FATHER OF A BASTARD SOM ASKED FOR A DIVORCE PLUS 50 MILLION

Chapter 4

The evening air was suffocating, matching the numb, heavy feeling in Michael’s chest of the way his life is moving at the period. He walked down the crowded street like a ghost in a haste to get to the bar to know what exactly has happened the night before, his hands stuffed deep into his coat pockets. His mind was spinning out of control—the image of the paternity report burned into his brain.

He was in a terrible haste to know, he has been waiting all along for a taxi to pickup as he stared at his wrist watch continuously.

Suddenly, a sharp, piercing shriek tore through the hum of evening traffic.

"Help! Someone please call an ambulance! My grandfather is having a heart attack, he’s dying!"

At first, his rage didn’t make him bother but his conscience was disturbed, he was forced to stop on his tracks.

Michael stopped in his tracks. A small crowd had already gathered on the sidewalk around a young woman, who was kneeling beside a pale, motionless elderly man slumped against the wall, they were all staring, videotaping and looking, no one could move close.

Despite the overwhelming heartache tearing him apart, Michael’s instincts took over. His medical training was deeply ingrained in his soul; even during the five quiet years he had spent as a live-in son-in-law catering to the Sterling family, he had never forgotten his oath as a healer.

Michael pushed past the onlookers in full speed and crouched down beside the old man. "Let me see him. I'm a doctor, I can help, you have to believe me please."

"Stay back!" the young woman yelled angrily, shoving her hands out to block him. Her eyes were red and panicked. "Don't touch him! The ambulance is on the way!"

Michael ignored her resistance, gently reaching out to feel the old man’s faint pulse and checking his dilated pupils.

"His airway is severely constricted, and his heart rate is plunging," Michael said, his tone dead serious. "We don't have time to wait for an ambulance. If we don't act right now, he won't survive the next three minutes."

"You're talking absolute nonsense!" the woman barked, her voice rising in defensive panic. "You don't know what you're talking about! Get away from my grandfather!"

Michael kept a perfectly calm face, staring straight into her eyes. "If you don't let me clear his blocked meridian pressure right now, he will start foaming at the mouth and convulsing within thirty seconds."

"Get lost!" she screamed, wrapping her arms protectively around the old man. "He's going to be fine!"

Michael let out a quiet sigh, raising his hands to begin emergency pressure-point resuscitation anyway. But before his fingers could touch the old man's chest, the elderly man suddenly gasped, his eyes rolling back as thick white foam began spilling frantically from his lips. His arms violently twitched in seizure-like convulsions.

The woman’s arrogance instantly turned into sheer terror. "Grandfather! Oh God, Grandfather!" She looked up at Michael, her voice cracking into desperate, sobbing pleas. "Please! Please save him! I'm sorry! Save my grandfather!"

Michael didn't waste a second. He reached into his inner coat pocket for his travel medical kit, but before he could act, an arrogant, booming voice yelled out from the edge of the crowd.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!"

A strong voice came through the miss of the crowd, everyone was shocked at who could stop a medical help at the middle of an emergency, who could it be, to speak authoritatively and bold in this manner to stop a man from dying.

Michael looked up at where the voice was coming from, he was stunned at what he just saw, in his heat was how.