Chapter 173: Chapter 173: The Gift of Shares
The doctor quickly arranged an emergency examination for Evelyn Clayton and soon drew a conclusion.
"Miss Clayton is anemic and excessively exhausted. How could you draw her blood? Take a few more milliliters, and her life cannot be preserved."
The girl lying on the bed was quietly resting, her face pale and utterly devoid of color, as if her once vibrant aura had been drained away.
Upon hearing the doctor’s words, the restrained aggression within James Grant erupted again, his eyes brimming with murderous intent.
Nathan Carter, standing at the door, was afraid of him and dared not enter.
"What exactly is Harrison Grant suffering from? Are you still trying to hide it?"
James Grant shot a piercingly cold glance, no longer repressing the murderous intent in his tone.
Nathan Carter’s face revealed panic, unable to answer James Grant’s question.
"Fine."
The sinister person in front of him gave Nathan Carter a cold laugh, devoid of any warmth, even colder than the Soul-Attracting Bell.
James Grant was impatient to negotiate with them; if they didn’t tell him, he would find out himself.
Even if he had to turn the entire city upside down, he would get to the bottom of it.
"Domestic doctors have been consulting for so long with no success. What worthless ones did you hire? Dismiss them all. I will personally invite overseas experts, as my filial duty."
There was increasing malice and fierceness in James Grant’s eyes. The usually carefree and unconcerned he was now exposing his ambition without concealment, like a beast lying in wait for blood.
Nathan Carter, witnessing it again, felt the terrifying intensity of James Grant, unable to make up his mind.
"Let’s still discuss with Director Grant."
"Discuss what?"
An old, deep voice sounded at the door as Harrison Grant, sitting in a wheelchair, was pushed in.
Nathan Carter immediately found a backing and slid over to Harrison Grant’s side, truthfully answering, "Young Grant said he is concerned about your health and wants to invite overseas experts to treat you."
Harrison Grant displayed a benevolent smile, holding a medical report in hand.
"Thank you for your concern, James. I’m fine. I’ve come through all these years well. My condition is well-maintained. This is a new medical report from the doctors. Take a look; I’m not in serious condition."
James Grant’s eyes were icy as he took the report, flipping through the pages with distinctly jointed fingers.
It stated that after Harrison Grant had transplanted Evelyn Clayton’s father’s heart, his condition had been unstable, often experiencing vascular ruptures, insufficient oxygen supply, and major bleeding incidents.
Could it be because of this that Evelyn Clayton had to continually donate blood?
The somber intensity in James Grant’s eyes grew more profound, and his hand, with bulging veins, clenched the medical report tightly.
"Thirsty..."
A faint, weak voice suddenly came from behind, and he heard it sharply.
James Grant dropped the medical report and swiftly walked to the bedside, restraining his emotions, asking in a deep voice, "How are you feeling?"
Evelyn Clayton opened her eyes to see James Grant’s face, and the panic in her heart subsided considerably.
She struggled to purse her parched lips, her throat dry as if burnt by fire, making it difficult to speak.
James Grant took warm water from the bedside and gently lifted her head, tilting the rim of the cup against her pale lips, gradually tipping it upwards.
The water flowed down her throat, considerably soothing.
"Evelyn, are you feeling better now?"
Harrison Grant was pushed over by Nathan Carter, looking kindly at Evelyn Clayton.
She weakly nodded, now feeling exhausted, leaning powerlessly in James Grant’s broad embrace.
"It’s thanks to you that I managed to recover an old life, and it makes me indebted to you for paying such a large price. For such great kindness, I, Harrison Grant, have no way of repaying it. As previously mentioned about the three percent stake offered to you, if you’re not satisfied, how about changing it to five percent?"
Harrison Grant, after all, an astute business elite, expressed endless gratitude, yet his eyes showed no emotional fluctuation.
James Grant mercilessly sneered, his dark pupils full of chilling intent.
"Is a life-saving grace paid back with five percent of the shares? Is your life too cheap, or is the Grant Family’s stock worth nothing?"
Harrison Grant, being confronted, did not show any anger, doubling the offer.
"Ten percent, how’s that?"