The Downfall Of The Darling

Dr. Benson’s face flushed with frustration, the veins in his neck visibly pulsing as his anger intensified. His eyes locked onto Blair as he exclaimed, “You think you can stand there with that smug expression and talk about your pretentious integrity, Blair?” His voice trembled with barely restrained rage. “Let me remind you of where you are. The University of Uriel isn’t some back-alley medical school! It is one of the most prestigious institutions in the world, producing top-ranking doctors, surgeons, and researchers. We are globally recognized for our academic excellence, and you dare to accuse our faculty—me—of incompetence?”

His words hung in the air like a thundercloud, heavy with accusation. Blair, however, did not flinch. She remained seated, her arms resting comfortably on her lap.

“Your arrogance is astounding,” Dr. Benson continued, his voice rising as his emotions surged. “You disrupt our classes, slander your professors, and yet you expect us to tolerate this behavior as if it were an intellectual rebellion? Your actions are not a brave stand for academic integrity; they are immature, reckless, and a complete disgrace!”

He took a deep breath, attempting to control his temper but failing miserably. His fists clenched as he leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Blair, who defiantly met his gaze.

“And I know exactly what this is about,” he hissed, a twisted smirk curling his lips. “Let’s not pretend that your tantrums and accusations are purely academic, Blair. We both know the real reason behind your absurd crusade against the Faculty of Medicine is because you weren’t selected for the International Medical Conference. And you know precisely why. It wasn’t because of bias, nor was it part of some grand conspiracy against you. It was because your answers lacked the depth and theoretical foundation necessary for selection. The test questions required thorough, well-supported responses, yet you fell short.”

Dr. Benson straightened his back, smoothing his tie with trembling hands as he surveyed the room, gauging the reactions of his colleagues. He knew many faculty members shared his sentiment, feeling that Blair had overstepped his bounds and publicly embarrassed them. In his view, his outburst was not only justified but also essential.

Kennedy Wilson’s expression was an impenetrable wall as he gazed at the granddaughter he had disowned. His jaw clenched, and his lips formed a thin line, providing no comfort or protection for her—only an icy neutrality.

He could hardly believe that the young woman before him was the same Blair who had once lived in the Wilson mansion, surrounded by constant praise. She was once the epitome of privilege, a people-pleaser whose laughter often masked her fragility; a single word of criticism could shatter her like glass.

But now, as people hurled harsh accusations at her from all sides, she faced them with a measured, almost unnerving calm. There were no hysterics, no tearful pleas for validation, as she had once done. She stood there, unflinching, listening to the onslaught of condemnation with a composure that seemed impossible for the granddaughter he remembered.

“I have a simple request,” she began, her tone sharp yet composed. “I would like you to take a moment to read my letters of complaint thoroughly. Can anyone here point out a single instance where I accused Dr. Benson of being unfair to his students, particularly to me?”

She allowed her question to linger in the air, her gaze shifting between the officials as she waited for someone to respond.

Blair’s calm gaze swept over the room as she continued, her voice steady yet imbued with a tone of quiet conviction.

“I want to make something clear,” she stated. “I didn’t feel the need to question the results of the International Medical Conference selection because I am confident I had excelled in that test. However, I chose not to take any action. Why?” she inquired, her eyes scanning the faces of the officials. “I didn’t want to be the one to cause that kind of disruption, especially knowing how hard they had worked. It was more important to protect their sense of accomplishment than to challenge a process I recognized had flaws. I want to be considerate, even if it meant stepping aside.”

Blair offered the chancellor a brief, polite smile, sufficient to convey her respect for the hierarchy without submitting to it.

Then, with a smooth and deliberate motion, she shifted her gaze to Dr. Benson, her expression sharpening ever so slightly, signaling that her attention was now entirely focused on him.

“Anyway, Dr. Benson, now that you’ve pointed out that my answers lacked depth and theoretical support, something just came to mind.”

She paused, feigning deep contemplation before continuing, “Oh, yes! I just remembered that book you recently published about the theories of medical decision making.” Her voice was warm with insincere recollection. “Funny thing, though... some theories in your book seemed remarkably familiar.”

