Switched After Four Days

“I’ll not go to save him. Just give it up!”

Ms. Thompson immediately opened her phone and started livestream, pointing the camera at me.

#The President Mr. Smith Forces His Postpartum Wife to Donate Blood for an Abandoned Baby# The headline immediately drew the attention of many audiences.

Susan was weak and lay against the bed frame. She cried in front of the camera, wailing, “Eason, I almost died from hemorrhaging. I nearly lost my uterus. Why are you forcing me to save a child who’s not related to me?”

While she was crying, she lifted up her pajamas, showing her C-section scar on her lower abdomen.

The screen was suddenly filled with many negative comments. [Is this guy cold-hearted? His wife just gave birth and now she’s forced to donate blood!]

[Look at him freaking out! The baby is definitely his child with some other woman!]

[The Smith family is heartless. Does the life of a mother not matter?]

There was an incoming call from the secretary. “Sir! It’s no good! The company’s website has been hacked. The main page is covered with the tagline, ‘Eason Smith, the Jerk’!

“Three main partners have sent over their termination letters. The stock price plunged 30% in just half a day!”

I didn’t get the chance to respond. The doctor then sent me an urgent message. “Mr. Smith! The baby's oxygen level has dropped to thirty-five, and he is struggling to breathe. You guys must come for a blood donation now! If not, nothing can save him!”

I turned around and looked at Susan. I begged her, saying, “Susan, Lucas is dying! He’s also your flesh and blood! I beg you, please. Can you go and rescue him?”

Susan immediately laughed, showing a cold and evil smile. “Why don’t you beg me? That would be nice.”

She pointed her finger at Ms. Thompson’s phone camera. “You must admit to everyone that the baby is a child of yours with another woman, so it has nothing to do with me and the Smith family.”

She paused, her gaze turning even colder.

“Write a statement saying you will send the baby to an orphanage. You will never acknowledge him for the rest of your life. You're not even allowed to mention his name.

“If you say and write it, I will go and save him now."

“You’re really crazy!” I trembled in fury. “But he is really your son!” When Susan saw that I didn’t agree immediately, she suddenly rushed over.

She swung her fist straight at my face. “What are you waiting for? Tell me quickly! If you are a tad slow, I’ll cripple you!”

Susan’s relatives were closing in on me. They pushed me to be in front of the camera.

Susan stretched her hand to pass me a piece of paper and a pen. “I’ve already written the statement for you. You just need to sign your name.”

I stared at the paper. It said, “The baby has nothing to do with me so I voluntarily sent him to an orphanage for adoption.”

Someone even snatched the pen and jammed it into my hand, urging me, “Stop acting tough! If you don’t sign, you won’t even get to see your son’s corpse!”

Someone pinned my hand down, forcing me to sign. “You’re signing today whether you like it or not!”

Someone kicked my knee hard and cursed in my ear impatiently, “If you keep dragging this out, that baby won’t survive!”

At this moment, my phone rang again.

I hastily picked up the call. The doctor made a final announcement. “Mr. Smith! The baby is almost out of breath. We’re performing CPR… If you truly care about him, come over quickly to save him!”

Hearing that, Susan’s smile deepened. “Eason, there’s no time left. Are you signing or not?”

My hands trembled as I reached for the pen.

Bang! The door was slammed open.

My grandfather’s butler, Sam, burst in with four bodyguards dressed in black.

Sam shouted, “It’s wrong! Everything is wrong!”