Chapter 4

After hanging up Lincoln's accusatory call, Cara glanced at Selina, who was lounging on the large bed, enjoying the air conditioning and eating ice cream. "Aren't you afraid I'll take a picture of you like this and send it to Lincoln?" Cara asked. Selina remained unfazed. "Go ahead. What can he do? He'll probably praise me for recovering well and staying emotionally stable." "Unlike you," Selina added with a smirk, "always walking around with that gloomy face. He must be sick of it by now." Cara scoffed. "You're the first mistress I've ever seen who acts so self-righteous. Selina, have you forgotten how you used to proclaim you'd 'rather die than be the other woman'?" Selina's face turned red, then pale. Embarrassed and furious, she stepped forward to argue but suddenly stopped a meter away. A moment later, she pulled the oxygen tube from the headboard and shoved it into Cara's hands. "The woman that is not loved is the mistress," Selina sneered. "Let's see who he believes—me or you?" Before Cara could react, Selina dropped to her knees and kowtowed at Cara's feet. "Cara, please, give me the oxygen tube! I can’t breathe!" Cara froze in confusion. The next second, the hospital room door burst open with a loud bang. Lincoln stormed in, scooped Selina into his arms, and grabbed the oxygen tube from Cara's hands, swiftly placing it back on Selina. His movements were precise, almost like he was performing an emergency procedure. "Selina, how are you feeling now?" he asked, his voice tense with concern. Selina leaned weakly against his chest, her breaths faint. "Don't blame Cara," she murmured feebly. "She only lost control because I took Mr. Ramsey's bone marrow... It's all my fault." Lincoln's eyes darkened, his voice calm but laced with suppressed anger. "I was the one who insisted Selina undergo the treatment. If you have any complaints, take them out on me. But you should never endanger a patient’s life." Cara remained composed. She pointed to the surveillance camera in the corner of the room. "I didn’t do anything. If you don’t believe me, check the footage. Besides—" she paused, her voice cold, "it’s just an oxygen tube. She wouldn’t have been in any real danger. Don’t forget, my father’s life support was cut off for a full ten minutes." A flicker of hostility flashed in Lincoln's eyes. "Fine, let’s check. I’ll see how long you can keep denying it." As he moved to stand, Selina tugged at his sleeve weakly, shaking her head. "Don’t, please. I don’t want you to see me in pain. I don’t want you to worry... I believe Cara didn’t mean to hurt me. Let’s give her another chance." She bent over, coughing violently, her frailty triggering a flash of alarm in Lincoln’s eyes, like a doctor facing a critically ill patient. "Alright, alright, no need to check," he relented, his tone softening as he stroked her back. "Your emotional stability is the most important thing right now." Then, turning to Cara, he issued his command with a voice that brooked no argument, like a doctor delivering a prescription. "However Selina begged you just now, you’ll do the same for her. This is necessary psychological therapy." Cara’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Lincoln, I didn’t do anything wrong. I won’t admit to something I didn’t do, and I definitely won’t beg her! Don’t tell me you’re going to stoop so low as to use my father’s life to force me into submission again?" Lincoln loomed closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over her, his gaze as cold and unyielding as a physician confronting a noncompliant family member. "Cara, as a doctor, I never need to explain my decisions to anyone." He gestured toward the door, and several towering medical staff entered immediately. With a slight lift of his chin, Lincoln gave his next order, his tone calm yet authoritative. "Make her apologize to the patient, exactly as I instructed." "And open the door," he added. "Let everyone in the hospital see the consequences of refusing treatment." The medical staff, accustomed to obeying his every word, acted without hesitation. Two of them seized Cara by the arms, while another stood behind her. Cara struggled with all her might, her hair disheveled, tears streaming down her face. "Lincoln, you’ll regret this!" she screamed, her voice hoarse with desperation. Lincoln looked down at her, his pristine white coat unwrinkled, his expression as detached as if he were observing an irrational family member. "Letting you avoid reality today would be the greatest irresponsibility toward you." Cara locked eyes with his icy gaze and, defeated, stopped resisting. She went limp, like a lifeless doll, as the staff grabbed her by the hair and forced her head down onto the cold, hard marble floor. Bang! Bang! Bang! Each impact thundered in her skull, sending waves of searing pain through her forehead, as if her bones were being ground to dust. The loud noises drew the attention of people passing by in the hallway, who stopped to peer into the room, their faces full of shock and curiosity.