The Amazing Son in Law The Charismatic Charlie Wade

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!”

“Bruce,

life-threatening situation, and you’re

offered, “Where

ill-equipped, Bruce insisted, “Prepare a private treatment room. No other doctor

targeted preparations. Bruce hesitated but courageously disclosed, “It’s my little brother… It’s at least two or three times bigger than usual. I feel like it’s about to burst

shit!” Mark exclaimed, “Did you take any

like

to the hospital. I’ll prepare the room. If it’s as bad as you say,

uncontrollably, his fear palpable as he stammered, “I…I’ll be there right away!” He tossed the phone aside, locking eyes with Camilla and the other girl, urgency in his voice,

afraid you can’t put on pants in

looked down, a sinking feeling in his heart. The awkward posture made wearing pants impossible unless

inspiration, Camilla suggested, “Warden, how about I get

urging, “Go

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

relentlessly piercing him. Yet, he understood the gravity of the situation, he had to

of Bruce Weinstein’s car,

at the hospital entrance. Bruce Weinstein’s close friend Mark awaited, pushing a wheelchair

Witnessing Bruce Weinstein curled up in pain, Mark questioned, “Bruce, are you

Fool’s Day. I don’t have the energy for pranks. For God’s sake, get me to the

silhouette through the

“Mark, I’m not here for

relief drugs first. Then, we’ll perform an angiogram

agony, veins protruding, urged,