Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours! - Chapter 171

Chapter 171: A Grey Problem

Athena downed a bottle of water in one go, the cool liquid refreshing yet insufficient to quell the fatigue weighing down her limbs. She exhaled loudly when she finished, the sound echoing in the quiet of her office.

Feeling increasingly overwhelmed by the daunting stacks of paperwork, she stood up and tossed the empty plastic bottle into the trash can beside her desk. The relentless pressures of work were encroaching, and she desperately needed to escape the confines of her work space, even if only for a moment.

She walked up to the window, peering out at the bustling city below. The skyline shimmered with the golden light of a fading afternoon sun, clouds delicately brushed in hues of pink and orange.

Very beautiful. She thought, before her attention was caught by a Whitman’s ambulance speeding past in a hurry, sirens wailing as it approached the hospital gates.

Her brow furrowed as she mulled over the implications of that scene.

What was happening? She wondered anxiously while eying the commotion below.

If she thought the past week had been busy for the hospital, this week was shaping up to be a nightmare. The resurgence of the Grey disease seemed to create a frenzy, an outbreak that had spiraled beyond anyone’s expectations.

Previous patients were returning for second treatments, those once healed now suffering again. According to the news, entire populations were migrating from infested cities, creating a potential crisis where non-infested areas might soon impose drastic barricades to keep the infected at bay.

Athena sighed, feeling despair cling to her like a damp blanket. This wasn’t looking good for anyone, especially not for her or the hospital she poured herself into every day.

More Grey patients meant more income, yet the suffering etched on the faces of the afflicted gnawed at her conscience. She couldn’t reconcile the moral implications of profiting from their pain, and all she wanted was to help.

The only way to do that, she reasoned, was to uncover the root cause of this spiraling crisis.

Investigations had begun anew in the headquarters, but apathetic bureaucrats in high positions refused to take the issue seriously. So, she and Aiden decided to pursue their inquiries independently.

So far, nothing had turned up. It felt like wading through darkness, too many dead ends and false leads.

Athena placed her forehead against the cool surface of the window, eyes shut tight, and sent out a silent prayer to whatever force governed the universe. She needed help to navigate this overwhelming mess.

Just then, a sharp knock on her door broke her moment of contemplation. Another patient?

She inhaled softly for strength, steeling herself for what was likely to be another arduous consultation. At this point, she was considering showing the other doctors her proposed cure process for the Grey disease.

“Come in!” She called, when the knock sounded again, her voice firm yet echoing with fatigue.

The door creaked open, and Finn stepped inside, his expression somber.

Athena recognized his scent immediately, a blend of antiseptic and ozone—a hallmark of a hard day’s work in the hospital.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” He said with a sense of urgency that made her stomach twist. “We have a problem with patient 409.”

Athena gently hit her forehead against the glass pane, feeling the heat of frustration wash over her.

Focus, Athena. Concentrate. She took a moment to breathe deeply, calming the rising feelings of panic. Turning away, she returned to her desk and slid into her chair, trying to stabilize her rattled nerves.

“Good afternoon, Finn. What exactly is the problem?” She asked, her tone encouraging but edged with tension.

Finn frowned, a regular occurrence since she had begun delegating greater responsibilities to the other doctors. But Athena wasn’t bothered.

“He seems to be convulsing more than usual,” Finn replied. “He also refuses to eat the daily food necessary for his recovery.”

Death. A bitter thought flashed through Athena’s mind, squeezing her heart with apprehension.

Patient 409 was a returning case, a person attempting to combat the insidious grip of the Grey disease. But now, he seemed to have developed a certain resistance to the drugs she had painstakingly created—a development that felt like a personal failure.

“What should we do, ma’am?” Finn’s eyes held both concern and a hint of desperation.

Athena bit her upper lip, contemplating the options—or lack thereof. The only choice left was to return to the drawing board; she needed to reevaluate and upgrade her drugs urgently. The sheer magnitude of effort ahead overwhelmed her, sapping her energy before she even began.

A wave of gratitude washed over her for Old Mr. Thorne and his wife, who had stepped in to help care for the twins during this tumultuous time.

Gianna too was a constant support, stopping by frequently with laughter, warmth, and always a meal that made the twins’ faces light up. It felt incredible to have people she could trust, especially now.

A faint smile graced Athena’s lips as she thought of the Thornes, eliciting a deepening frown from Finn.

What was there to smile about with the growing unrest in the city concerning the Grey disease?

“Just give him a triple dose of the drug,” Athena finally said, her voice laced with resolve while the urgency for action pulsed in her veins.

Finn paused, disbelief flaring in his eyes. “A triple dose? Won’t that kill him?”

Athena looked at him, furrowing her brows in irritation. “It shouldn’t, unless I’m mistaken or it gets tampered.”

Finn’s jaw slackened. “I told you, I didn’t do it.”

“Then stop making me draw those assumptions. A triple dose won’t kill the man. If anything, I hope he’s not resistant to it. I hope it works for him,” She muttered, almost to herself, allowing her voice to sink into a whisper.

Finn calmed himself, hiding the irritation that flickered beneath the surface. He nodded respectfully before turning to exit, the door closing with a soft click behind him.

Athena exhaled, resting her head on the back of her chair, staring emptily at the ceiling tiles.

The investigations surrounding the hospital incidents—those involving Finn and the lab scientists—had yielded nothing but shadows, just like the enigmatic report Old Mr. Thorne had submitted.

She might have pursued it further, maybe handed it over to her children’s brilliant friends, but she just wasn’t up for what it entailed.

Maybe it had all been a mistake.

Another knock sounded at the door, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. What now?

She felt a wave of irritation wash over her, staring at the door as if she could will away the interruption. It seemed ridiculous, considering how many people were counting on her. Yet she didn’t want to deal with more queries or concerns at that moment.

“Come in,” She replied, her voice weary.

Ciara poked her head into the office, her familiar bright smile cutting through the haze. “Good afternoon, ma’am. You have a visitor.”

A visitor? Athena’s mind raced. Who could that be?

Arranging the files on her desk distracted her momentarily, but curiosity was bubbling up within her. “Who is it?”

“Mr. Sandro,” Ciara replied, her tone clipped, hinting at urgency. “He mentioned it is urgent.”

“Send him in, then,”