Chapter 2 The Last Breath

Scarlett's POV

"This is the third time the old lady has collapsed," Barry said worriedly. "The doctors say she's experiencing heart failure. I'm afraid... the prognosis isn't good..."

Gabriel's face instantly transformed into something horrifying. He turned to me with a venomous glare: "You'd better pray my grandmother survives! If anything happens to her, I won't let you go!"

After spitting these words through gritted teeth, Gabriel stormed out of the room.

I frowned. While I wasn't concerned about Gabriel's threats, we had just signed marriage papers, and I needed to understand what was happening. After a rational analysis of the situation, I followed him.

I tracked Gabriel's determined strides through the opulent hallways of the Rothschild Estate. Despite my lingering weakness from the Dream Herb, I maintained my composure, alert to my surroundings like the trained operative I was.

When we reached the bedroom, the scene hit me with clinical clarity. An elderly woman with elegant silver hair lay motionless on a massive four-poster bed. Medical equipment beeped ominously around her, transformed what was once a luxurious bedroom into a makeshift ICU.

"How is she?" Gabriel demanded, his marble-carved features cracking with emotion.

"Not good, sir," said a doctor in an expensive suit. "Her vitals are dropping rapidly."

I hung back, assessing the situation with professional detachment. The old woman—Alice Rothschild, I presumed—was clearly in critical condition. The medical team looked competent but overwhelmed.

Suddenly, the steady beep of the heart monitor transformed into a continuous, piercing wail. The flatline cut through the room like a knife.

"No!" Gabriel rushed forward as the medical team scrambled.

After several frantic minutes of chest compressions and medications, the lead physician stepped back, his expression grim.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Rothschild. Your grandmother has passed away. Please accept my condolences."

Gabriel's face contorted with rage and grief. "I don't believe it! Continue resuscitation efforts. Whatever it takes, whatever the cost!"

The doctor sighed softly. "Mr. Rothschild, your grandmother experienced heart failure. Further resuscitation would be futile."

"No," Gabriel's voice cracked with raw emotion. "Grandmother wouldn't leave like this! She promised to see me married, to meet her great-grandchildren!"

The room fell deathly silent. No one dared speak until a tall, slightly overweight man with graying hair broke the tension with a cold laugh.

"That's enough, Gabriel," he sneered. "Your words are meaningless now. Grandmother was devastated by Victoria's disappearance—your runaway bride. Her death is partly your responsibility."

I recognized him immediately as Derek Rothschild, Gabriel's much older brother. The family resemblance was there, but where Gabriel's features were sharp and refined, Derek's held a perpetual look of dissatisfaction.

"If you can't even control your fiancée," Derek continued, "how can we trust you to manage the family business? If you have any remorse for Grandmother, surrender your CEO position and shares, and step away from the family enterprise."

Gabriel's lips thinned to a hard line as he suppressed his emotions.

A man in a wheelchair—Philip Rothschild, I guessed—spoke up. "Brother, Gabriel is Grandmother's chosen successor. Demanding his position and shares at a time like this is disgraceful!"

A perfectly made-up woman with venom in her eyes—Catherine, Derek's wife—cut in. "Philip, you have no voice in this family! Gabriel is unworthy of his position, and the CEO role and shares must be surrendered!"

She leaned toward Philip with calculated cruelty. "A cripple who contributes nothing to the family business shouldn't aspire to a share, either."

Philip gripped his knees painfully, silenced by her brutal words.

I'd been observing the old woman throughout this exchange, and something caught my attention.

"The old lady can still be saved," I said quietly.

All eyes turned to me. Gabriel approached with murderous intent in his eyes, and I instinctively stepped back, muscles tensing for potential combat.

"Isn't that the Langley heiress who ran away?" someone whispered.

"How dare she show her face in the Rothschild home?" another added.

I ignored them all, meeting Gabriel's gaze directly. "May I examine her?"

The room nearly exploded with shock.

Catherine's laugh was as sharp as broken glass. "Miss Langley, have you lost your mind? Since when do you have medical knowledge?"

I maintained eye contact with Gabriel, ignoring her. "Since the doctors have no solution, what harm is there in letting me try? The outcome can't be worse than the current situation."

The medical staff bristled with indignation, and the Rothschild family members glared at me with hatred, waiting for their CEO to have me thrown out.

Gabriel studied my calm face intensely, the murderous intent in his eyes surprisingly dissipating.

Derek slammed his fist on a nearby table. "The Rothschild family won't tolerate this nonsense from some girl! Security, remove her immediately!"

Several security personnel moved forward to drag me away.

"MY people, STOP!" Gabriel's commanding voice froze everyone in place. Standing over six foot three, his powerful presence crushed any rebellion. Even the troublemaking Derek and Catherine reluctantly fell silent.

"If you can actually do this," he said, his voice hesitating despite the request, "please."

I began examining the old woman, my hands still trembling from the Dream Herb's lingering effects and Gabriel's earlier assault on my throat. My movements appeared clumsy to the onlookers.

"I need hot towels and essential oils," I requested.

The doctors laughed, and the others regarded me with contempt. They obviously thought heart failure couldn't possibly be treated with massage.

I applied the oil to my hands and began precisely pressing specific vital points on the old woman's body. My trembling hands made each movement look perilous, adding to the tension in the room.

I pressed the first vital point. Nothing happened.

The second. Nothing.

By the fifth vital point, the old woman still showed no signs of improvement; her face grew even paler. My sweat slid down my face, but my hands dared not stop.

By the ninth vital point, the old woman's face had turned a ghastly shade of blue, as if she were holding her breath, and still no response. The room's patience had evaporated.

"Stop this!" Derek bellowed. "You little fraud, treating us like fools! Using Grandmother's body for your charade—you're asking for trouble!"

Catherine's sharp voice cut through the air. "Gabriel, are you trying to kill your grandmother? You'll do anything for the inheritance, won't you?"

Philip's face darkened with disappointment. "Gabriel, are you really going to let this girl continue this mockery?"

While they berated me, I steadily moved to the final vital point—the most crucial step in the entire process. I worried Gabriel might succumb to family pressure and stop me, but I pressed on.

Success or failure depends on this last point, I thought, summoning all my remaining strength.