Chapter 198 Who Wants to Kill Her?
"This is a new order from the doctor."
Wren didn't even look up as she skillfully prepared the alcohol swab to disinfect Cecilia's arm, her tone flat and emotionless.
"The doctor said an injection would work better and help you recover faster."
Wren's explanation sounded flawless.
But after the kidnapping and near-drowning, every nerve in Cecilia's body was on high alert.
This was one of Harmony City's top private hospitals, with extremely strict medical procedures.
Any temporary change in medication method, especially switching from oral to the higher-risk injection, required the attending physician or on-duty doctor to personally inform the patient and explain the reasons in detail.
That was the rule, unless it was an emergency resuscitation.
And her current condition was far from requiring resuscitation.
"Is that so?"
Cecilia's voice was soft but carried a hint of coldness.
"I'm a bit thirsty. Could you get me some water?"
She didn't question directly but made a simple request, her eyes fixed on Wren's every move.
"Sure, just a moment."
Wren set down the tray and turned to get water.
Her movements were smooth and natural, but Cecilia noticed that as Wren turned, she instinctively blocked the treatment tray with her body—a protective gesture toward the items on it.
An ordinary nurse would never have that habit.
The water was handed over.
Cecilia didn't take it. Instead, she continued unhurriedly, "You said this was a new doctor's order?"
"Yes, Ms. Martinez."
"Which doctor?" Cecilia's gaze returned to her face. "Was it Dr. Morris who did rounds this afternoon, or Dr. Hunt on the night shift?"
Wren's answer came without hesitation.
"Dr. Morris."
This answer seemed to have been rehearsed countless times in her mind.
"That's good."
Cecilia appeared relieved and even cooperatively extended her arm.
Cecilia watched as Wren picked up the syringe filled with murky yellow liquid and prepared to disinfect again, then said in a casual, conversational tone:
"I remember Dr. Morris is almost sixty this year. He has a very particular habit—when he writes orders, he uses his pen to make a unique mark."
"Go to the nurses' station and bring me that new order to look at."
"After all, this is going into my body. I should check it myself to make sure there's no mistake on your end, right?"
This was a lie Cecilia made up on the spot.
An extremely specific lie, full of details that sounded incredibly real.
If Wren were a real nurse, she might find Cecilia a bit troublesome as a patient, but would definitely follow protocol and get the order to verify.
But if she wasn't...
Wren's movement with the syringe stopped.
Frozen in mid-air.
The only sound left in the room was the faint dripping of liquid through the IV tube. The air was silent for a full three seconds, each one unbearably long.
"What's wrong?"
Cecilia's tone remained calm, but her eyes had turned cold.
"Don't you have the order?"
"Then how do you know it was from Dr. Morris?"
"Or..."
Cecilia spoke word by word, her voice not loud but creating heavy echoes in the silent room.
"There was never any new order at all?"
Wren slowly raised her head.
Above the mask, those eyes shed all their previous nervous and timid pretense, leaving only the cold malice of being exposed and undisguised killing intent.
She stopped wasting words.
Her wrist flipped sharply, the syringe reversed direction, and that gleaming metal needle aimed straight at Cecilia's heart, stabbing down viciously!
The movement was decisive!
Though Cecilia was prepared, she was still startled by the speed.
Almost purely on survival instinct, the moment Wren struck, Cecilia rolled hard toward the other side of the bed.
Her body slammed heavily into the cold metal bed rail. The freshly bandaged wound on her wrist tore open again, exploding in pain that made her gasp.
The needle grazed the skin of her shoulder with a bone-chilling cold and plunged deep into the pillow beneath her.
One strike missed.
A flash of surprise crossed the eyes of the fake nurse Wren, quickly replaced by even fiercer ruthlessness.
She pulled out the syringe, ready to strike again.
How could Cecilia give her a second chance!
Ignoring the pain, Cecilia lifted her foot and kicked hard at Wren's wrist holding the syringe.
A suppressed cry of pain—Wren's wrist took the full impact, the syringe flew from her hand and fell onto the carpet with a dull thud.
However, Wren's ferocity exceeded Cecilia's expectations.
The instant the syringe hit the floor, Wren actually pulled a gleaming dagger from behind her waist.
This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment attack, but a well-prepared slaughter!
Wren was determined to take Cecilia's life!
The dagger sliced through the air with a faint hiss, coming at an extremely tricky angle straight for the artery in Cecilia's neck.
Cecilia had nowhere to retreat, no way to dodge.
In that split second, Cecilia grabbed another pillow beside her and threw it at Wren's face with all her strength, while her body desperately tilted to the other side, trying to roll off the bed and create distance.
The pillow successfully blocked Wren's vision, buying Cecilia a precious second.
But Wren's reaction speed was alarmingly fast.
A crisp sound of fabric being torn by a blade.
The dagger slashed through Cecilia's hospital gown, the sharp blade leaving a deep gash on her forearm that exposed bone.
Blood instantly gushed out, quickly staining her white sleeve red.
"You can't escape!"
Wren ripped the pillow from her face, her features twisted as she lunged forward with a snarl, the dagger raised high again.
Cecilia was pinned to the bed by Wren, the searing pain from her wound and blood loss making her vision darken.
With her uninjured left hand, Cecilia gripped Wren's knife-wielding wrist desperately, kicking hard with both legs, her nails digging deep into Wren's flesh.
But the difference in strength forced Cecilia to retreat step by step.
That cold blade tip, reflecting her terrified pupils, was inching closer and closer to her eyes.
The shadow of death once again descended, airtight and suffocating.
At this critical moment—
The hospital room door was kicked open from outside.
Stefan's figure appeared in the doorway, wrapped in the lingering chill of the late night.
He had just finished dealing with police questioning downstairs, but felt uneasy, that inexplicable restlessness preventing him from leaving, so he returned.
Sure enough, as soon as he approached the room, Stefan heard the commotion inside and burst in without hesitation.
When he saw the heart-stopping scene in the room, those eyes that usually carried a lazy smile instantly lost all warmth.
In their place was volcanic fury and piercing killing intent.
"Get off!"
He lunged forward in one stride, his long leg creating a sharp arc in the air, kicking Wren's side precisely and viciously.