Chapter 545 The Aftermath
Dr. Moore stood there, a look of dumbfounded agreement on his face. "When Madam Rodriguez was first admitted, we ran some blood tests and discovered that she had a spinal cord necrosis and leukemia, but at that time, unable to find the cause, I looked into the two pills you had been administering to Madam Rodriguez and Ms. Winnie."
Lawrence's gaze was sharp, cutting Dr. Moore off before he could continue.
Winnie caught the exchange of looks between them, and a suspicion flickered through her mind.
She finally understood why Lawrence had kept Madam Rodriguez's illness a secret from her from the start.
He genuinely believed that Madam Rodriguez's leukemia was her doing, and the one providing this basis was none other than Dr. Moore.
As a respected hematologist, Lawrence had no reason to doubt his expertise.
Winnie remembered how Lawrence had been wary of her when Madam Rodriguez was hospitalized and how he prohibited her from examining the patient.
The complexity in his eyes when he looked at her.
With a mixture of self-mockery and bitter irony, she thought about how Dr. Moore's diagnosis had sown a seed of discord between them, leading to endless misunderstandings and irreconcilable differences.
"The pills I gave Madam Rodriguez were safe," Winnie said with a bittersweet yet resolute smile. "They indeed contained some highly toxic and chemical ingredients, but I had studied them carefully three years ago. They counteracted each other and wouldn't cause irreversible damage to the patient's body. In other words, Dr. Moore, you overlooked something. If my pills were the cause, Madam Rodriguez would have developed leukemia long before now."
Dr. Moore, pondering over her words, became rigid, realization dawning on him about the misunderstanding his initial speculation may have caused Lawrence His face drained of color. He trembled as he faced Lawrence "Lawrence, what I meant was that it was highly probable. And you asked me to retest Ms. Winnie’s pills ten days ago. The toxic and chemical components are there; I didn't make a mistake in my testing."
The expression on Lawrence's face had changed, and a silent wave of remorse and guilt filled his thoughts.
He had believed Dr. Moore; he thought that by keeping the truth from Winnie, he was protecting her.
She wouldn't have to live with the guilt and pain over her mother's condition.
In the end, it turned out that Winnie had done everything correctly. She clarified with an open heart that there was nothing wrong with her medication.
The one with the problem was Ishara.
From the very beginning, she had been scheming, plotting against everyone close to him, Oscar, Madam Rodriguez, and Winnie.
Lawrence was engulfed in agony. If only he had taken notice of the telltale signs earlier, it wouldn't have come to this.
Winnie understood the collapse happening within him at that moment, and she said slowly, "It's a tragic mistake.
“You needed to be more knowledgeable.
"Strictly speaking, you can't be blamed.
“Lawrence, you’re just too imperious. You act on your every whim.
"You think hiding things from me is for my good, and so it is.
"Little did you know that Ishara had targeted you without your slightest suspicion, prearranging her flawless plot.
"Melanie once told me Ishara, under the guise of her illness, has been secretly conducting lab experiments.
"If you have any doubts that she injected a chemical toxin into your mother, then Melanie's words should clear your confusion.
"Ishara probably has a medical background. She knows pharmacology well, which is why she could feign illness convincingly.
"And obviously, she has people around who are skilled in poisoning.
"The way Oscar ended up in her hands, you can see she's far from simple."
After a moment of silence, Lawrence managed to choke out three words with a lump in his throat, "I'm sorry."
His voice grew hoarse with the weight of the apology.
"Winnie, I apologize for my past arrogance. If only I had trusted you a little more back then, be honest with you, but there are no ifs in life."
Lawrence's eyes were brimming with bitterness as he punched the wall in anguish.
Winnie's lashes trembled; her innocence had finally been vindicated.
Without concrete evidence, he chose to believe her words, to believe that Madam Rodriguez's spinal cord had indeed been tampered with by Ishara.
Winnie was not unshaken deep down.
He had unconditionally taken her side.
So, she decided it was time to disclose the purpose of their conversation.
Winnie looked up, fixing her gaze on the man whose eyes were bloodshot with emotion. "Now that Madam Rodriguez is safe.
You no longer need Ishara's spinal cord, the lethal threat against you is gone, and regarding Oscar…"
"There's no need for explanations. I will make Ishara pay for her crimes, one by one. Starting today, her hell begins," Lawrence said, each word with a chilling determination, a cold fury rising between his brows.
He had been anticipating the day his mother's surgery would be over, hellbent on making Ishara give up Oscar by any means necessary.
It tuned out, Ishara was the mastermind behind it all.
She couldn’t escape damnation. It was inconceivable.
Winnie's breath quivered. "I want to see an energetic Oscar as soon as possible."
"I understand," Lawrence said before striding away. He called Jeremy over, his voice icy and commanding, "Lock Ishara up. Don't let anyone see her. I'm going to interrogate her personally, no matter the cost."
Winnie leaned heavily against the wall, eyes reddened, finally comprehending the truth. Perhaps, he had also been waiting for this day in his heart.
‘Lawrence, you said you would do it, so don't let my hopes be dashed again.’
When Ishara regained consciousness, the world was swaying around her. Blinking her eyes, she realized she was lying inside a vehicle.
Claire and Leo were nowhere to be found.
During the transplant surgery, in order to deceive the medical team, Leo extracted Ishara's pre-frozen spinal marrow. After administering a cooling anesthetic to Ishara, she lost consciousness.
But now, as she regained consciousness, she realized she was not in the hospital. Ishara's mind raced, her face pale as she saw a bodyguard seated next to her, while a driver navigated the road ahead.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
The bodyguard sneered, "Ishara, Mr. Lawrence instructed us to make sure you're well taken care of."
"I want to go home!" She started to panic.
The bodyguard sat unmoved. "Mr. Lawrence hasn't authorized your return home. Don't make this difficult for us."
"Where is he taking me? I just donated my spinal marrow to Madam Rodriguez. You'd best be polite to me."
No matter what Ishara said, the bodyguard did not engage any further.
Half an hour later, the car came to a stop in front of a secluded villa nestled halfway up a hill, isolated, with no nearby buildings. Cries for help would go unanswered.
A flicker of panic brushed Ishara's heart as she surmised Lawrence would surely betray her; once Madam Rodriguez had her spinal marrow, Ishara's only leverage would disappear.
Her value would vanish.
And for kidnapping Oscar, there was no way Lawrence would let her go.
A reckoning after the fact.
She hadn't anticipated his swift and forceful actions.
His demeanor was brimming with loathing toward her.
Winnie must have said something to provoke him.
As she speculated, the car stopped completely, and the bodyguard’s grip tightened on her arm, dragging her out.
“Don’t pull on me, I’ll trip. I can walk by myself,” Ishara muttered, her eyes darting a dark look as her arm cautiously brushed her stomach.
Externally, she appeared frantic, but inwardly, she remained calm and composed.
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