Chapter 105 I Am Pursuing Amelia
The wait outside the operating room was suffocatingly long.
The harsh fluorescent lights cast a sickly pale glow over the corridor. Every passing second was marked by the faint ticking of the wall clock. Any footsteps echoing from the depths of the hallway were enough to make one's heart skip a beat.
Mabel had long since cried herself dry. Now she just numbly clutched Cecilia's hand, mumbling something over and over.
Time crawled by—who knew how long.
The red light above the operating room, which had been on for four or five hours, finally went out.
The door swung open, and Lon emerged, exhaustion written all over his face.
Cecilia and Mabel practically shot up from their chairs and rushed over.
"Dr. Ramos! How's my dad?" Cecilia's voice was shaking.
"The surgery was successful. The patient's vital signs are stable for now." Lon pulled down his mask, his voice heavy with fatigue, giving them some reassurance.
Their hearts, which had been suspended in mid-air, finally settled back into place.
Mabel's legs gave out, and she started to collapse backward, but Cecilia caught her firmly.
A mixture of overwhelming relief and lingering fear caused Mabel's long-suppressed tears to burst forth again, leaving her sobbing uncontrollably.
However, Lon's next words shattered their brief moment of celebration, which had lasted only a few seconds.
"But the damage to the patient's heart muscle is more severe than we anticipated."
Lon's brow furrowed, his expression turning serious.
"Although we saved his life, the follow-up rehabilitation is crucial. It will require a very long and meticulous process. If possible, it would be best to have a professional rehabilitation team provide guidance."
He paused, his tone growing heavier.
"Otherwise, I'm afraid the prognosis won't be good. He may not even be able to return to a normal life."
Mabel's crying stopped abruptly.
She stared blankly at Lon, the slight color that had just returned to her face draining away again.
"Rehabilitation—how, how much will that cost?"
Lon didn't answer directly, but his troubled expression said it all.
The ongoing care, expensive imported medications, professional rehabilitation guidance—each item was a bottomless pit.
The $500,000 hole that had just been filled now gaped open again before them, deeper and more terrifying than before.
The heart Mabel had just set down was yanked up high again, and this time, even her last shred of hope was nearly extinguished.
Mabel's body swayed violently, and she looked ready to faint again.
"Mom! Hold on!"
Cecilia pressed hard on the pressure point between Mabel's nose and upper lip, shouting anxiously.
Cecilia forced herself to stay calm, but her mind went completely blank, as if she couldn't hear any sound around her.
Money!
It was money again!
What should she do?
In the midst of this chaos and despair, the sound of leather shoes clicking against the floor approached from a distance.
It was completely different from the usual hurried footsteps in the hospital—it carried an absolute authority and oppressive force that made the surrounding noise unconsciously quiet down.
Cecilia jerked her head up to look.
At the end of the corridor, Rufus was walking toward them at a measured pace.
He still wore that impeccably tailored black suit, his posture upright, his face expressionless.
Behind him followed a group of doctors from Sylvanor.
They too were dressed in suits, carrying professional medical equipment cases marked with Sylvanor logos, radiating an elite aura that ordinary people couldn't approach.
The appearance of this group was completely out of place in the chaotic hospital environment and instantly drew everyone's attention.
Leading them was an older Sylvanor specialist, Klaus Heilmann. He glanced at Lon and spoke in fluent local language: "Excuse me, is this Mr. Martinez's ward?"
Lon froze for a moment, then nodded instinctively.
Rufus, meanwhile, ignored all the searching gazes around him. His eyes cut through the crowd and walked straight to Cecilia.
His gaze fell on Cecilia, then swept over to Lon, who had just finished the surgery and looked bewildered.
"This is the chief rehabilitation team from Sylvanor's Phoenix Institute Cardiac Center, led by Dr. Heilmann."
"Starting today, they will take full charge of the patient's post-operative treatment."
"All expenses will be charged to my account."
Lon was completely stunned. He looked at the imposing Sylvanor specialists, then at Rufus standing before him with his extraordinary bearing, unable to process what was happening.
Phoenix Institute Cardiac Center? That was one of the world's top institutions!
Mabel was even more shocked by this sudden turn of events, standing frozen in place.
She looked at Rufus, then at Cecilia, her lips moving but unable to make a sound.
Who was Rufus?
The natural nobility emanating from Rufus, the kind of power that could mobilize world-class resources with a wave of his hand—this was definitely not something an ordinary "friend" could possess.
All the blood in Cecilia's body froze completely in that instant.
She stared hard at Rufus, wishing she could tear him apart with her gaze.
He had come, just as he had promised.
And in such a flamboyant, domineering way, announcing his presence!
"Amelia."
Mabel finally found her voice. Carefully, with a hint of awe and deep confusion, she tugged at Cecilia's sleeve.
"This gentleman—is he, is he the friend you mentioned?"
Mabel could sense that the atmosphere between Rufus and Amelia was very wrong.
But she didn't dare ask Rufus directly, so she could only turn to her daughter Amelia for help.
Cecilia's heart was gripped tightly by an invisible hand, the pain making it almost impossible to breathe.
What should she say?
That he was her creditor?
Or that he was the devil she had spent her entire life trying to escape?
"No, Mom!"
Cecilia suddenly grabbed Mabel's hand, her voice sharp. "We don't know him! I don't know him!"
She turned her head, her reddened eyes glaring at Rufus, forcing words out through clenched teeth.
"Mr. Chapman, I think there's been some misunderstanding between us. My father's surgery fees have been paid in full. We'll handle the follow-up treatment ourselves. We don't need your help! Please take your people and leave!"
Mabel was frightened by her intense reaction and quickly tried to cover her mouth.
"Amelia! What—what's wrong with you? If he's not the benefactor who lent us money, then—"
"He's not a benefactor!" Cecilia pulled away from Mabel's hand, completely losing control of her emotions. "He, he is—"
Cecilia's throat felt dry and tight as she desperately tried to think of a reasonable excuse.
However, Rufus didn't give her that chance at all.
He finally lowered his eyes to look at Cecilia's pale face, then turned toward the confused and panicked Mabel.
On his handsome but cold face, a faint, barely polite smile slowly appeared.
"Mrs. Martinez, hello." His voice was steady and clear.
Rufus nodded slightly, the gesture elegant yet full of oppressive force.
"I'm Rufus."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Cecilia's desperate face before finally settling on Mabel's astonished eyes, delivering his final line.
"I'm courting your daughter."