Wait, She’s a Billionaire (Sheena Lawson) novel Chapter 122

Chapter 122 

A week?” Sheena frowned in contemplation and rejected. “No, that’s too long. Is there a method to have her wake up within two days?” 

“Two days?” Noah was taken aback by his sister’s request and said, “The method I mentioned would be the safest, but if you want it within two days…” 

He pondered momentarily before adding, “Then there’s only the last and riskiest procedure.” 

“What is it?” Sheena’s doe–like eyes lit up eagerly, and she asked, “Noah, how confident are you?” 

“It’s called the Deep Brain Stimulation. It’s an elective surgical procedure in which electrodes are implanted into certain brain areas, and the surgical risk is quite high. Even for me, I can only guarantee a forty percent success rate. Are you sure you want to take this risk?” 

Even Noah, an elite in the medical field, only had a 40% success rate for the surgery. 

If it failed… 

Sheena hesitated briefly before looking at Noah with determination. “Let’s try it! No matter what, I trust you, Noah. Prepare yourself. We’ll start soon.” 

Howard knocked on the door and poked his head in, asking, “Is there anything I can help with? 

“You came just in time.” Noah cleared his throat, then added, “Do you have a room in mansion suitable for a makeshift operating room?” 

your 

“The room my private physician stayed in before is suitable. I’ll have the servants prepare it,” Howard replied, well aware of his intention. 

Noah nodded, arranging the equipment he brought over, and followed Howard out. 

“Noah, I’ll be your assistant,” Sheena said and followed them out, walking alongside them into the room that belonged to the private physician. 

Noah surveyed the room and appeared to be satisfied. “Great. The equipment is all here. We’ll bring in the patient after the servants disinfect the room.” 

Auntie Gloria and several servants entered, quickly tidying up the entire room. 

After their helpers gently placed Hannah on the operating table, Noah steadily aimed his tools at her head, preparing for the first step. 

“Sheena, check the power source.” 

He double–checked the instruments one last time, ensuring everything was in order. “Everything’s ready.” 

Sheena stood silently behind Noah, watching him immerse himself in the procedure. 

Almost five hours passed, yet Noah’s hand holding the surgical knife remained steady, with a 

thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. 

Sheena carefully held a handkerchief, standing beside him, occasionally wiping the sweat 

from his brow. 

“Forceps,” Noah said, extending his hand. 

Sheena did not waste time and promptly handed him the forceps.