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?”

in trouble. You might

alarmed, inquired, “Bruce,

life-threatening situation, and

“Where are

private treatment room. No other doctor should touch

courageously disclosed, “It’s my little brother… It’s at least two or three times bigger than usual. I feel like it’s about to burst and I��m

exclaimed, “Did you take any

like it’s possessed. It’s

room. If it’s as

palpable as he stammered, “I…I’ll be there right away!” He tossed the phone aside, locking eyes with Camilla and the other girl, urgency in his voice, “Quickly, help me get dressed and drive me to Manhattan

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

sinking feeling in his heart. The awkward posture made wearing

suggested, “Warden, how about I

urging, “Go quickly, fetch it for

in sunglasses and masks, flanked Bruce Weinstein, hastily wrapped in a bathrobe. The trio hurriedly

mercy, each step delivering torture akin to needles relentlessly piercing him. Yet, he understood the gravity of the situation, he had to endure, avoiding any

the wheel of Bruce Weinstein’s car,

halted at the hospital entrance. Bruce Weinstein’s close

Witnessing Bruce Weinstein curled up in pain, Mark questioned, “Bruce, are

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, I’m

first. Then,

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