The Divorced Heiress Revenge (Bella Thompson) novel Chapter 705

Chapter 705 

Bella entered the office after knocking on the door. 

“Dr. Cartman.” 

“Ms. Thompson, you look flushed. Are you unwell?” Noticing her rosy cheeks, Scott asked out of concern. 

“Uh, I’m fine.” 

Once again, Justin proved a bastard to Bella. She took a deep breath 

and touched her hot cheek. “Do we have the test result of the CT scan on Justin’s brain yet?” 

have it with me.” 

Scott pulled out a scan from his drawer and handed it to Bella. 

Bella took the scan and observed it under the light. 

Suddenly, she furrowed her brow, and her heart sank. 

“I’m sure you can see it too, Ms. Thompson.” 

Scott looked anxious. “The surgery was a success. I believe no more than three in the country can pull off the operation.” 

“A success? Do you think the surgery was a success?” 

Unable to shake off the frustration, Bella put down her trembling arms. The CT scan rustled along with her movements. “The way I see it, it’s a failure on my part because the patient suffers complications.” 

Of all the things she could put up with, she could never tolerate failure. 

Yet, Justin was once again the reason she tasted failure. 

Bella clutched her blouse, her emotions consuming her. 

“The complications are bound to happen with such a risky and difficult surgery. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You did a great job saving Mr. Salvador’s life.” Scott persuaded her because he knew what Dr. Brown was capable of. 

“That explains why he was so emotional when he saw me,” Bella murmured. 

She clenched her fists. “Is there any way to treat the side effects?” 

Scott sighed. “For now, the best way forward is to control his 

symptoms with sedatives. 

“If the patient is able to keep his cool and a level head, he should be able to stop his own outbursts.” 

Keep his cool? 

Justin cooled off after kissing her. 

Bella blushed and gritted her teeth. 

Curing physical illness was simple, but matters of the heart were a different story. 

It was the middle of the night. 

In a plush, velvet-lined lounge in Pivotage, two women, dressed rather 

provocatively, were attending to Christopher. 

By attending, they were keeping him company and filling his glass with wine. 

It was well-known in Pivotage that Christopher was a germaphobe These women would be digging their own graves by getting handsy with the man. 

Under the dim light, Christopher sank his back against the sofa with his head thrown back. His profile was breathtaking. 

One of the women was so captivated by his looks that she spilled alcohol over Christopher’s pristine shoe. 

“Uh! I’m so sorry, Mr. Iverson! I’m so sorry!” Frightened, the woman got up and apologized profusely.