Chapter 277

Sebastian Valdemar's tall figure cast a long shadow under the corridor lights. He took one last look at the glaring red light above the operating room before turning away, his polished shoes clicking urgently against the floor.

From the shadows of the corner, a pair of eyes observed everything.

Evelyn Roland strode swiftly through the sterilization corridor, the hem of her white coat fluttering. She pulled on sterile gloves with practiced ease, though her fingertips trembled slightly.

"The fetus has..." The nurse hesitated, then turned her face away as she handed over the surgical gown.

Under the surgical lights, Olivia Valdemar's pale face looked as fragile as paper. The monitor emitted a shrill alarm as her blood pressure continued to plummet.

"Hemostat." Evelyn's voice was terrifyingly calm.

The lead surgeon's forehead beaded with sweat. "Dr. Roland, the blood loss is too severe—"

"I said, hemostat."

The scalpel in her hand traced a precise arc. Blood splattered across her goggles, but she didn't even blink.

"Olivia, can you hear me?" Evelyn suddenly raised her voice. "Howard is filing for custody of Theodore."

The EKG on the monitor spiked violently.

"Howard will move into the Valdemar estate with that woman who hit you." Her hands never stopped working, but her voice softened. "Do you really want Theodore calling another woman 'Mom'?"

A single tear slid from the corner of Olivia's tightly shut eyes.

"Blood pressure rising!"

"Prepare for transfusion, now!"

The operating room erupted into frantic activity. Only when the lines on the monitor stabilized did Evelyn realize her back was drenched in cold sweat.

Meanwhile, at the Valdemar mansion.

Howard Merouin struggled to rise from the pool of blood, his ribs screaming with excruciating pain. He fumbled for his phone—thirty-seven missed calls lit up the screen.

All from his lawyer.

The latest text message froze the blood in his veins: "Ms. Valdemar suffered a miscarriage with severe hemorrhaging. Currently in critical condition."

The phone clattered to the floor. Howard suddenly remembered the look in Sebastian's eyes before he left—it wasn't anger.

It was the look one gives a dead man.