The Reign of Zane Gardner

Chapter 8 - Blood Cough

The room fell into stunned silence as Claire, delicate and poised, suddenly doubled over, coughing up blood. The shock was palpable, faces draining of color as all eyes fixed on the alarming scene.

Nora and Morel, seizing the moment, burst through the crowd, their voices raised in a tumultuous blend of fear and accusation. "Look at what you've done!" Nora screamed at Zane, her finger jabbing the air towards him. "You're a monster, Zane! You've harmed Ms. Claire! You should be locked away!"

Morel, his face contorted in fury, joined in, his voice booming across the room. "This is what your arrogance has led to, Zane! You'll pay for this. You'll rot in prison for assaulting Ms. Claire!"

Amidst the chaos, Charles, with a complexion ashen and eyes wide with terror, rushed to his granddaughter's side. His hands trembled as he knelt beside her, his voice quivering with fear. "Claire, my dear, can you hear me?" His eyes darted frantically around the room, seeking help.

The doctors, previously skeptics, now looked upon Zane with open hostility. "This is your doing!" one of them barked, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Your reckless actions have endangered Ms. Claire’s life!"

Zane stood amidst the uproar, his expression one of calm in the storm. His eyes, however, betrayed a flicker of concern for Claire, even as he faced the barrage of accusations.

"I assure you," Zane began, his voice steady but loud enough to cut through the cacophony, "my intentions were to heal, not harm. Please, let me explain—"

But his words were drowned out by the rising clamor of the crowd, their faces a mix of anger, shock, and fear. In the background, Claire lay still, her breathing ragged, the room swirling in a maelstrom of emotions and accusations.

The tension in the room escalated as five imposing men in black coats, Charles' personal security, stormed in. Without a word, they firmly grasped Zane's arms, their grip unyielding.

“You've gone too far this time,” one of the men growled, as they began to drag Zane towards the door. Their faces were set in grim lines, echoing the seriousness of the situation.

In the background, the scene was chaotic. Claire, her elegant demeanor replaced by distress, continued to choke and cough, her body racked with convulsions. The once pristine white cloth her assistant held was now stained with ominous splotches of red. Her assistant's hands shook as she tried to stem the flow of blood, her eyes wide with panic.

Amidst the commotion, Charles stood frozen, his face etched with fear and confusion. His gaze flitted between Claire and Zane, torn between his granddaughter's distress and the unfolding drama.

Nora and Morel, reveling in the turmoil, exchanged triumphant glances.

"This is the end of Zane," Nora hissed with a vindictive smile.

Morel nodded in agreement, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. "He'll never recover from this disgrace," he added.

Just as Zane was about to be hauled out of the room, a miraculous change occurred. Claire's coughing ceased abruptly, and she straightened up, a look of bewilderment crossing her face. She touched her throat, as if surprised by the sudden absence of pain.

“Grandpa, stop!” Claire's voice, clear and steady, cut through the chaos.

Everyone froze, their eyes turning to her in disbelief.

“Don't treat Zane like that,” she continued, her voice firm. She stood up, her posture regal, the earlier signs of distress gone as if they had never been.

The room fell into a stunned silence, the only sound the muffled shuffling of Charles’ men as they hesitated, still holding Zane. Charles turned, his expression a mixture of relief and confusion, his eyes searching Claire's face for answers.

Claire, standing with an air of renewed vitality, reassured everyone. "I'm fine now," she announced, her voice resonating with an unmistakable clarity. "It's like... a weight has been lifted off my chest. It's a miracle."

Charles, with a mixture of hope and disbelief, stepped closer to his granddaughter, scrutinizing her face. "Are you sure you're alright, Claire?" His voice trembled with concern.

"Yes, Grandpa, I'm better than I've been in a long time," Claire responded, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Zane... he really healed me."

The doctors, overhearing this, exchanged skeptical glances. "This is preposterous," one murmured, shaking his head. "There's no scientific basis for such a recovery. It's medically impossible."

Amidst the confusion, Claire turned towards Charles' security team, her tone firm. "Please, let Zane go," she implored. 

The bodyguards, after a hesitant glance at Charles, slowly released their grip on Zane.

The medical team, still in disbelief, crowded around Claire. "We need to examine you, Miss Scott. This is highly irregular," one doctor insisted, his professional curiosity piqued.

Claire complied, and after a few moments of thorough examination using their medical equipment, the doctors stepped back, their faces a mix of astonishment and bewilderment. 

The diagnostic tools confirmed it unmistakably – Claire had recovered.

"How is this possible?" one doctor whispered to another, his voice barely audible over the murmurs of the crowd.

Charles, witnessing the doctors' confirmation, looked at Zane with a newfound respect.

"You... you actually did it," he said, his voice laced with gratitude and awe.

The room, which had been a vortex of accusations and chaos moments ago, now simmered with a sense of wonder. The impossible had happened – Claire was healed.

Nora and Morel were incensed and determined not to let Zane off the hook so easily.

"I don't think this will last for long," Nora said. "I know him, he's worthless. He couldn't have done something like this on his own."