Married to a cripple billionaire

The Cost of blood Camille Rowen adjusted her stethoscope around her neck as the odor of antiseptic permeated the air, while her footsteps reverberated softly in the hospital corridor. It was yet another lengthy on-call night, a routine she had become used to. However, this evening was not like the others. The phone in her scrubs pocket vibrated so intensely that it felt like it shook her to the core. "Camille, this is your dad," the voice on the other side sounded tense and hurried. "He's currently in the intensive care unit." Brain injury. We require your presence immediately. The world whirled temporarily. The sterile environment became hazy. "What is it about? "Impossible!" she exclaimed, her voice shaking, as she hurried towards the elevator. Her heart raced as the hospital walls seemed to be narrowing in on her. Her rock was Amos Rowen, the man who had taken care of her following her mother's death. He was tough, unwavering, consistently cautious, especially while working as a truck driver. Accidents sometimes occurred, and the idea of him being fragile and injured in a hospital bed disgusted her. Camille rushed through the ICU's double doors, almost running into a nurse. "Where can he be?" she inquired, her voice breaking. The nurse gestured towards a corner room, prompting Camille to dash inside, her heart racing with anticipation. He was lying quietly on the bed, with bandages and tubes linking to beeping and hissing machines nearby. His complexion was pallid, puffy. "Daddy," she murmured, on the verge of tears. Bending over, she softly took hold of his hand, her fingers shaking as she sensed the chill of his skin. He lay still, with only the slight movement of his chest providing her comfort by indicating he was alive. "The attending physician clarified that he suffered serious injuries," she explained from behind. "His vehicle crashed into a car... both occupants in the other car did not survive." Camille's breathing caught. "Are there any other passengers?" she asked the doctor with wide eyes. The doctor paused before talking once more. "Indeed." They were well-known individuals in the town. Lois Southwick and... "Is Southwick?" Camille interrupted him, feeling her heart sink deeper into a pit of hopelessness. "Similar to... Fred Southwick's spouse?" The doctor grimly nodded. Yes, Mr. Southwick himself is currently in critical condition. He is currently in the coma unit. Camille swayed while holding onto the bed railing for stability. Fred Southwick was a well-known individual that everyone was familiar with. He was a wealthy billionaire who possessed numerous hotels, resorts, and an oil company, respected and feared in equal amounts. And at this moment, her father was in charge of causing the death of his wife and almost taking his own life. Her legs buckled, and she sank into the chair next to her father's bed, feeling a mix of fear and remorse in her mind. What led to this occurrence? The following text should be rephrased while maintaining the original language and word count. After two days had gone by, the police arrived as they had assured. Camille had devoted all her time to staying by her father's side, hoping for a miracle. However, the miraculous event transformed into a horrifying ordeal when they arrived to apprehend him. "I apologize, Ms. Rowen, but your father will be taken into custody once he is well enough to leave the hospital," one of the officers stated, showing no sympathy in his voice. Camille felt dizzy and her legs went soft as she observed the officer talking to the doctor. She gathered her courage, feeling her throat parched. I must find a way to take action. "I'll take whatever you have." "Ma'am," the officer responded with no emotion, "it was a fatal accident." The legal process will be followed. As the true situation started to become clear, she felt a chill in her blood. As each hour went by, Amos neared closer to the possibility of being imprisoned for the rest of his life. Desperation gripped her heart tightly. She couldn't simply watch idly and do nothing. That night, Camille discreetly entered Fred Southwick's hospital room. She had avoided confronting him, but now she had no other option. The atmosphere was heavy with stress as she approached his bed, his large body spread out under clean, white blankets without moving. She recalled the day when Lois was brought to the emergency room in a hurry. Camille was a nurse at the facility and administered CPR until the doctor declared the patient dead. Now, feeling guilty once more, she stood over Lois' grieving husband. She murmured a tremulous apology to the man who was unconscious, her hand lingering near the edge of the bed. She wasn't certain of what she anticipated—maybe solace? Is there an ending? The machines beeped in a rhythmic pattern while his chest moved up and down, yet there was no response, only silence. Camille whispered, "Please, I don't know how to fix this." Out of nowhere, Fred let out a sharp gasp. His eyelids flickered as though trapped in a bad dream. In a weak voice, he whispered "Lois..." Camille stood motionless, her heart pounding in her chest. Was he only...? The tall, impressive woman suddenly burst through the door. She screamed to stay away from him. Camille quickly pulled away, making eye contact with the enraged stare of Madam Alvina Southwick, Fred's mother. "Do you dare to appear in this place?" Alvina spat angrily, her face twisted in anger. "My son is in this condition because of your father." You are the offspring of a killer! "I will...." I am only attempting to—" "You won't be permitted close to him," Alvina snarled, her voice dripping with poison. "If I have a say in the matter, both you and your father will suffer eternally for your actions. Now, leave." Camille understood immediately, she didn't require further explanation. Tears burned in her eyes as she escaped the room. However, just as she was about to go further, a hand tightly grabbed her wrist. "You." She whirled around, gazing with wide eyes at the angry, dark eyes of Fred Southwick—fully awake and aware. He spoke with a hoarse, low voice that was filled with venom. I am aware of your identity, Camille Rowen. She felt her heart skip a beat as he squeezed her tightly. He warned, his lips contorting into an evil grin, that you will suffer consequences for your father's actions. "Remember what I'm telling you." Camille suppressed the feel ing in her throat, realizing her life was no longer under her control.