If he had gone down a little earlier, maybe Enna Clark wouldn’t have ended up in the hospital.
Ultimately, it was all his fault for being too slow.
Self-bla, guilt, all sorts of emotions surged in, almost suffocating him. His chest felt like it was crushed by a huge stone, each heavy breath threatening to break him.
Enna Clark...
Enna Clark...
Enna Clark...
She absolutely can’t have anything happen!
If sothing happens to her, he’d lose his mind before she would!
"Lord!" Scott Harris watched helplessly as he threw a heavy punch against the wall, a trail of crimson blood slowly trickling down from where his fist hit the hospital’s snow-white wall...
Scott Harris couldn’t care about anything else, reached out to pull him back.
His hand hadn’t even co close.
When he heard the man hoarsely, deeply growl, "Don’t touch !"
"...Yes, Lord." Scott Harris was startled and slowly withdrew his hand.
The man, full of pain, slowly closed his eyes, seemingly trying hard to control himself.
Adam Sinclair couldn’t stand it either, hesitated for a mont, and said, "Baron, do you want to get you a sedative?"
He didn’t know how Enna was doing inside, but he could see Baron’s condition; it wasn’t looking good.
He needed a sedative to calm him down a bit.
The man leaning against the wall acted as if he didn’t hear the suggestion, keeping his eyes shut all along.
Adam Sinclair was burning with anxiety but had no other options.
If Baron wouldn’t agree, he couldn’t just run and get it himself, and if Baron refused to cooperate, even bringing it wouldn’t help!
But Baron’s situation really wasn’t good...
Rupert Harris was equally worried, but he pressed down on his shoulder, shook his head, and whispered, "Don’t say anything, let him be quiet for a bit."
Nothing you say would matter now.
We have to wait until Ms. Clark cos out.
Adam Sinclair understood this as well, gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
A perfectly fine honeymoon party, suddenly turning into this, no one could adapt so quickly.
Thankfully, Bobby and Gigi didn’t know Enna had an incident, with Emily Goldsmith taking care of them. If Bobby knew, the atmosphere would be even heavier.
The clock ticked, each tick sounding like a hamr striking at everyone’s hearts.
Who knows how much ti has passed.
It seed to drag out as if an entire century had gone by.
The door to the operating room finally opened—
The first to appear was the attending doctor, her hands covered in blood. With the nurse’s help, she removed the bloody gloves and tossed them into the nearby trash can.
Seeing so many people around took her aback for a mont, she asked, "Who here is the patient’s family?"
"I am. Speak!" Baron Lawrence imdiately strode over, his tall fra exuding a powerful presence!
The female doctor, who had lived for decades, was seeing such a good-looking man for the first ti, paused briefly, then diverted her gaze and said, "The patient inhaled a large amount of Sarin gas, a neurotoxin that can cause dizziness, anxiety, cognitive damage, muscle spasms, and respiratory distress. She inhaled quite a bit of it, and even though she consciously avoided taking in too much, she still absorbed a substantial amount. I perford gastric lavage and lung lavage on her, and in the short term, she might only be able to consu light, fluid-based foods..."
This ant there was no risk to her life.
The tensions in Baron Lawrence’s muscles and nerves slightly eased up.
"And that blood..."
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