Married a Secret Billionaire by Breaking Wave

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"Nicole, don't worry too much," Maisie comforted softly. "I'll figure something out."

"Alright!" Nicole flattered timidly. "Maisie, it's always you who has all the solutions. Whenever something happens at

home, we can only rely on you."

Maisie forced a smile. After hanging up, she instinctively dialed Daniel's number. Those digits felt etched into her

muscles.

Yet, she hesitated at the moment of pressing the call button.

For years, seeking his help had become second nature to her. From treating Owen's illness to every major and

minor family issue, it all depended on Daniel.

Not having enough money at home, having to move houses, Nicole seeking to divorce Wesley, Wesley gambling...

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These issues were a heavy burden to a regular household, but it was only a matter of words to Daniel.

Maisie let out a long sigh and smirked self-deprecatingly. Apparently, she would always be dependent on him.

She didn't want to continue like this. Since she had chosen to be independent, she needed to rely on herself for

everything.

After some thought, she found a few doctors' numbers from her contacts and called them one by one. The

responses were all the same—overcrowded hospitals and adherence to protocols. They promised to prioritize her

mother once a bed became available.

"But..." Maisie remembered this person was a hospital director.

"Mr. Lawrence," she attempted again. "Is there no way to accommodate? It's fine even if we pay more..."

"Do you wish for her to stay in a VIP ward?"

"Yes."

There was a pause on the other end. "Does Mr. Quimby know about this?"

Maisie's gaze dimmed, and she silently ended the call.

"Um, excuse me." Suddenly, a voice came from beside her.

Maisie was taken aback and looked up to see the same man from before.

He offered a gentle smile. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop on your call. I was about to leave but overheard about

hospitals and beds... Do you need any help?"

"Thank you, but I'm fine," Maisie replied calmly. "I can handle it myself." The man nodded but didn't leave

immediately. Instead, he turned and wrote a phone number on a piece of paper.

"This is the director of a private hospital." He handed her the note. "Private hospitals have fewer patients and more

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beds, but the charges are relatively higher. If you need it, contact him. If not, pretend I didn't say anything and toss

the paper away. Is that okay?"

Maisie was stunned but hesitantly accepted the note, thanking him softly.

The man beamed.

Maisie found him innocent.

"If you do contact the director, mention my referral. I'm Harvey Newhouse!"

The private hospital had fewer patients and more beds. Coupled with Maisie's growing royalties and manuscript

fees, paying for her mother's hospitalization and treatment was no longer a problem.

Soon, Maisie settled Cindy but didn't receive a word of thanks in return—though she hadn't expected gratitude from

her.

After all, the daughter should do everything possible when a mother fell ill.

It was just that Cindy's lack of expression left Maisie feeling somewhat disappointed.