The Real Heiress Rules the World (Sloane Rivers) novel Chapter 446

Chapter 446 The Doctor’s Bargain

Urdu rubbed his chin and grinned wickedly. “The little doctor can bargain. But…” He slammed his fist on the table. “I want sixty percent! Otherwise none of you leave.”

A cold flash crossed Beth’s eyes as she was about to erupt. Sloane, however, reached into her medical kit and produced a small vial. “Chief, have you been coughing blood at night lately?”

Urdu’s face went pale. “How do you know that?”

“This is a symptom of desert fever.” Sloane shook the vial. “I have an antidote.”

Silence fell over the tent.

“How do I know your medicine works?” Urdu stared at the bottle.

Sloane tossed the vial to him. “Then try it and see.”

Urdu hadn’t expected her to give it up so easily. Suspicion flickered across his face. His second–in–command hissed, “Careful–she could be lying.”

Sloane smiled lightly. “You can have someone else test it. After all, almost everyone out here has contracted this disease.”

Urdu, tormented by the illness, agreed. He ordered his lieutenant to bring forward a man whose symptoms were worse than his.

The man was carried in, hacking and coughing. “Boss–me?” he rasped.

Urdu poured out a pill from the vial and asked Sloane, “How do you take it?”

“One pill a day, swallow it whole. You’ll see results in ten minutes,” Sloane said calmly.

“Take it.” Urdu tossed the pill to the man. He hesitated, then swallowed.

Ten minutes passed in tense silence.

The coughing eased. After ten minutes the man was only coughing occasionally.

Urdu watched the change, barely containing his excitement. “How do you feel?” he asked.

The man touched his throat, eyes wide. “Boss–I feel better. My chest isn’t tight anymore!” He looked at Urdu, pleading, “What is that medicine? Give me another!”

Greed flashed in Urdu’s eyes. He snatched the vial. “This medicine is mine!”

“The medicine’s yours,” Sloane agreed, “but Charlie must come with us.”

Urdu’s expression shifted between anger and calculation. He slammed the table. “Deal! But you must leave the recipe with us.”

Beth scoffed. “Urdu, don’t push your luck.”

Sloane unwrapped a paper from her bag and handed it over. “This is the basic formula–enough to relieve symptoms. A complete cure requires special ingredients that only I can obtain.”

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Urdu took the paper, eyes flicking over it with suspicion. The second–in–command leaned closer and whispered, “Boss, this is nonsense–just keep the girl here…“”

A cruel smile curled Urdu’s mouth. “Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Beth stepped forward in an instant, positioning herself between Sloane and the men, her right hand already on the Desert Eagle at her hip. “Urdu, you dare-”

Sloane gently pressed Beth’s hand down, stepped out from behind her, and met Urdu’s gaze calmly. “I said the formula I gave you only relieves symptoms. To cure it completely, three rare ingredients must be used together. They only grow in my country, and only I can find them.”

Urdu sneered. “You think I’ll believe that?”

“You don’t have to.” Sloane’s voice was steady. “But in a year, your lungs will begin to fibrose. Breathing will feel like being cut by knives. In the final three months, you will cough up blood and die.”