Chapter 28 Critical Condition
Charles caught Emily steadily, alarmed by the burning heat radiating from her skin. Her fevered breath warmed his neck, carrying faint traces of medication and a subtle perfume.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, unsure if he was cursing whoever had reduced her to this state or his own uncontrollably racing heart.
As he lifted her into his arms, Emily suddenly clutched his shirt, her nails nearly tearing through the fabric as she mumbled deliriously, "Don't... touch... the children..."
"What children?" Charles frowned, but she had already lost consciousness.
The Bentley sped off again, this time heading toward Evergreen Hospital. Charles watched the unconscious woman in the passenger seat, his fingertips hovering over her sweat-drenched forehead, repeatedly approaching then withdrawing.
He couldn't understand why he cared so much.
He should have resented her secrecy, been repelled by her coldness, yet seeing her so vulnerable filled his chest with inexplicable anger. He wanted to tear apart those who had hurt her, yet also wanted to shake her awake and ask how many secrets she was hiding.
Outside the window, neon lights flashed by, reflecting in his deep eyes, merging into a complex web of emotions even he couldn't decipher.
When Charles burst into the emergency room carrying Emily, Elodie was hunched over the triage desk, completing patient charts.
Without looking up at the commotion, she quipped, "Mr. Windsor, is this your idea of a romantic late-night adventure? Don't tell me you two got too wild and now need medical attention? The Windsor family has private physicians—why come here and monopolize our resources?"
"Cut the crap!"
"Fine, fine, I'll stop!"
Elodie rose from her seat, casually grabbing her stethoscope. The moment her eyes fell on the face of the woman in Charles's arms, the playful expression froze on her face.
Not Clara. It was Emily.
Elodie's face turned ashen as she rushed forward to take her friend. "Emily? What happened?"
Her fingers found Emily's carotid pulse, the skin beneath them alarmingly hot. Her pupils contracted sharply. "Heart rate's too fast, temperature's off the charts. Get a trauma bed ready! Prepare cardiac monitoring!"
Charles stepped back, startled by her sudden transformation as he watched Elodie efficiently pull open Emily's collar and press the stethoscope to her chest, moving with practiced precision.
"What did you do to her?" Elodie demanded furiously.
"I didn't do anything," Charles replied, his voice hoarse.
Elodie had no time to interrogate him further. She quickly examined Emily's eyelids. "Pupils dilated, rapid breathing—looks like a drug reaction."
Something suddenly occurred to her, and she grabbed Emily's wrist firmly. "Emily! Wake up! Look at me!"
Emily opened her eyes groggily. Seeing Elodie, her cracked lips moved slightly. "Elodie... the pill..."
Elodie's heart sank. She checked Emily's ring compartment—it was empty.
Emily had taken the pill!
That pill was something Elodie had specially created for Emily years ago to counteract powerful date rape drugs. She'd spent three months locked in a laboratory developing it, even missing her family's gala.
The pill could temporarily keep someone conscious, but with severe side effects.
For Emily to have taken it meant the situation must have been dire.
'Damn it, who drugged Emily?'
As Elodie was using a tongue depressor to examine Emily's mouth, her nostrils caught a faint almond scent. Her expression changed dramatically. "Shit! It's a compound drug! Mixed with a neuroinhibitor!"
That would intensify the side effects!
Just as she finished speaking, Emily began coughing violently. Cold sweat instantly covered her forehead as her body curled into a ball, her nails digging deep into Elodie's arm. "It hurts..."
Elodie held her tight, her voice cracking with emotion. "Emily! Just hang on!"
The muscle spasms triggered by the side effects were violently conflicting with the compound drug in Emily's system, creating sharp, searing pain throughout her bloodstream.
Emily's breathing became increasingly labored. Her eyes rolled back, and within seconds, she lost consciousness completely. The cardiac monitor's waveform immediately became chaotic.
"Prepare epinephrine! Establish IV access! Charles, if anything happens to Emily, I will never forgive you!" Elodie shouted as she rushed Emily toward the resuscitation room, her once mocking eyes now bloodshot with worry.
Charles watched the doors close in front of him, noticing traces of blood on the door panel from Emily's coughing fit.
He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
He knew Elodie's background—the most cherished daughter of Emerald City's Garcia family, who rejected her family's mansion to work as an emergency physician.
At a cocktail party years ago, when Clara had remarked that "doctors are just glorified servants," Elodie had immediately thrown red wine in her face.
Her protection of Emily ran bone-deep.
The red light above the resuscitation room illuminated Charles's face in alternating shadows and crimson.
Inside, he could hear Elodie issuing calm, precise orders. He suddenly remembered how Emily had clutched his shirt before losing consciousness—so desperately, as if grasping at the last lifeline.
Charles stared intently at the closed doors.
For the first time, he clearly recognized that his concern for Emily had long surpassed mere suspicion or curiosity.
Meanwhile, in the resuscitation room, Elodie was monitoring the fluctuating lines on the cardiac monitor, her fingers flying across the keyboard to pull up Emily's allergy history and medication records.
She knew better than anyone that when Emily was six, a Johnson family nanny had fed her spoiled milk, leaving her unusually sensitive to compound medications ever since.
The dosage of drugs this time was practically gambling with her life.
"Emily, hang in there. You promised we'd see the Northern Lights in Iceland together—don't you dare break that promise." After saying this, she glanced toward the main doors and told a nurse, "Go file a police report for the patient. Evergreen Hospital emergency department, suspected intentional harm. The suspect's name is Charles, and he's currently on site."
One hour later.
As police sirens pierced the hospital's quiet, the resuscitation room doors opened, and Emily was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit. Elodie, drenched in sweat, finally had the energy to glare at Charles.
Emily being drugged must have something to do with Charles!
He was supposedly Clara's boyfriend, yet he brought Emily to the hospital. Anyone could sense something fishy about the situation.
Could Clara have drugged Emily...?
As Elodie's thoughts raced, a commotion erupted in the hospital corridor.
A group of black-suited bodyguards escorted a man wearing a baseball cap. The sharp jawline visible beneath the cap's brim belonged to Wesley Martin, who had just finished a night shoot.
"What crime have you committed, Mr. Windsor?" Wesley removed his cap, revealing a face that would make his fans scream, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I heard my cousin caught you red-handed?"