A One Night Stand With My Boss (Camilla) novel Chapter 142

Chapter 142

Hearing the news, Marc furrowed his brows deeply. “I have money. I can compensate the injured! Don’t let my son go to jail!”

The traffic officer gave him a cold glance. “Causing a traffic accident isn’t something you can just pay off.”

Camila had thought it was just a regular car accident, but to her dismay, it turned out that Scott had been driving under the influence. Anger welled up inside her.

“How is the injured party doing?” Marc couldn’t help but ask.

“The victim is still in surgery, and the outlook isn’t good,” the officer said gravely.

Marc fell silent. This situation wouldn’t be easy to resolve. He looked down at the medical report in his hand and suddenly shouted, “No, this can’t be right! How could Scott’s blood type be AB! Both her mother and I are type A!”

Tabitha abruptly looked up at Betty, whose face turned instantly pale.

Her mind was a mess. She knew what this implied. Her palms began to sweat and her body trembled slightly. She knew she had to stay

calm and composed.

I am type B blood.”

Tabitha watched Betty in shock. She knew clearly that Betty was type A, while she and Scott were both type AB.

This meant….

“You are type A. You had a test last year when you had surgery,” Marc said, his gaze becoming sharp as he stared intensely at Betty.

There must be some mistake! This report got to be wrong!” Betty’s voice was agitated, “There’s definitely a mistake in these results.”

“Even Tabitha isn’t your daughter either. I’ve been on birth control the whole time we’ve been together.” Betty forcefully freed herself

from his grasp, her indifferent eyes carrying a hint of scorn.

Hearing this, Marc completely broke down. He felt as if his world had collapsed; his beloved son was not his own. He staggered back a few steps, leaning weakly against the wall.

At the same time, Camila and Connor exchanged shocked looks.

“Camila… Camila… Marc suddenly, like a madman, rushed towards Camila.

Connor immediately stepped in front of Camila, his eyes sharp like blades, warning Marc not to make any rash moves.

“Camila… tell me… what’s your blood type. I need to take you for testing.” Marc’s voice trembled, almost unable to control his emotions. His eyes were filled with anxiety and hope, as if searching for the last bit of hope,