NovelOnlineChapter 244 The Most Important Person
Nicole's nerves, strained to their limit, eased only when she was safely inside the ambulance.
A sensation of something descending in her lower abdomen gripped her...
Had her baby failed to live after the torment she went through? A mouthful of blood escaped Nicole's lips.
Her fingers clenched so tightly that blood oozed from her grasp.
Jarrod! What a bastard! How could he be cruel as to get rid of his own child? How dare him! In the hospital, Jarrod remained by
Jamie's side.
Jamie, after a detailed examination, was found to be unharmed.
The fork had missed her artery.
In the chaos, Jamie had pressed her hand against the wound, making the bleeding appear more severe than it was.
Traumatized, Jamie repeatedly voiced her fear that Nicole wanted to kill her, opting to stay in the hospital for a few more days
with Jarrod by her side.
At this moment, Jarrod stepped out of the ward for a moment alone in the corridor.
He was about to light a cigarette when his phone rang.
Alec was on the line.
"Mr.Schultz, I went to pick up Miss Lawrence as instructed, but Mr.Dixon's men had already secured her medical parole."
Mitchel had arranged Nicole's medical parole? Jarrod pondered for a moment and connected the dots.
Raegan must have spoken to Mitchel and asked for help.
He recalled Mitchel's call from the previous night, which he had neglected due to Jamie's distress.
This had to be the topic of that missed call.
He had never intended to detain Nicole for long.
Doing Mitchel this favor seemed right.
"Forget it.Just take care of the remaining issues."
"Already done.The case against her has been dropped."
"Good."
After a pause, Alec added with concern, "But it appears Miss Lawrence sustained serious injuries..."
At this instant, a doctor, hurrying with a gurney, passed by Jarrod.
"Sir, please step aside."
Jarrod moved, his eyes briefly meeting the gurney as he asked Alec, "What did you just say?"
"Miss Lawrence was injured in the detention center," Alec responded.
A moment passed without an answer.
"Mr.Schultz, are you there?"
Jarrod's grip loosened, his phone clattering to the floor.
He stood, stunned and immobile, his gaze locked on the scene before him.
On the gurney, covered in blood, lay Nicole! Her face was deathly pale, a stark contrast to the dark blood under her nails.
Her arm dangled from the gurney, lifeless.
Jarrod felt a sudden, searing pain in his temples.
He lurched forward, grasping the edge of the gurney, disbelief etched on his face.
He needed confirmation! The doctor, frowning, tried to pull Jarrod's hand away.
"Sir, you're hindering our emergency treatment!"
Jarrod's refusal to move aside prompted the doctor to push him harder.
"Please, don't obstruct our efforts to save her!"
Jarrod's mind snapped back, and he slowly loosened his grip.
But then, a weak grasp caught his hand.
"Nicole!"
Jarrod's voice was a mix of shock and surprise.
Nicole's eyes fluttered open, the whites stained with red.
She looked at him, unmoving.
“Jarrod, you got what you wanted.You've killed our child yourself!"Nicole's voice, rough and strained as though scorched by
flames, was barely audible.
Her words were difficult to discern.
Jarrod, reading her lips, felt as if struck by lightning.
Was the child he had sought to eliminate actually his own? Nicole's blurred vision couldn't discern his expression.
All she saw were shadowy figures.
Her hand weakly slipped down.
"Jarrod," she whispered.
"My dying wish is for you to be cursed with illness and loneliness throughout your life..."
Her voice, filled with hatred, despair, and revulsion, was hoarse and feeble.
Jarrod watched her lips closely, deciphering each word that others couldn't.
He felt as if her bloodied hand was choking him, his hand stiffening in response.
After a moment, Jarrod spoke through clenched teeth, his voice strained.
"Nicole, stop talking about death! You're not scaring anyone."
The doctor interjected urgently, "Sir, the patient is bleeding.Your actions are endangering her life!"
To the medical team, Jarrod seemed deranged.
They couldn't understand why Jarrod was attempting to communicate with a patient who could only make hissing sounds due to
damaged vocal cords.
Finally, Jarrod let go.
He remained motionless, then retrieved his phone from the floor and followed the medical team.
Outside the emergency room, Jarrod's hands shook uncontrollably.
He had thought confining her in the detention center would only limit her freedom, granting her a lesson for defying and harming
the untouchable.
How could things have turned out like this...
What did Nicole mean by accusing him of killing his own child? A sharp, needle-like pain struck his temple.
Leaning against the wall, he dialed Alec.
Miss a single detail, and you'll be tortured to death!"
The medical team stretched on for eight grueling hours.
Jarrod stood outside the operating room, motionless, his figure resembling a statue.
Inside, Nicole lay on the table, her complexion pallid, her breathing having momentarily stopped.
The surgery was in the hands of the hospital's most experienced professor, with a promising young doctor named Roscoe
assisting.
Roscoe, despite his youth and lack of qualifications for lead surgeon, was remarkably skilled in drug therapy research, especially
in cancer treatment and prolonging life.
At the operating table, the professor gazed at Nicole, whose abdomen was gravely compromised, and slowly shook his head.
"It's too late..."
Roscoe, usually composed, showed a crack in his demeanor.
His voice slightly hoarse, he implored, "Please, save her."
Looking at the usually stoic Roscoe, the professor inquired, "Who is this woman to you?"
Roscoe's thoughts drifted back to one summer when he first saw Nicole.
Back then, the eighteen-year-old Nicole accompanied her father to a charity event in the countryside.
She was dressed in a striking red dress, complemented by a wide-brimmed black hat, her skin delicate.
Her smile was like that of a radiant, dazzling red rose.
He later learned Nicole's name and her identity as the daughter of a wealthy businessman known for aiding underprivileged
children like him.
That fleeting encounter lingered in his memory, a moment frozen in time, leaving a lasting imprint on Roscoe's heart.
Roscoe had personally raised 50 million to help Nicole settle her debts.
He sold his cherished patent and traveled abroad for medical exchanges, all to enhance his qualifications and increase his
earnings.
Yet, Nicole was still here, grievously injured.
The once flawless lady was now marred by wounds, and he felt helpless to help.
His skills, formidable as they were, seemed insignificant in the face of the harsh realities of capitalism.
He could only stand by as she suffered.
Determination burning in his eyes, Roscoe stated firmly, "She's the most important person to me."
In the operating room, despite his exceptional talent, Roscoe was helpless to aid Nicole.
Emotions could cloud judgment.
After the operation, only Roscoe and a nurse remained.
Nicole, barely conscious, recognized a familiar figure and felt a sense of relief.
Her eyelashes quivered, her voice barely a whisper.
Through her lips, she conveyed, "Ros...I don't want others to know about my illness."
She refused to spend her final days under the weight of pity and sympathy.
She yearned to maintain her dignity, to leave this world with grace and poise.
"I understand," Roscoe replied, comprehending her wishes.
He tenderly brushed her hair, his voice steady.
"Don't worry.You won't be alone."
He resolved to be by her side, should that day arrive.
Nicole peacefully drifted off to sleep.
Roscoe's gaze turned icy as he faced the nurse, inquiring, "Is that man still waiting outside?".
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