Unable to reach Derek, Millie then dialed Marcus.


    After an anxious wait of more than ten seconds, the call connected.


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    She hurriedly inquired, “Honey, have you returned?”


    The absence of the rain’s patter led Millie to believe he was no longer outside, and she breathed a sigh


    of relief.


    Meanwhile, a doctor approached Marcus with an examination report.


    “Mr. Thomas, the bullet struck the main artery in the patient’s lungs, causing significant bleeding. He’s


    in a deepa. I must warn you, the chance of survival is minimal.”


    Marcus’ voice was unwavering as he ordered, “Save him, no matter what.”


    The doctor hesitated.


    “Mr. Thomas, this is extremely challenging.”


    “Enough,” Han’s voice cut in.


    “Perform the surgery immediately.


    And remember, no one must know about this, or there will be consequences.”


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    Understanding the gravity of the gunshot wound, the doctor nodded, perspiration on his brow.


    “Don’t worry. I understand.”


    Millie, who had just begun to rx, felt a fresh wave of fear. The bullet had prated someone’s


    lungs. Who was the patient?


    “Millie,” Marcus responded.


    “What’s going on? You’re injured, aren’t you?”


    Marcus reassured her, “Derek’s the one who’s injured. I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll apany him to the


    operating room.”


    Upon hearing of Derek’s injury, Millie’s thoughts seemed to freeze.


    It had only been a few hours since he had taken her home.


    “Okay.”


    Derek had been Marcus’ loyalpanion for years, risking his life on his behalf. Marcus would do


    everything in his power to save him.


    The operating room door closed, leaving Marcus in the corridor, worry etched on his face as the doctor


    began Derek’s surgery with trepidation.


    Han approached, his voice soft.