past two hours, and get the pharmacy shift roster."
"On it." Clarissa didn't hesitate, leaving without asking more.
"Even if the security cameras catch something, it won't be concrete proof," Nelson interjected, his tone dismissive.
"I know surveillance isn't enough. We need to interview the people involved and get every detail."
Nelson fell silent, torn between irritation and confusion. He thought, 'She'd rather risk getting hurt than accept my help?'
"Think about it: he threw a flower pot today. What if next time it's a knife or acid? I don't want a disfigured wife."
"I know what I am doing."
Hallie's voice was flat, her demeanor strangely composed. "What if he throws a knife at me? Do yourself a favor, Mr. Blair, stay clear. You stepped in for your grandfather's sake, right? No need to overdo it. We'll part ways in six months, anyway."
"So you think I crossed the line by protecting you?" Nelson's voice was deceptively calm, but a steely edge lurked beneath.
She wondered, 'Is there a problem with his comprehension ability?'
"Mr. Blair, I'm concerned for you. Look, you're already injured."
In truth, she just tried to avoid more trouble, but Hallie wouldn't admit that to Nelson.
Somehow, Nelson's brows unfurrowed. Then, returning to his arrogant stance, he snorted coldly.
"Hmph, you're overthinking. Do you really think I'd keep protecting you even to the point of taking a knife for you? I don't need your concern."
Meanwhile, the middle-aged man railed against Hallie to the media, camera shutters clicking furiously. Hungry for tomorrow's front-page story, reporters leaned in, using leading questions to twist his words.
This was how truths became distortions.
"Mr. Patel, may I have a word with you?"