Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir by Ryker Helios

37. Why people are so judgmental?

I’ve never wanted to strangle someone so badly.

By now the other nurses in the reception are also paying their attention to us, and most of them had varying expressions on their faces. Some looked pissed off while others looked sympathetic. But none of them came forward to rectify the nurse who was talking to me.

Her name tag reads Clara.

“Fine, then,” I grow!, “I will pay for everything. Add all the charges to my account. I’ll give you all the information.”

The nurse’s mouth quirks downwards, and she gives me a distasteful look. For a split second, I wonder. what I must look like. Somehow, I’d lost my jacket, and the light blue shirt that I wore underneath was covered with blood and grime. My hands are covered with blood as well, drying in the temperature of the room. My hair is disheveled from the wind and running my fingers through it. My expression must be close to insane. I don’t even want to think about the state of my pants and shoes.

I really need to take a shower to even gain a semblance of normalcy and sanity.

But that is no reason for her to judge me the way she is clearly doing. Clara seems to be awfully judgmental.

“Forgive me, sir,” she says in a tone that does not feel forgivable, “but I have some reservations. Perhaps. it would be better if we wait for the patient’s parents to arrive before going on further. You do not seem to be the soundest person to make decisions on behalf of the patient, given your situation.”

“What?”

“You’re clearly shocked. Perhaps you should sit down?”

I reply, trying my hardest to keep my cool, “I will not be sitting down anytime soon, nurse Clara. Please put my name down

I might need to call security. You are not the patient’s family or legal guardian to make decisions on her

“I’m her boss!”

scalp, “somehow,

her more thoroughly. I will never let myself stoop low enough to beat a woman. But I see a warning sign go off in her eyes, and she purses her lips before pressing a red colored button on her desk. Then she talks to the microphone in front

man at the reception table. Please come and escort

not threatening you! What the hell, I just

out of the hospital, even when I try to comply with them. As we near the main entrance,

kind of a hospital is this? Was it specifically built to cater douchebags? And to

to myself and fish out my phone from my pocket and angrily punch at number in my contacts, which added about twelve days ago at the insistent of one of

struck a conversation with throughout the boringly formal affair. After a few rings,

takes the call.

you!” the man on the other end exclaims, “are you

a problem here, and I believe you’re the only person

mean, my newest friend?”

of my employees wounded up-no pun intended- in your hospital after a goddamned shootout, and she got a little dispute with her insurance policy, so I asked your lovely reception nurses to put her charges to my account,” I explain, “but they refused.”