Chapter 161

Latisha was running a fever.

It was higher than ever before-108.5 degrees. The doctor's eyes widened in alarm when he saw the reading. He scrambled to bring it down with ice packs and fever- reducing medication, using every tool at his disposal.

Clifford stood silently to the side, his gaze fixed on her wrists. They were raw, a ring of broken skin. After being soaked in water, the chafing was even more pronounced —the flesh pale and puffy, the deep ligature marks standing out in stark relief.

After two frantic hours, the doctor finally saw the temperature drop on the thermometer and collapsed into a chair, exhausted.

"Mr. Lambert, it's come down. She's at 102 now. We'll need to monitor her through the night to see if it spikes again, but if it doesn't, she should be out of immediate danger."

Clifford nodded curtly. "Are there any other injuries?"

The doctor paused, realizing he'd been so focused on the fever that he hadn't done a full assessment.

“Let me check again.” His eyes immediately fell on Latisha's wrists. He gently lifted her arm, then pulled back the blanket to examine her ankles.

"It looks... it looks like she was tied up. These marks are from struggling against restraints. Look here," he said, pointing. "The rope nearly cut into her flesh."

He continued his examination. "There are bruises, too. I can't be certain they're from a beating; they could be from a fall."

Clifford's jaw was tight as he stared at the woman on the bed, saying nothing.

The doctor then inspected her head and face. "There's a cut on her scalp, with some bleeding. It looks like her hair was pulled, and forcefully."

His voice trailed off as he spoke, the grim picture coming into focus.

What kind of torture had this woman endured? He glanced nervously at Clifford, whose expression was unreadable, but his eyes were a storm of complex emotions. "Mr. Lambert..."

"Fix her," Clifford said suddenly, his voice low and dangerous, making the doctor jump. "If you can't save her, you're dead."

The doctor stared, frozen. The man didn't sound like he was making an idle threat.

"Y-yes, of course. I understand." All thoughts of resting vanished. He scrambled to his feet and fumbled with his medical bag.

Clifford sat nearby, his unblinking gaze a constant surveillance. Even with nothing left to do for the moment, the doctor felt compelled to look busy. He pressed his fingers totatisha's wrist to check her pulse.

And his blood ran cold.

This woman's condition was far more fragile than her surface injuries suggested. It was as if she'd been hollowed out from the inside If he had to guess, shed suffered a recent miscarriage, and with no time for recovery, her body had been left vulnerable to a cascade of other ailments. She was an empty shell.

He glanced cautiously at Clifford.

"Speak."

V

Clifford's sharp command made the doctor flinch, snatching his hand back. The words on the tip of his tongue-She won't last long like this-were swallowed back down. He was terrified Clifford would hold has to his word and demand a cute he couldn't provide.

So he lied. "Mrs. Lambert's injuries are mostly superficial, sir. Nothing critical. She has a strong constitution."

Clifford's eyes bored into him, as if trying to see through the deception. After a long moment, he finally looked away, pulling out his phone as it began to ring.

It was Yesenia.

“Clifford, you have to come save me! There's a producer here trying to take advantage of me! The bastard doesn't even know who I am."

"Put him on the phone."

"I can't! I'm hiding in the bathroom. I think... I think they put something in my drink. These awful people... please, just come get me..."

Clifford glanced at Latisha, still unconscious on the bed. After a moment of silence, he said, "Send me the address."

A moment later, it arrived.