Blair reached into her pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of papers. “You see, these papers contain my answers from the quizzes in my first and second years. Well, what do you know? My answers, which were supposedly ‘lacking’ in depth and theoretical backing, seem to have made their way into a published without my credit.”

The moment she held up the folded papers, Benson’s composure wavered.

Across the room, the esteemed university personnel exchanged glances that oscillated between embarrassment and amusement. Kennedy’s secretary stifled a snicker, transforming it into a cough, clearly surprised by Blair’s unexpected boldness.

Blair’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a profound seriousness that cast an unsettling weight over the room. “But really, Dr. Benson, why are you insisting that I’ve slandered your name to other students?” She fixed her steely gaze on him, her eyes unwavering. “All I did was file a formal complaint—one that I kept strictly between us and the faculty—because I sought resolutions. I never intended to tarnish your reputation.”

Her voice lowering as she continued, “For the record, I didn’t speak behind you or the faculty of medicine’s back. All my so-called friends were focused on their own ambitions, completely ignoring me. So, who I should talk to?”

The tension in the room intensified as her words hung in the air, an undeniable truth that pierced the heart of the situation.

Blair took a deep breath, the atmosphere in the room shifting with her words as she prepared to deliver her final bombshell. “And speaking of slander, I must ask—why didn’t you, Dr. Benson, call a meeting to interrogate those students when they claimed that the only way to pass your exam and receive a passing grade on their research project was to spend a night with you?”

The atmosphere in the room became electric, a palpable shockwave coursing through the assembled faculty and high-ranking university officials. Whispers erupted, punctuated by the astonished expressions on their faces.

Dr. Benson’s face flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and anger contorting his features. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat as he grasped the implications of what she had just said. The other officials exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions shifting from disbelief to concern.

One of the senior board members, a dignified woman in his golden age, stood up abruptly. “I believe it is time for us to take this matter seriously. We cannot dismiss this as a grave issue. I propose an immediate investigation into the Faculty of Medicine and Dr. Benson’s conduct.”

Kennedy Wilson rose from his seat, the air around him thickening with authority. His expression, once unreadable, now radiated a simmering intensity. “Excuse me,” he interrupted, his voice slicing through the buzzing chaos in the room. “I demand to review the test results for the International Medical Conference selection.”

The chancellor turned to him, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected intervention. “Mr. Wilson, we can—”

He raised a hand, silencing him with an unwavering gaze. “I understand the sensitivity of the situation, but the outcomes of these tests are not merely academic exercises; they carry significant value. The Wilson Group is one of the largest sponsors of this conference, and as a research partner with the University of Uriel, it is crucial for us to select the rightful people. Any hint of impropriety could jeopardize the future of Wilson’s group and this university.”

Kennedy Wilson, owner of the country’s top hospitals and head of a global pharmaceutical empire, was both feared and respected in the business world for his ruthless commitment to excellence. His ability to make swift, often brutal decisions earned him a reputation as a man who would stop at nothing to achieve results.

The room fell into a stunned silence. Faces paled as realization dawned on them. Wilson’s group chairperson’s intervention was not just unexpected, but devastating. His reputation for ruthless integrity meant there would be no leniency.

As Blair left the conference room, a satisfied smirk played on her lips. With a dramatic flourish, she slipped on her sunglasses, feeling like a total boss. Nailed it, she thought, practically strutting down the hall. Honey, I just flipped the whole script.

Her internal monologue was in full gear. I am unstoppable, untouchable! She gave herself a mental high-five, reveling in her victory.

Blair felt invincible—like she could walk through fire without getting burned. No more gentle Blair. From now on, I’m fighting back! No one could scare me!

She swung open the door to her apartment, still buzzing with her triumph, and then—

“AAAAAHHH!”

She screamed at the top of her lungs, dropping her bag. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stumbled backward, eyes wide with terror.

The “ghost” turned out to be her white scarf draped over a chair, illuminated eerily by the streetlight through her window. She clutched her chest, panting and muttering. I almost have a heart attack because of the scarf?