The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 207

Miles lunged forward, catching her firmly by the waist.

He looked down, his pupils constricting in horror.

A dark pool of blood was blooming across her silk gown, spreading from her thigh down to her calf. It was a terrifying sight.

With trembling fingers, he lifted the hem of her dress.

Her left leg was wrapped in several thick layers of gauze, now completely soaked through, with crimson drops trailing down her skin.

After holding out for the entire evening, Claire had finally reached her breaking point.

She curled into his chest, her small face scrunched up as she whimpered in agony.

"Miles... my leg hurts so much..."

Outside the VIP ward at Central General Hospital.

Miles sat on the bench for two agonizing hours.

His phone screen lit up and went dark, playing the dashcam footage retrieved by the traffic police on a continuous loop.

In the video, Claire's car was driving normally down the road. A minute later, two SUVs with fake plates appeared out of nowhere. Without warning, they accelerated, aggressively boxing her in.

One on the left, one on the right. They sped up and slowed down, repeatedly ramming and scraping against her car like starving wolves toying with their prey.

With nowhere left to run, Claire decisively swerved into the guardrail, kicked the door open, and threw herself from the moving vehicle.

The sheer momentum sent her rolling violently across the asphalt four or five times before she smashed into the bushes.

Every time the video looped, it felt like a knife twisting in his gut. His knuckles ached from gripping the phone so hard.

She was hurt this badly, yet she endured the pain to show up at the manor and stand by his side through the entire ordeal.

He suddenly didn't understand her at all.

Miles's fingertips turned white, a storm of turbulent emotion breaking through his usually stoic facade.

"Stop watching that." Jared Johnston walked over, snatched the phone from his hands, and locked the screen.

His tone was exceptionally cold.

"It's just some severe superficial wounds. No bones were broken. She'll recover after some rest. Are you feeling sorry for her?"

Jared tossed a thick stack of medical reports onto the bench beside him, sneering.

"Don't waste your sympathy just yet. Take a good look at this."

Miles lowered his eyes. It was Quinn Lennox's pathology report.

The brain tumor was malignant, located in a highly dangerous area, making the surgical risk astronomically high. Almost no one in the country would dare touch it.

A single line was highlighted at the bottom of the report.

Globally, Dr. Alaric Thorne was the only surgeon with successful excision cases on record.

Dr. Thorne had been Miles's university mentor while he was studying abroad. The man was known for being eccentric and reclusive, but they maintained a close relationship. If Miles asked, Dr. Thorne would grant him the favor.

Those few lines felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head.

If she wanted him to ask a favor, she could have just told him. Did she really have to risk her life to play this game?

She didn't love him. She had never even trusted him.

Jared's words hit where it hurt most. "If I hadn't found this report, she would've won her little gamble. She bet that you'd feel so sorry for her that you'd forgive everything and agree to whatever she asked."

Miles shoved the report back into Jared's chest. "If the traffic police come by the hospital to investigate, let me know in advance."

"Miles, you..."

Jared gritted his teeth. This lovesick fool was completely beyond saving.

Inside the ward, Claire groggily opened her eyes. Everything was a blur of white, and the faint smell of antiseptic filled the air.

She tried to sit up, but the moment she moved, a piercing pain shot through her left leg.

He looked at her earnest expression, completely unable to detect a shred of deceit. His chest heaved—half of him utterly losing control, the other half painfully lucid, tearing him apart from the inside.

"By the way, Dr. Zimmerman, there's actually something I need to talk to you about."

Miles nodded, his lips pressing into a grim line.

"Quinn's test results came back. The brain tumor is malignant, and it's in a terrible spot."

Claire gripped his arm, her voice tentative. "Your mentor, Dr. Thorne, is the only one who can pull off this surgery."

"Could you ask him to come out of retirement and save Quinn?"

Just as Jared had said.

Miles's heart turned to lead, dead and cold.

He hadn't expected her to be so impatient. The sweet words had barely faded from the air before she demanded her payment.

Claire watched him. What did his silence mean? She couldn't tell if he was going to help or not.

He looked distant again. Was he waiting for her to show a little more sincerity?

She figured she needed to take the initiative.

Claire stabbed a piece of the apple he had just cut and brought it to his lips.

"Try it. It's really sweet."

Miles turned his head away. "I bought the fruit, and I peeled it. You're pretty good at smooth talking with my own efforts."

This man...

Claire refused to give up.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, held a piece of apple between her teeth, and pressed it against his cool lips...

She let out a soft moan.