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?”

revealed, “I’m in trouble. You might

alarmed, inquired, “Bruce, are you

confessed, “Worse. It’s a life-threatening situation, and you’re

offered, “Where are you? I’ll

Bruce insisted, “Prepare a private treatment

hesitated but courageously disclosed, “It’s my little brother… It’s at least two or three times bigger than usual. I feel

“Did you

like it’s possessed.

the room. If it’s as bad

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

her concern evident, unconsciously uttered, “Warden, you… I’m afraid you can’t put on pants

feeling in his heart. The awkward posture made wearing pants

of inspiration, Camilla suggested, “Warden, how about

urging,

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

Weinstein’s excruciating pain showed no mercy, each step delivering torture akin to needles relentlessly piercing him. Yet,

behind the wheel of

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

Weinstein curled up in pain, Mark questioned, “Bruce, are you sure this

not April Fool’s Day. I don’t have the energy for pranks. For God’s

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

I’m

first.

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

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