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Beauty Clinic Debut: My 84-Year-Old Grandma On The Table Novel Cover

Beauty Clinic Debut: My 84-Year-Old Grandma On The Table

After discovering an impossible surgery charge on his bedridden grandmother's card, a man uncovers a web of lies. His investigation leads to a plastic surgery clinic run by his own wife, Stella Watson. Despite her dismissive excuses, he suspects a deeper conspiracy involving infidelity and financial fraud. Seeking justice, he turns to his father in the Department of Commerce to seize the hospital as compensation for his wife's betrayal and their impending divorce.
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Chapter 1

The supplementary card I've issued for my grandmother shows that an eight-thousand-dollar purchase has taken place in another city. But the transaction records show that the money is used on hymenoplasty.

I'm shell-shocked, to say the least.

Grandma is 84 years old this year. She's been bedridden and paralyzed for years. Why would she even get hymenoplasty done on her, to begin with?

But when my investigation leads me to a plastic surgery hospital, I find out that my wife, Stella Watson, is actually the lead doctor of said clinic. So, I call her to demand answers from her.

However, Stella refuses to answer my questions properly.

"Don't worry, honey. Something's most likely wrong with the system. Betsy is already this old—why would she have her hymen repaired?"

That's just a bullshit answer coming from her. She seriously thinks I'm gullible enough to believe her.

I merely huff coldly in return before calling my dad, who works in the Department of Commerce.

"Dad, Stella is most likely cheating on me. I want her plastic surgery hospital as compensation for my impending divorce!"

I jerked the steering wheel to the side, pulling the car to a stop in front of a newly opened plastic surgery hospital.

The trees on either side of the hospital entrance were adorned with colorful ribbons and balloons. There was also a poster prominently displayed at the entrance, featuring a "husband and wife" in scrubs and in the midst of performing surgery.

However, it was precisely this poster that instantly ignited my anger.

The woman in the poster was my wife, Stella Watson, but the man in the mask next to her was someone else.

I stormed into the hospital at once.

Just a while later, I noticed Stella and that man standing outside the operating room while being surrounded and interviewed by countless reporters and media. When I caught sight of the man's face next to her, I felt my breath catch in my throat.

Wasn't that Drake Fletcher, Stella's brother-in-law?

"Dr. Watson! What's the secret to the loving relationship that you and your husband have maintained for so many years?"

A reporter's question quickly drew me back to the present, and I balled my fists even tighter.

Stella just laughed happily under everyone's curious gazes and hugged Drake ever closer to her.

"Our marriage is as stable as ever because I make sure to keep our exchanges fresh and exciting every single day," she said. "Otherwise, even the most loving couple would get tired of each other after more than ten years. Don't you think so?"

Tired of each other?

We had been married for ten years, and yet, Stella had stayed separately from me for five years because of "work". And now, she was telling the world that it was because she was keeping things "fresh and exciting" for other men instead?

At once, I barged my way through the crowd, rushed up to her, and slapped her hard on the face.

The slap was loud and echoed throughout the room, nearly drowning out the clicks of the camera shutters around us.

"Stella Watson! You're saying that your so-called freshness and excitement is by having an affair with your own brother-in-law?"

Five years ago, Stella's older sister, Stephanie Watson, had died of a terminal illness, and Drake had no choice but to seek refuge in Jondavia out of desperation.

I took pity on him because he was all alone, and so I gave him a job as a caretaker to my grandmother, Betsy Mallory, and paid him a salary of 40 thousand dollars a year.

But now, it turned out that he was having an affair with my wife!

The slap was loud and resounding, and the reporters and media went into a frenzy as the flashes and camera shutters kept going off.

Yet, when Stella first caught sight of me, her expression tensed, and her lips turned pale as well.

However, before I could tear into her facade any further, Drake suddenly shoved me off and yelled, "Lucas Greene! What are you doing? Who told you to come here to look for her?"

He hollered at me like he was Stella's rightful husband instead, and I was the third wheel.

I staggered backward and saw Drake shielding Stella behind him, his face filled with terror.

Also, his yelling seemed to have relieved Stella as she regained her usual coldness and said, "Lucas, you're going overboard. Get out of the way! This is not a place where you should be!"

Stella's eyes were sharp as she faced the crowd of reporters with full confidence.

"I'm sorry for the minor disruption, everyone. This man is the caretaker I hired to look after my parents, and he's a little cuckoo in the head as of late…"

Me? Cuckoo?

Just yesterday, she was all nestled in my arms, asking me if we should think about having a baby together. But now, she had turned into a complete stranger in a hilariously terrifying way. Brilliant, just brilliant!

"Stella Watson, I dare you to repeat that to me again. Who is the caretaker and who is your rightful husband here?"

I immediately retrieved a photo of my marriage certificate on my phone and showed it to the reporters, also showing them the messages and call logs between us.

Stella's pupils constricted sharply, but before she could say a word, Drake suddenly fell to the ground, his eyes red-rimmed, and began rebuking me disapprovingly.

"Lucas! I know that you were assaulted by those crazy gangsters back then, which drove you completely insane, but you can't just doctor a wedding certificate with my wife and use it against her like this!"

With Drake misleading the public on purpose, Stella began regaining her composure as color returned to her complexion.

"That's enough! How many more times must you show that fake certificate in public?"

She then ran up to me, grabbed my phone, and flung it to the ground until it broke.

"You're out of your mind! How many times do I need to explain to you that men don't have a hymen! There's no use for you to keep threatening me like that!

"I might be a plastic surgeon, but I can't repair the damage you suffered from being raped by another man!"

Stella's words immediately turned the reporters' hesitation and curiosity into that of utter contempt and mockery toward me.

"Aw, look who couldn't take it just because he got raped by a man! And yet, he's begging Dr. Watson to restore him? Idiot!"

"Did he think that if he restored his 'hymen', he wouldn't be defiled anymore? Hahaha!"

I could no longer hold back my anger as the crowd around me continued laughing and jeering at me.

I grabbed Drake's work ID, which had my name written on it, and said in a voice louder than all the others, "Drake Fletcher, did you really think that you automatically became a medical student just because you're now using my name instead?

"My name is Lucas Greene, and I'm from the Greene family. I bet you know what it means that I have that as my last name!" I said, turning to look at Stella with cold, steely eyes.

"Stella Watson, have you forgotten whose money this hospital was founded upon and built with?"

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