He Put Grandpa in ICU, Yet My Wife Defends Him

After dodging the reporters with great effort, I finally went home to wash up before heading to the hospital to see Grandpa.

Since the trial videos had already been blasted everywhere, people were pointing fingers at me the whole way. Nathan, the one who had committed the violence, had been painted as the victim.

Meanwhile, Grandpa had been twisted from a true victim into a shameless, money-grubbing old man. He lay in the hospital bed as several doctors were preparing to disconnect the ventilator and monitoring equipment.

I rushed forward swiftly and stopped them. "Hey, what are you guys doing? Who told you to take them off?"

I couldn't even imagine what would've happened if I had arrived a little later.

"Mr. Sharp, right? We have yet to do anything. You should know that payment is due—otherwise, stopping medication is a normal protocol," one doctor said, glancing at a few burly men standing behind him.

They were dressed like security guards and looked like trouble.

"I didn't say I wasn't paying! You should've communicated with me beforehand!" I snapped, my anger matching my tone.

The doctor retreated two steps. "We've already spoken with Ms. Backman. She said that until you admit your mistake, no fees will be paid."

Hearing that, I felt like someone had smashed a hammer into my skull.

Whitney had invested in this hospital, and the care here had been excellent. With her money backing it, I had never even considered transferring Grandpa elsewhere. Now, it had turned into a double-edged sword.

"Wow. He has no shame. He's even using his wife's money to nurse his grandpa. Talk about being a leech!"

"Right? He disgusts me."

"Well, considering they were trying to pull a scam, it's not that surprising that he's doing this."

"You're so right. I can't believe I have to be warded in the same room as them."

…

The noise around us only grew louder.

Grandpa looked at me with helplessness and sorrow in his eyes. While the trial was going on, he had fortunately woken up. From bits and pieces he heard from others, he had somewhat pieced together what had happened.

I opened my mouth several times, wanting to explain, but the crowd was too worked up and furious to hear what I had to say. They just wanted us gone.

"What's the outstanding balance? I'll pay," I told the doctor.

I still had savings. Every dime was money I had earned through my own hard work. To save Grandpa, I was willing to spend them all.

However, when I swiped my card, the payment failed.

"Are you messing with us?" the doctor snapped. "You don't even have any money! If you can't pay, just get out!"

His voice was loud, and with several security guards standing nearby, he grew even more aggressive.

Panic flooded my mind. I hurriedly called Whitney and questioned, "Did you transfer all my money away?"

The secondary card for that account was with her. I had given it to her so she would know I wasn't just living off her money. It wasn't much compared to what her company earned, but it was everything I had.

I never imagined that I would be the one handing her the knife to stab me with.

"Yeah, I did. So what? You think the treatment costs were covered by themselves? I'm only taking back what's mine. What's the problem?"

Her voice was lazy, almost dismissive, but if I listened closely, I could hear her uneven breathing.

I couldn't hold back and shouted, "Do you have to do this now? I'm trying to save Grandpa with that money! You're not even short on cash!"

"You're right. I'm not," she said coldly. "But if you don't apologize to Nathan, I won't return a single penny."

Her words carried a clear threat, but her breathing became ragged immediately afterward, accompanied by a sticky, wet sound.

"I gave you a chance, so cherish it," she added, then hung up. Even saying that last line seemed difficult for her, like she was letting out tiny moans with it.

My face darkened. I knew exactly what she was doing.

Before I could react, the doctor seized the moment and yanked out Grandpa's IV. "If you can't pay, get discharged right now."

"Hey! You're hurting him!"

I had wanted to say more, but a few men suddenly barged in. "Are you Harlan Sharp?"

I nodded, staring at them with confusion.

"Take him."

The man raised his chin arrogantly. His subordinates stepped forward and dragged Grandpa straight off the bed. I lunged at them with fury, but two people held me back.

"What are you guys doing? Let go of my grandpa!"

"Let him go? In your dreams. He deserves to be put on trial!"

With that, they forcefully took Grandpa away. I couldn't chase after them even if I wanted to, for they had pinned me down. It wasn't until Grandpa was out of sight that they finally released me.

I bolted out of the hospital, not giving up just yet, only to be dragged into an alley.

"That's him, right?"

Two guys who looked like street thugs stood there with cigarettes dangling from their mouths, leaning lazily as they sized me up and compared me to a photo on a phone. "In the flesh."

Before I could react, they swung a punch into my face. Pain exploded all across my body, and I began trembling. I couldn't do anything other than shield my head.

"Alright. That's enough. A little lesson will do. We can't afford to kill anyone."

"I don't think anyone will care, though. No one who messes with Mr. Larsson will end up well."

"Don't be too certain. He's Whitney's husband, after all."

"Come on. She's obviously into Mr. Larsson. Why would she care if this dude lives or not?"

…

Their conversation rang in my ears until everything blurred into a shrill buzzing. Wave after wave of weakness washed over me. I felt like I was about to die, so exhausted I couldn't even move a finger.

Grandpa had enlisted when he was barely a teenager. He had fought countless battles, even contributing to the Northern Aid Campaign.

Dad was an anti-narcotics officer. He worked undercover for 13 years and died a hero when the operation finally closed. Mom was a firefighter, killed in the line of duty during a mountain wildfire rescue.

I had always been proud of my family, so why had a family like ours been reduced to this?

"What happened to him? Should we take him to the hospital?" a female voice asked.

The man beside her stopped her. "Don't. Haven't you heard about that old man who tried to scam Nathan Larsson recently? Think twice before you do anything, or he might extort you, too."

Eventually, their footsteps faded farther and farther away. I felt like I was about to vomit blood.

No. I couldn't let Grandpa carry this kind of disgrace. I had to change everything and make the people who wronged him bow their heads and apologize.

The only thing that might be able to change all of this… was that.