Sad Tears 82

“I’ll ask you one last time–who was behind this?” 

A sudden chill surged in Joaquin’s eyes, and the pressure around him dropped even further. 

Romina’s gaze landed on Joaquin’s face. 

It was the first time she had ever seen such a terrifying aura on Joaquin’s face. 

It seemed he was truly angry now. 

Romina’s expression darkened as she looked up at Elliott. “This incident not only affects my clinic’s reputation, but could also call our doctors‘ integrity into question. If you tell me the truth, I can let you off the hook. Otherwise, I’ll call the police.” 

“No one put me up to it.” Elliott insisted, “If you want to call the police, go ahead!” 

A cold, sharp smile suddenly curled at Joaquin’s lips. “Refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit?” 

At that moment, Erick, who had just dropped his child off at school, arrived at the scene. 

He came over and lowered his voice to greet, “Mr. Bowman.” 

Joaquin lifted his gaze and looked toward Erick. “Erick, clear the place out. I want to have a word with him alone.” 

“Alright.” 

After receiving the order, Erick quickly began to disperse the crowd, forcing even the onlookers out. 

Even Elliott’s mother, Lexie, and the others were all driven out. 

Now, only Romina’s closest people remained in the wellness clinic. 

Elliott was tall and burly, but with Joaquin standing beside him, most of his arrogance had vanished. 

“Causing trouble on the very first day of opening, and you expect me to believe no one put you up to it?” Joaquin reached out with his long, jointed fingers, grabbed Elliott’s head, and yanked his hair back. “You think I’ll believe that?” 

It was the first time Romina had seen Joaquin lay hands on someone, and his aura was even more intim- 

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idating than usual. 

Normally, he was just cold–natured, but now he was like a leopard stalking the night, exuding a fierce aggressiveness. 

“No one really put me up to it!” 

Elliott kept shaking his head, his voice dropping much lower. 

Miguel said angrily, “Then explain to us–what were you smiling about?” 

He moved the laptop in front of the man, pointing at the screen, the coldness in his eyes deepening. 

“I…” 

Elliott still refused to tell the truth. 

“Romina has never even met you. What grudge do you have against her that you’d resort to such tac- tics?” Elliana fumed. “Her naturopathy is among the best in all of Straland, and you dare to publicly question her?” 

Elliott still kept his mouth shut about the truth. 

Joaquin suddenly let go of him, then looked toward Erick. “Erick, he won’t tell the truth. What do you think we should do?” 

Erick nodded instinctively. “Leave it to me.” 

Before Romina could react, she saw Erick grab the man’s arm and drag him toward the treatment room. “Ms. Sandoval, may I borrow your treatment room?” 

Immediately after, Erick closed the door from the inside. 

“Bang-” 

The loud slam echoed deafeningly, reverberating through every corner of the wellness clinic. 

Everyone’s gaze turned toward the direction of the treatment room. 

No one knew what Erick intended to do. 

It wasn’t until Elliott’s howling screams came from inside that Romina realized something was wrong, 

“Mr. Bowman, maybe we should call the police! He’s already allergic and just woke up from shock. If he gets hurt now, it could be very dangerous.” 

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Romina looked nervously at Joaquin, a trace of worry flickering in her eyes. 

Elliana chimed in, “Yes! Maybe we should just call the police!” 

Joaquin sat in the consultation chair, his long arm resting on the desk, the ring on his finger tapping lightly on the tabletop. 

Once, twice, three times… 

The rhythm was so precise that everyone present hardly dared to breathe. 

After a moment, he spoke in a cold, indifferent tone. “Forgiving the enemy is being cruel to yourself.” 

As his words fell, the man lifted his phoenix–like eyes, meeting Romina’s anxious face. 

Seeing that Romina didn’t respond, he spoke again. “Didn’t Ms. Castro say that Ms. Sandoval’s medical skills are among the best in all of Straland? Even if my people injure him, with Ms. Sandoval’s abilities, she can snatch him back from the hands of death.” 

Miguel looked at the unhurried Joaquin, wanting to speak but stopping himself. 

If this beating continues, forget Romi–even if a miracle doctor were here, it would be hopeless… 

“I’ll ask you one last time. Will you talk or not?” 

At that moment, an extremely sharp voice suddenly came from inside. 

Hearing the sound, Romina looked up and saw a truly terrifying scene. 

The glass of the treatment room was frosted, allowing the general outlines inside to be seen. 

It was clear that Erick’s hand was raised slightly, and he seemed to be holding a sharp, knife–like object. 

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Romina looked nervously at Joaquin, a trace of worry flickering in her eyes. 

Elliana chimed in, “Yes! Maybe we should just call the police!” 

288 Vouchers 

Joaquin sat in the consultation chair, his long arm resting on the desk, the ring on his finger tapping lightly on the tabletop. 

Once, twice, three times… 

The rhythm was so precise that everyone present hardly dared to breathe. 

After a moment, he spoke in a cold, indifferent tone. “Forgiving the enemy is being cruel to yourself.” 

As his words fell, the man lifted his phoenix–like eyes, meeting Romina’s anxious face. 

Seeing that Romina didn’t respond, he spoke again. “Didn’t Ms. Castro say that Ms. Sandoval’s medical skills are among the best in all of Straland? Even if my people injure him, with Ms. Sandoval’s abilities, she can snatch him back from the hands of death.” 

Miguel looked at the unhurried Joaquin, wanting to speak but stopping himself. 

If this beating continues, forget Romi–even if a miracle doctor were here, it would be hopeless… 

“I’ll ask you one last time. Will you talk or not?” 

At that moment, an extremely sharp voice suddenly came from inside. 

Hearing the sound, Romina looked up and saw a truly terrifying scene. 

The glass of the treatment room was frosted, allowing the general outlines inside to be seen. 

It was clear that Erick’s hand was raised slightly, and he seemed to be holding a sharp, knife–like object. 

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