Anticipating relief, Bruce was dismayed to find the ice cubes utterly ineffective. The agonizing pain and severe swelling persisted unabated.

His face contorted in anguish, Bruce, once a formidable warden, now crumpled to the ground, resembling a little girl soiling her skirt and weeping in a muddy puddle.

Concerned, Camilla queried, “Mr. Warden, is it any better?”

Bruce shook his head between sobs, despairingly admitting, “Help me think of something. I can’t endure this. It’s too much…”

Flustered, Camilla stammered, “I can’t think of anything…”

Then, she suggested, “What if I call 911 for help? Should I?”

“No!” Bruce blurted, realizing the consequences. “Calling 911 would ruin all of us!”

Bruce comprehended the peril of being in a federal prison, with the Rothschild family connections. A scandal tonight could ruin his career and relationships.

Enduring the torment, he pleaded, “Go to my pocket, get my phone. I need to make a call, find someone to help.”

Relieved at the thought of assistance, Camilla hurriedly retrieved Bruce’s phone.

Bruce’s call for help wasn’t directed at Charlie, the recent acquaintance, but at a friend, a physician at a nearby hospital.

Impatiently, Bruce exclaimed, “Mark, where are you?”

A middle-aged voice responded, “On duty at the hospital. What’s wrong?”

Bruce urgently revealed, “I’m in trouble. You might be the only one who can help me!”

inquired, “Bruce,

confessed, “Worse. It’s a life-threatening

offered, “Where

treatment room. No other doctor should touch me.

least two or three times bigger than usual. I feel like it’s about to burst and I��m

shit!” Mark exclaimed, “Did

swelled suddenly, like it’s

If

“I…I’ll be there right away!” He tossed the phone aside, locking eyes with Camilla and the

I’m afraid you can’t

his heart. The awkward

inspiration, Camilla suggested, “Warden, how about I

agreed without hesitation, urging, “Go quickly, fetch

sunglasses and masks, flanked Bruce Weinstein, hastily wrapped in a bathrobe. The trio hurriedly made their way out of the

torture akin to needles relentlessly piercing him. Yet, he understood the gravity

Camilla, behind the wheel of Bruce

hospital entrance. Bruce Weinstein’s

Bruce Weinstein curled up in

the brink, retorted, “Mark, it’s not April Fool’s Day. I don’t have the energy for pranks.

the severity, swiftly assisted Bruce Weinstein out of the car. Observing Bruce’s silhouette

Weinstein, exasperated, exclaimed, “Mark, I’m

drugs first. Then, we’ll perform an

in agony, veins protruding, urged, “Hurry

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