The Cold Surgeon's Contract Bride novel Chapter 94

"Sent," Caspian said smoothly. "If there are any errors, please feel free to point them out, Dr. Hayes."

Curious, I opened the message and, sure enough, found the complete slide deck he had forwarded.

But Dr. Evelyn Yates had mentioned that this was St. Jude's Medical Center's internal data, which their staff wouldn't usually share so easily. Plus, Caspian had only promised me the clinical data yesterday. I had just been half-joking, yet he actually sent the whole thing.

The more I thought about it, the more unbelievable it seemed. I glanced to my side to see Caspian lounging against the seat with his eyes half-closed, looking completely different from his stern, serious demeanor at the seminar.

He had a luminous skin tone, yet his features were remarkably striking, like ink splashed boldly across a pristine white canvas. Once you looked at him, it was hard to look away.

He was undoubtedly the most handsome doctor at St. Jude's.

I silently praised him in my mind before pulling my gaze away, refocusing my attention on the slides I had just received.

Twenty minutes later, Caspian and I arrived at the conference room in Skye General Hospital, where we watched the entire robotic-assisted surgery via the operating room's live feed.

Ferris and Zoey were seated diagonally across from us.

It was a brain tumor surgery.

The procedure was quite complex, but the robot acted like a meticulous assistant, easily navigating the complicated neural pathways and making up for any gaps in the surgeon's anatomical experience. I watched in absolute awe.

Being a neurosurgery, it took quite a while. Before I knew it, an hour and a half had passed.

The clock on the wall read 11:15 AM.

Normally, an intensive session like this wouldn't bother me. But perhaps due to my vomiting earlier, I was struggling to stay focused. My entire body felt drained of energy, leaving me completely weak.

The feeling only intensified. Soon enough, I felt dizzy, my palms were sweating, and my vision of the screen inexplicably began to blur.

Feeling miserable, I lowered my head. Listening to the senior staff engage in patient discussion, I had no choice but to push through the discomfort.

Just then, my phone buzzed on the table. I picked it up and saw a text from Caspian beside me.

"Are you feeling unwell?"

I didn't hide it from him. "I think my blood sugar is low."

"Do you want to go rest for a bit?"

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