Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife

After speaking, Abigail walked toward Pullan.

Pullan saw Abigail’s angry face. What did her words mean just now?

The next moment, Abigail raised a silver needle toward him. “You… you’re with them? You’re the one who betrayed the second young master…”

Before he finished speaking, Abigail jabbed the needle into him.

She thought of Pullan’s previous words and cursed, “Lunatic.”

After cursing, Abigail turned back to the operating table, pulled out the needle from the girl on the hospital bed, sealed the blood bag, and shouted while searching, “Brandon Piers, Brandon, if you’re still alive, make a sound?”

But no one responded to her.

Abigail’s face grew more and more serious. The longer the delay, the more dangerous Brandon’s condition became.

“Brandon, listen. I’m Abigail Green. If I don’t help you now, you’re as good as dead. But if you leave it to me, there might still be a way out. Rather than dying here and leaving behind an old parent and a young child, why not take a gamble? You might win.” The laboratory was large. She had just searched all possible hiding places and found nothing. That only meant Brandon had hidden himself.

After she finished speaking, the entire laboratory was so quiet a pin drop could be heard.

Still, no one responded to her.

Abigail’s heart sank bit by bit, filled with regret, helplessness, and indescribable emotions.

Bang!

Just when Abigail thought there was no hope, there was a bang from under the girl’s bed. Abigail’s nerves tensed as she rushed over, bent down, and lifted the disposable surgical sheet, seeing a man lying underneath, his face pale as paper.

It was Brandon Piers.

The sound just now was from the man’s body collapsing on the floor.

Abigail frowned.

Indeed, it was the most overlooked place. She had searched so many spots and forgot to check under the girl’s bed.

Looking at the man pale as death with weak breathing, Abigail dared not delay, pushed the surgical bed aside, fully exposing Brandon to her view.

The surgery was only halfway done. Brandon’s chest cavity was opened, and his sternum sawed apart, held open with professional instruments. Fortunately, the aorta hadn’t been cut yet; otherwise, not even gods and goddesses could save this man.

Abigail took a deep breath, positioned him flat without touching the open chest area.

Moving him back onto the surgical bed was out of the question. When searching earlier, she noticed all the surgical instruments were intact, indicating the opposition hadn’t planned for someone else to perform surgery on Brandon; they hadn’t destroyed the lab.

Standing up, she hooked up all the instruments, quickly sterilized, changed into sterile clothing, and then crouched in front of Brandon again.

Staring at the bloodless yet still handsome, even sickly beautiful Brandon, Abigail cursed softly, “You didn’t believe me. What’s the use of looking good, stupid man!”

She raised the scalpel, but just then, the man with weak breathing suddenly opened his eyes.

His slender amber eyes, filled with a blood-red hue, stared at Abigail sharply like a reaper, full of resentment and hatred. But upon seeing it was Abigail, he was stunned, confusion and bewilderment appearing in his eyes, though his mouth opened and closed without making a sound.

Snapping back to her senses, Abigail commanded, “Don’t move. Don’t speak. We continue the surgery. You might not trust me, but right now, I’m all you’ve got.”

It wasn’t clear if Brandon heard Abigail, but his expression visibly softened before he closed his eyes again.