Anticipating relief, Bruce was dismayed to find the ice cubes utterly ineffective. The agonizing pain and severe swelling persisted unabated.

His face contorted in anguish, Bruce, once a formidable warden, now crumpled to the ground, resembling a little girl soiling her skirt and weeping in a muddy puddle.

Concerned, Camilla queried, “Mr. Warden, is it any better?”

Bruce shook his head between sobs, despairingly admitting, “Help me think of something. I can’t endure this. It’s too much…”

Flustered, Camilla stammered, “I can’t think of anything…”

Then, she suggested, “What if I call 911 for help? Should I?”

“No!” Bruce blurted, realizing the consequences. “Calling 911 would ruin all of us!”

Bruce comprehended the peril of being in a federal prison, with the Rothschild family connections. A scandal tonight could ruin his career and relationships.

Enduring the torment, he pleaded, “Go to my pocket, get my phone. I need to make a call, find someone to help.”

Relieved at the thought of assistance, Camilla hurriedly retrieved Bruce’s phone.

Bruce’s call for help wasn’t directed at Jagoan, the recent acquaintance, but at a friend, a physician at a nearby hospital.

Impatiently, Bruce exclaimed, “Mark, where are you?”

A middle-aged voice responded, “On duty at the hospital. What’s wrong?”

You might be the

alarmed, inquired, “Bruce, are you

“Worse. It’s a life-threatening

gravity, offered, “Where are you? I’ll come

Mark alone might be ill-equipped, Bruce insisted, “Prepare a private treatment

at least two or three times bigger than usual. I feel like it’s about to burst and I��m going to

“Did you

swelled suddenly, like

to the hospital. I’ll prepare the room. If

his fear palpable as he stammered, “I…I’ll be there right away!” He tossed the phone aside, locking eyes with Camilla and the other

her concern evident, unconsciously uttered, “Warden, you… I’m afraid

Weinstein looked down, a sinking feeling in his heart. The awkward posture made wearing pants impossible unless he

Camilla suggested, “Warden, how

hesitation, urging, “Go quickly, fetch it

Bruce Weinstein, hastily wrapped in a bathrobe. The trio hurriedly made their way out of the

each step delivering torture akin to needles relentlessly piercing him. Yet, he understood the gravity of

underground garage, Camilla, behind the wheel of Bruce

at the hospital entrance. Bruce Weinstein’s close friend Mark awaited,

the door. Witnessing Bruce Weinstein curled up in pain, Mark questioned, “Bruce,

retorted, “Mark, it’s not April Fool’s Day. I don’t have the energy for pranks. For God’s sake, get me

Bruce Weinstein out of the car. Observing Bruce’s silhouette through the bathrobe, Mark was momentarily stunned. He inquired, “Bruce, is this for

Weinstein, exasperated, exclaimed, “Mark, I’m not here

injections, reassured, “I’ll administer relief drugs first. Then, we’ll

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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