What?! How's that possible?" Ana Lucy's heart thudded violently in her chest.
Panic surged through her veins as she pushed herself to slightly sit up.
"Do you know by doing what I am doing, I'm risking my career?" The doctor's expression turned serious, his lips a thin line, indifference masking the fear simmering behind his eyes.
He cast his gaze toward the door, ensuring no one hears their conversation.
"Remember our agreement, Dr. Roland," she said sweetly, her voice barely above a whisper yet laced with authority. "If blood fails, I give you cash. So give me your account number."
Ana Lucy was never in such a critical condition as the doctor claimed, nor was she in need of blood.
Dr. Roland hesitated, caught off guard by her unwavering confidence. He had expected her to express panic and pleading, but Ana Lucy's composure unnerved him. She smiled knowingly, revealing nothing of her true motives.
