On the top floor of the hospital.
The director's office smelled faintly of antiseptic and old paper.
Zachary Forrester sat across from the hospital director with with a relaxed posture like someone always in control. His fingers loosely holding a black fountain pen.
He downed on a black suit tailored within an inch of perfection, his dark hair neatly styled with a face obviously kissed by gods and beautiful blue eyes that seem to draw people in with a small mole right under his right eye. Just precise. He was the kind of man who never rushed and never explained himself twice.
Across from him, the hospital director cleared his throat.
"Mr. Forrester… we've gone through your grandfather's latest tests."
Zachary didn't look up. "And?"
The older man adjusted his glasses. "His liver function is deteriorating. The damage from long-term alcohol consumption is becoming serious."
"He needs to stop drinking immediately. If he doesn't, it will accelerate."
Zachary's fingers finally stopped twirling the pen.
"How serious?" he asked.
"If he continues as he is now?" The director exhaled. "Very."
Silence stretched between them.
Zachary finally lifted his gaze. His blue eyes staring straight at the director were dark, unreadable.
"Understood."
The director nodded slowly. "We'll need to bring him in for a full series of tests. The sooner the better. We can prepare a treatment plan, but we need cooperation."
A faint muscle ticked in Zachary's jaw.
"You know my grandfather would rather be paralyzed than willingly walk into a hospital."
The director gave a sympathetic smile. "Then you'll have to convince him."
Zachary leaned back, rubbing his temples briefly, a headache already forming.
Outside the office, voices suddenly rose in volume.
Shouting.
Excited.
Chaotic.
The director frowned. He turned to the nurse near the door, "What is happening out there?"
The young woman checked her tablet quickly. "Sir, it appears a celebrity was recognized in the outpatient wing. Her fans are causing a scene."
"A hospital is not a concert hall," the director muttered. "Put the security footage on."
The nurse tapped a button. The wall screen flickered to life.
The screen showed the hallway of the obstetrics department, nurses trying to maintain order, and in the middle of the whole ruckus stood a woman. Her blonde hair falling over her shoulders, surrounded by the crowd.
Ben, who had been standing quietly behind Zachary, stiffened.
"…That's Madam Madeline," he said quietly.
Zachary didn't move.
He continued rolling the pen between his fingers.
Ben stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Sir."
Still nothing.
Ben bent slightly, whispering near his shoulder.
"That's Madam Madeline."
Zachary finally lifted his gaze to the screen.
For two seconds.
Maybe three. Madeline was wearing a simple white T shirt with blue jeans, her hair tied to a simple ponytail which enhanced her beautiful face even further. She stood upright against the crowd and didn't look like a damsel in distress instead she looked relaxed and at ease.
His expression did not change, no surprise or recognition, then his eyes dropped back to the pen in his hand.
"I see."
His tone was neutral, bored.
The director glanced between the screen and Zachary, again and again his eyes twinkling clearly curious but too professional to ask.
___
Madeline looked coldly at the crowd forming, they whipped out their phones to take videos ready to spin the narrative to their benefits.
Irritation flashed across her face.
"Madeline how can you break a marriage, cause the loss of a child and comfortably walk around showing no remorse over your actions"
"Yeah, how can you be so cold hearted"
"She probably found out she was pregnant, so she caused the main wife to lose her baby, pueh… scheming bitch"
These harsh words might have hurt the original Madeline, but Rubix didn't care. She just wanted to get to the neurology department, run some tests and find out why she can't remember some things.
Just then, someone slowly brought out a bottle, unscrewed it and threw it at Madeline.
"Go and die, you homewrecker"
Madeline sensed something and dodged quickly using her quick reflexes to kick the bottle to the wall in one swift motion. The liquid splattered all over the wall and onto the table corroding the equipment on the table instantly.
That was clearly Acid.
Everyone shrieked and scattered, the man looked quite shocked at the content of the bottle and tried to make a run for it.
Madeline pulled out a pen from a nurse's pocket and hurled it straight at the back of his head. The man stumbled but kept running, she pushed through the crowd and hit him again, delivering a precise blow to his back.
"Ahhh, stop, please, I didn't know"
Madeline grabbed him and delivered another blow to his stomach.
"Who sent you?" She questioned angrily. This man had clearly wanted to destroy her face,
"Who… Bastard Lee, his wife, who sent you?
Two police officers arrived seconds later. They pushed through the remaining crowd, taking in the scene, nurses shaken, equipment half-melted from acid, and a grown man being held up by a woman half his size.
The man's eyes lit up the moment he saw them.
"Help! Officer, help! Save me from this daredevil!"
One of the policemen looked at the situation.
A full-grown man.
Being held by the collar by a little woman.
His mouth twitched as he tried to suppress a laugh.
"Who beat you up?" the officer asked calmly.
"It's her!" the man shouted, pointing at Madeline. "Arrest her! I want to sue her for intentional damage and emotional trauma!"
Emotional trauma?
Some of the onlookers couldn't help but snort.
Seeing the police present, the man tried to jerk away, planning to make a run for it.
He pulled.
Nothing.
Madeline's grip did not move.
Cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
"You… you let me go this instant!" he barked, though his voice trembled.
Madeline tilted her head slightly, eyes cold, lips curving into a faint smirk.
"As you wish."
She released him.
The man, completely unprepared for the sudden drop, lost his balance.
He fell face-first onto the tiled floor.
A sickening crack echoed.
Everyone winced.
Blood immediately gushed from his nose.
He lay there stunned for two seconds before letting out a shrill scream.
"My nose! My nose!"
One of the officers finally coughed lightly.
"Sir… you asked her to let you go."