Chapter 150

When Whitney arrived at the scene, Braxton had already been whisked away to a private hospital, and a crowd had gathered at the gates of the Tarrington Mansion. Braxton was a pillar of the community and head of the city’s administration, and many from the police force, government, and competing corporations had all come together to speculate and gossip.

The gravity of the situation was undeniable; if Braxton were to pass, the scandal surrounding Ludwik would be impossible to contain.

The pressure from these political powers was immense, and there was no doubt that competitors were stirring trouble behind the scenes.

Whitney felt her head spinning, and the cold air she breathed did nothing to calm her nerves.

Braxton had suffered another stroke.

Her mother had taught her acupuncture, a skill Whitney had a natural gift for, especially when it came to treating the brain. Some of her techniques were beyond the explanation of medicine, yet they worked wonders, targeting mysterious points on the body.

As a child, Whitney had even heard her mother speak of using acupuncture to manipulate someone’s memory and temperament by controlling the nerves in the skull, a practice her mother never actually pursued.

Years ago, it was through acupuncture that she had treated a man suffering from nocturnal epilepsy, restoring him to health.

ཋ འཆ ྾རྗ ༠ཆ ༢༅ ༤

Clutching her hands tightly, Whitney’s gaze hardened, and she immediately instructed the driver to take her to Braxton’s private hospital.

At the hospital, Whitney could only make it as far as the foyer. Braxton’s room was at the end of a hallway teeming with well–wishers, with Tarrington relatives standing guard at the very back.

Doctors were bustling in and out as the situation grew increasingly dire.

Whitney could only catch snippets of conversation about Braxton’s condition – a ruptured blood vessel in his brain was causing a hemorrhage, compressing the nerves. They could not operate for fear of aggravating the injury, and he was in a coma, unlikely to survive the night.

The most esteemed neurosurgeons had been summoned, but even they were helpless, declaring Braxton’s time

B = F3 F S

was near.

Tears streaked the faces of Braxton’s relatives, who were at a loss for what to do.

approach but was halted by security, who mistook her for a press member and tried to

alone speak to anyone from

the hospital entrance, checking her

pulled up, and a man with an imposing figure hurried out and dashed into

Bang!

the man. She nearly fell, but he quickly steadied her.

up, his worried eyes met hers, and he paused in recognition. “Whitney? What are you

what brings you to this hospital?” Whitney asked, looking

ill; he may not make it through the night. I was nearby for a function and came as soon as I

moment – Braxton.

Bryce’s mentor be….

grabbed Bryce’s sleeve, urgent. “Mr. Lutz, is

you also…” Bryce furrowed his brow. Then his

Braxton was ill.

intensity. “Your man has been taken into police custody. Your being here won’t change anything.”

cure Braxton!” Whitney insisted quickly.

you can’t just do as you please, Whitney. Human life is

off. for the night and refuse to operate, afraid

technique that can

you even have a medical license?” Bryce asked, still shocked.

an alternative medicine license back at home.”

shook his head, unconvinced. “You’re desperate to

Lutz! Please…” Whitney reached for his sleeve, but Bryce walked past her, his expression grave, and entered

Tarrington family knew him. With tears in his eyes, Braxton’s son led Bryce into the room. “My

Whitney’s words about Braxton’s condition were true.

seeing Braxton, Bryce’s face turned ashen. His mentor was on the brink of brain death, kept alive only by

Bryce stepped out into the hallway, his handsome face drawn with concern.

the gathering of relatives

the chill of the hallway. She managed

an hour later, lips pressed,

stood anxiously on the hospital

to a shadowed part of the hallway, his expression serious. “Is your acupuncture really effective? I’ve never heard of

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