My nails dug hard into my palms as I tried to defend myself.

"Dr. Rapport, those are all lies. And more importantly, I'm at a crucial stage in my career right now…"

Julian sighed. "Do you think I don't know they're lies? But the hospital's phones were ringing off the hook this morning, with demands that we provide an explanation.

"As for your promotion review… Let's talk about it again in five years."

I felt my nose sting. I'd already waited five years for that promotion. How many more five-year periods could I wait?

It wasn't hard to guess who was behind the social media post. It was Tyson's usual way of operating. He wanted to ruin me and made sure I could never recover from this.

Swallowing the bitterness, I forced myself to accept the reality and left the office, only to be met with a swarm of furious family members of patients.

One of them raised his hand and slapped me across the face, roaring, "A doctor with a personal life as messy as yours doesn't deserve to work in a hospital! Someone just told me that you've been so attentive to my mother because you're after her pension!

"I actually thought you genuinely cared for the elderly. Turns out, you're just vile!"

The same family members who had once been so grateful to me now looked at me with the most hateful and contemptuous expressions.

From among the crowd, Tyson and Solana—the people behind all this—walked toward me hand in hand. Both of them wore identical mocking smiles.

"Ty already tried to talk some sense into you," Solana said coldly. "It was all for your own good, but you refused to listen. And now you're reaping what you sowed. Serves you right!"

Tyson's eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he looked at me. Then he addressed the crowd in a self-righteous tone, "Terrible people like him always get what's coming to them. Don't worry, everyone, I'll demand justice on behalf of you all! I'll get this gold-digging man kicked out of the hospital, never to be hired again!"

Thunderous applause exploded around him.

Solana lifted her chin arrogantly and said to me, "Ty has already contacted the other three sugar mamas in your phone and told them the whole truth. They all said they would confront you in person. We've formed a victims' alliance and hired lawyers. You can wait to be served!"

I couldn't believe my ears. They had contacted my mother and sisters—people who doted on me endlessly—to sue me?

Tyson saw the surprise on my face and mistook it for fear. He continued adding fuel to the fire.

"Let me tell you—I've handled countless fake heir cases like this, and these wealthy elites truly are the best at tormenting people.

"When they come for you, they'll disfigure you and send you off to the brothels to be played with. You'll waste the rest of your days away there! They'll be here soon. Just you wait!"

I curved my lips into a knowing smile.

"Alright, I'll wait for them. But you two had better not run off!"

Not five minutes later, a middle-aged woman walked into the hospital flanked by two younger women. More than a dozen bodyguards cleared the way for them, advancing aggressively.

Tyson hurried forward with an appeasing smile and greeted the older woman in front of him.

"You must be Ms. Sherman. The fake heir is right there! We've already taught him a little lesson, but we'll leave the heavy lifting to you. After all, you're the biggest victims here."

The woman stopped in her tracks, raised her hand, and slapped Tyson hard across his face.

"So you're the one who accused my son of being a homewrecker?" she asked icily.