Chapter 412

Francesca’s expression hardened as she delivered the news to Ernest. She said coldly, “Our deputy chief has a message for you.”

Ernest was desperate, willing to do anything to save his life.

“What is it? Tell me quickly!” he demanded before another violent bout of blood-coughing seized him.

He clamped his mouth shut afterward, trying to minimize his speech to reduce the bleeding.

“He can’t return to the hospital,” Francesca stated professionally, softening the harsh message out of her medical duty to do no harm. “You should prepare yourself—this mysterious condition could be fatal.”

The news hit Ernest like a ton of bricks, and he nearly passed out from shock. A terrible realization dawned on him as he turned to his bodyguards with a blood-stained snarl.

“What are you idiots standing around for? Get me back there to find that guy, hurry!”

Ernest could feel his life force draining away with each passing moment. The taste of death was upon him, making his head spin with genuine fear.

Andrew was his only hope now. Despite his distrust of the young man, he had no choice but to try.

With his bodyguards’ support, the three of them rushed back to West End in desperate haste.

“Mr. Ramsey, were you… ambushed while you were out?” Natasha asked with feigned innocence, already knowing from Andrew what had caused Ernest’s condition.

She was amazed at how severe his symptoms were—he was barely breathing, and his shirt was drenched in blood.

“S–Save me… please, help me!” Ernest gasped like a fish out of water, making his final plea.

The female bodyguard’s voice rose to a threatening pitch. “If anything happens to Mr. Ramsey, you’ll all pay for it!”

“Kid, save him now,” the male bodyguard added menacingly. “If Mr. Ramsey dies, the Ramseys of Canraville will tear you apart and destroy your entire family!”

Andrew shrugged casually. “I was about to help, but your threats made my hands shake. Sorry, but I can’t save anyone with shaky hands—guess we’ll just have to watch him die.”

The bodyguards were furious but helpless. Ernest, somehow finding a last burst of strength, leaped up and slapped both bodyguards hard across their faces.

Ernest snarled through gritted teeth. “Get out of my way, you idiots! Are you trying to get me killed?”

The bodyguards retreated, faces stinging and silent. They knew if Ernest died, the Ramseys of Canraville would certainly come after Andrew—but they would also be executed for failing to protect Ernest.

Having dealt with his incompetent guards, Ernest collapsed to the floor and looked up at Andrew with pleading eyes.