Chapter 543 Ishara's Bone Marrow Donation
"You've paid so much to Africa, and you've nearly lost your life there over the past weeks. Why would their damn border control even hold you up?"
"When you're on someone else's turf, them pointing guns at you is hardly surprising."
Lawrence's voice was faint, his gesture of wiping the blood from his face elegant, yet it revealed a wicked and defiant streak to Winnie. Bloodied, he seemed to emit an aura of danger and defiance.
Her skin turned cold at the sight.
Jeremy moved closer, lowering his voice to an angry whisper. "It was Mars behind the customs holdup. He couldn't stand that you didn't die in Africa, and on the critical day of your mother's surgery, he tried to keep you from returning home!"
Winnie's heart raced in fear. The war between Mars and Lawrence was turning bloody indeed. She still clutched the secret of Mars and Hellen close to her heart. Lawrence was in a tough spot right now. She wondered if she should tell him what she knew.
"I'll settle scores with them about the issue with Africa. Has Dr. Moore arrived?" Lawrence cut Jeremy off mid-sentence.
He didn't want Winnie to overhear the distressing details of his trip to Africa.
Jeremy nodded. "Dr. Moore and his team are in the OR, prepping and doing their final checks. Madam Rodriguez is about to be anesthetized. Dr. Moore mentioned the surgery should take around four hours if all goes well."
He hesitated, frowning in concern. "You've just come back. Go see Madam Rodriguez; she's been waiting for you."
Lawrence spun around abruptly. His gaze, dark with a tinge of crimson, flitted over Winnie, betraying a fleeting vulnerability.
Winnie instantly felt a surge of compassion for him.
She understood that look. If his mother’s surgery didn't go well, this might be their last goodbye.
In Madam Rodriguez's heart, despite the divorce, he remained her son and Winnie, her daughter-in-law.
Winnie didn't refuse Lawrence's silent plea. She picked up Sidney and headed in the direction Jeremy had pointed.
"Let me hold my boy," came a voice filled with relief.
Winnie followed him to the entrance of the ward.
Madam Rodriguez, dressed for surgery, sat quietly in a wheelchair.
Jeremy was just about to call her name when Lawrence's hand shot out to stop him.
A resolute hardness etched across his chiseled features. "Jeremy, I won't go in. Let my mother keep waiting, keep holding on until the surgery ends."
Jeremy's throat tightened. "But what if..."
"There's no what if!" Lawrence's voice was icy, persistent, and tough. His brow furrowed deeply as he turned away from the room. "Where's Ishara? Bring her here."
Jeremy looked down as he dialed. "Security, bring Ms. Ishara over! She's needed in the OR!"
After hanging up, he quietly updated the situation. "I had security on Ishara's tail for the past week. She's been cooperative, staying at home. Even when I put her under house arrest yesterday, she didn't resist or try to back out of the donation. In the few days under my watch, she only visited the hospital once with Eleanor. I checked, and it was to get a prescription from Leo."
"It's going too smoothly. I'm half expecting her to back out right here and now and cause a scene." Lawrence looked at Jeremy, an icy calmness in his steely gaze. "Whatever she's up to, today her spinal marrow will like it or not, be transplanted into my mother. If she knows what's good for her, she'll spare herself the pain."
As Lawrence spoke, his eyes followed Ishara, who was making her way toward him in her wheelchair.
His voice was loud and resonant, intentionally so that Ishara could hear.
Grasping her fingers tightly, Ishara came to a stop in front of Lawrence She scanned the crowd behind him, her eyes pinpointing Winnie's figure, stinging like a thorn in her gaze.
Tears glistening, she tilted her head up to look at Lawrence, her voice imbued with earnest emotion. "Lawrence, since I promised you, I will donate what I treasure most to Madam Rodriguez for her recovery. If I had any thoughts of reneging, I wouldn't have come here today."
Rising to her feet and tipping on her toes, she edged closer to Lawrence, her doe eyes shimmering with hope. With careful pleading, she added, "I've kept my promise, after Madam Rodriguez's surgery, will you keep yours to me? Please don't forget what you promised."
She emphasized her last words, which carried to Winnie's ears.
Olivia heard it too and glared at Ishara, whispering furiously to Winnie, "She's putting on such a horrendous act here. Doesn't she owe Madam Rodriguez her spinal marrow? She acts as if she's granting a huge favor."
"What does that mean? What else did Lawrence promise her?" she asked.
Winnie's gaze was equally frosty, shifting away from Ishara's pale, frail-looking face. Frowning, she noticed Ishara looked healthier and a bit plumper.
Perhaps, she had been looking after her health so thoroughly recently.
Lawrence did not respond to Ishara's words. His unflinching gaze leading his stride, he distanced himself from Ishara.
His eyes were icy as he commanded, "Let's go to the operating room. Remember what I just said. No tricks. If my mother survives today, you can leave that operating table."
His threat seeped into Ishara's bones; a shiver ran down her spine. His implication was clear. If she refused to donate, he would forcibly extract what he needed.
Such ruthless indifference from a man, but fortunately, Ishara was prepared.
A silent confidence rose within her as she gripped the arm of the wheelchair, allowing Claire to wheel her into the operation room.
Lawrence and Jeremy watched from the hallway as her figure disappeared.
In the operating room, Ishara lay on the bed while Leo, donning a surgical mask, successfully blended in among the few surgeons.
Ishara caught his eye; he subtly nodded back, carrying a cryogenic medical cooler in his hands.
The transplant surgery began.
Lawrence's breath hitched.
His deep gaze fixed on the light outside the OR, his silhouette unyielding and still.
Sidney stood beside his father’s chair, a bundle of nerves.
The hallway was eerily quiet.
Winnie was also on edge, deeply worried about Madam Rodriguez.
To alleviate the tension, Olivia tried to shift the focus. "You know, Lawrence hasn't been particularly kind to Ishara, if we think about it. Did you catch what he said earlier? It seemed like he was treating her merely as a means to an end, no emotional attachment whatsoever! I wouldn't be surprised if his engagement to Ishara was merely a transaction for today's surgery! When it comes to saving his mother, he would resort to any means necessary."
Olivia paused, a complex look flickering across her face. "But, Winnie, maybe we can't just label him a jerk. If my mom was sick and I had to play nice with a guy, I'd do it too. Would you?"
Caught in contemplation, Winnie didn't want to answer that question.
"Still, Lawrence can be pretty heartless. He didn't even pretend with Ishara. I mean, what does that scheming woman see in him, his icy indifference?" Olivia continued her rant, inadvertently drawing Winnie's gaze to the man in question.
He stood there, awaiting the surgery outcome, his heart surely enduring agony. His profile was starkly etched with tension, veins visible against the tight skin on his temples.
Lawrence dearly loved Madam Rodriguez, but he had refused to see his mother before the operation.
A pang of sympathy struck Winnie unguardedly at that moment, softening her toward both him and Madam Rodriguez.
In this newfound empathy, she reached a decision.