After all the medical staff had left, Celia Torres was furiously throwing things around the hall.
"It's him, it's him again!"
"Would I die if I didn't beg him?"
"Why is it like this? Is it all just some cruel joke?"
"To beg that brat now, they might as well kill me!" Celia's eyes were bloodshot, and she seemed on the brink of madness.
No one from the Torres household's servants and butlers dared to speak out, trembling with fear.
Suddenly, a slender woman with a sensational Hong Kong-style sharply arched brow walked in. She was dressed to impress, striding on her high heels. Rather than a look of sultry temptation, it was the bandage on her nose that stood out.
The woman looked surprised, "Celia, what's happened to you?"
"Why are you so angry all of a sudden?"
Celia glanced at the woman, "My father might not make it. Those quacks suggested someone to me."
"But this person…"
The newcomer was none other than Lisa Torres, a film producer from Hong Kong.
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