CHAPTER 846: CHAPTER 845

But his condition didn’t improve; instead, he began to struggle for breath.

It wasn’t until he slammed the emergency button that the entire villa’s alarm system blared to life. The servants awoke in a panic, the security team charged upstairs, and Steward arrived posthaste with the

doctor in tow. The clock read 3 AM sharp.

"Sean."

Steward watched anxiously as Sean was administered oxygen and underwent a thorough examination.

He had anticipated the worst, insisting the doctor stay at the villa, just in case. If he hadn’t, Sean might have suffered even more.

"Did Sean eat anything unusual tonight?" The doctor turned to Steward, "He was doing fine yesterday, despite the injury. It shouldn’t have led to such a severe reaction."

Steward cast a glance at Sean, who lay unconscious, eyes shut on the bed, and replied, "His diet was normal."

He had personally overseen Sean’s meals. He knew every ingredient and every portion Sean had consumed that day. There was no way the home-cooked meals could be the culprit.

"He had a bit of alcohol tonight."

Steward remembered the glass of wine Rosemary had offered, of which Sean had taken only a sip.

"That’s it; nothing else."

"We need to run some blood tests."

That’s how these doctors operated - always quick to draw blood. Steward, accustomed to this, simply nodded, and one of the medics promptly began the blood draw.

Soon after, the test results came in, showing Sean’s levels to be well above normal.

"Looks like he’s been drugged," the doctor said, studying the results.

"What did you say?" Steward was taken aback.

"A normal diet wouldn’t result in such abnormal levels. It’s clear he’s been poisoned."

"Poisoned???"

Steward’s shock was palpable. Who would dare poison Sean?? As he lifted his gaze, every servant and guard shook their head in horror, signaling their innocence. Who had the nerve to poison Sean?

They wouldn’t dare, not for all the money in the world.

"However, this poison isn’t lethal. For now, it seems to only cause discomfort."

Steward’s mind raced to Rosemary, but she had been holding that glass first, and it was Sean who insisted on swapping drinks.

She couldn’t have possibly poisoned herself. Where did the plan go awry? Sean was sharp; he would have detected any foul play.

"Sean had a bullet lodged in his heart from a previous incident; yesterday’s hurt on the chest, plus today’s abnormality, they’d only worsen his condition. If we don’t remove the bullet, he’ll continue to suffer from the pain, the breathlessness, the weakening of his strength."

Steward looked at her, "How confident are you in the procedure?"

"50%." she responded with her usual candor, "Steward, you should find a top-tier doctor for Sean to end his suffering sooner rather than later. Otherwise, he’ll continue to endure this agony."

"If even you are only 50% sure." Where could he find a better doctor?

Months ago, several gangs had banded together to target Sean. He was en route to his villa when his convoy was ambushed. With his entourage’s protection, Sean was able to leave first. However, as he saw his men were fighting behind, obviously outnumbered, Sean retraced his way to save his men, ultimately taking a bullet.

They later discovered the bullet lodged in Sean’s heart. The enemy’s homemade, low-quality firearms and ammunition meant the shot was not fatal - the bullet had penetrated Sean’s heart but didn’t pass through, resting against the inner wall.

Ironically, it was the inferior quality of the gun and bullet that had allowed Sean a chance to survive.

The angle of the bullet’s entry meant it didn’t pierce the heart chamber directly; instead, it became enshrouded by the heart muscle. With every thud of Sean’s heart, the bullet inside shifted ever so

slightly.

Since taking the bullet, Sean had maintained an air of indifference, going about his life as if nothing had changed. To everyone else, he was the same formidable figure they had always feared.

But sometimes, he’d suffer from chest tightness, a racing heartbeat, dizziness, a feeling of suffocation.

Over the past few months, a team of top-notch doctors had been brainstorming solutions, but none could guarantee a 100% success rate in removing the bullet.

Because the bullet, aside from causing Sean discomfort, wasn’t life-threatening and didn’t disrupt his daily routine, some doctors suggested forgoing surgery and simply managing the symptoms with

medication.

As time went on, Sean’s discomfort grew more frequent and pronounced; conservative treatment was no longer cutting it.

That was one reason he hadn’t gone home. The thought of his family witnessing his sudden death. The heartache it would cause his parents, his siblings.

"There is another option." one doctor mentioned, "I’ve heard about this Dr. Bell, who’s operated on many influential people. They say even the toughest cases are kids’ play for her. It’s rumored that she’s

quicker to save a life than the Grim Reaper is to take one. If we can find her, there might be a chance."

"Dr. Bell." Steward had heard the name before.

He had sent people to find this miracle doctor long ago, but Dr. Bell was as elusive as a ghost, and they hadn’t

been able to track her down.

Now, with Sean unconscious, mobilizing a massive search felt like finding a needle in a haystack.

Then, the image of that young girl from the night before popped into his mind. Did she really know medicine? Could she operate on Sean?

Her calm demeanor, those eyes brimming with confidence, it made one want to believe. But that thought lasted only a second before he felt like he was losing his mind. He must be desperate to even

consider the words of a girl barely out of her teens!

"Keep Sean on the meds to ease his pain for now. When he wakes up, I’ll discuss it with him."

They had no better plan; they had to wait.

The next morning, as dawn was breaking, Sean’s eyelids fluttered open. Remembering the symptoms that the young girl had pinpointed the night before, a smile crept across his face.

She really was a unique young lady. She had even guessed the timing and symptoms.

"Sean, you’re awake."

Steward thought his eyes were deceiving him. Not only was Sean awake, but he was also smiling, a baffling and unsettling sight in the dim morning light.

"Get in touch with her," Sean said abruptly.

Steward was bewildered and took a moment to comprehend, "You mean that young girl, you want her to treat you?"

Sean clarified, "To perform the surgery."

"Letting a girl we barely know and have had conflicts with operate on you?" Steward felt Sean was out of his mind, resorting to desperate measures, even considering a girl to perform surgery,

"Sean, we don’t even know who she is."

Recalling the girl’s confident demeanor, Sean replied with a relaxed assurance, "Do as I say."

He couldn’t believe that she’d boldly make such claims if she wasn’t competent. She must be sure of herself. Sean’s directive left Steward with no choice but to reluctantly make the call.