Desmond couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Jethro,” he said with some trace of amusement, “I don’t need money. I don’t need anything. What I did, I did for myself.”"Don’t say that,” he insisted. “I’m happy, Desmond. My dad is alive because of you. You have to be appreciated.”Desmond offered another small smile, but there was something deeper in his gaze. Something unreadable. “I can’t ask for what I really want. You cannot give me what I want."Jethro blinked. He was confused by the response, unsure of what Desmond meant. “What do you mean? What is it that I cannot give you?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.Sylvester, who was standing by the side, listening with silent interest, stiffened instantly. He knew. He knew exactly what Desmond meant. Desmond wanted Anabel back. And that was something Jethro couldn’t give him."No. I can't not let this happen. I had spent too much time and too much effort to have Anabel for myself. I haven't even gott
"No." The specialist interrupted. "He's still at fault. The nurse gave a testimony about you and he still insist because of pride. I have experience special people like you. People that are talented in a particular sickness." The specialist said and turned to the doctor. “This should teach you something. Without Desmond, Sir Orton would have died. If I hadn't given him permission, we would have lost him. And I would have failed.” He said and the doctor stiffened slightly, but nodded in understanding. "You are lucky my father didn't die." Jethro interjected. "Just count yourself lucky. If anything had happened to him, I swear I would have dealt with you. I would have made your life a miserable one." Dr. Maxwell remained silent, knowing there was no defense he could offer. The weight of his decision not to allow Desmond earlier was bearing down on him, and now, all he could do was silently accept the criticism. Jethro has more things to tell the doctor but he needed to talk to
Sylvester stood rigid in the hospital room. His jaw locked tightly as the relief-filled voices of Anabel’s family and others surrounded him. No one saw that coming. It just happened when all hope had gone. Lady Orton was crying with joy, Jethro was exhaling deep breaths of relief, and Anabel... She was just standing there, frozen in shock, looking at the man who had just saved her father’s life. That man was Desmond, his latest rival. Sylvester’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. He wasn’t happy. He couldn’t be. Not because Sir Orton had recovered. No, that wasn’t the problem at all. The problem was who was responsible for it. Desmond. The man who had been completely erased from Anabel’s life. The man she had walked away from. The man she was supposed to never consider again. Yet now, here he was. A hero. The person who had just pulled her father from the brink of death. Sylvester felt something deep and ugly twist in his chest. He was close. So close to sealing his grip on A
A fresh wave of silence swept through the room. Desmond straightened slightly, looking at the man who had just given him the impossible task. Anabel remained silent. She didn’t fight it this time. He was their only hope. Sylvester, for once, had nothing to say. Desmond walked up to Sir Orton’s bedside. The room was thick with anticipation. Every movement, every breath, and every second felt crucial. He bent slightly, studying Sir Orton’s face, assessing his pulse with precision. He wasn’t a doctor, but his experience and instinct could tell him everything he needed to know. His brows furrowed slightly as he pressed his fingers gently against a specific pressure point on the unconscious man's body. He checked his pulse and opened his eyes with his fingers. “I need a new filiform needle.” He requested. The nurse checked the ones she had brought, but the specialist had used all of them. "I'm coming." She said and rushed out to get it. Anabel stood frozen, watching Desmond with despe
He walked near to Sir Orton's bed and started checking his body. Anabel watched as the specialist checked her dad's weak body. Minutes passed as he worked in silence, evaluating. Then, he finally spoke. “I need a filiform needle,” he requested and turned toward the nurse. She nodded quickly, rushing to retrieve it. Anabel barely blinked. She was watching every movement like her father’s life depended on it. And it did. Her father's life depends on whatever they were doing at that very moment. After a couple of minutes, the nurse returned with three packs of filiform needles and gave them to the doctor. Without hesitation, the specialist began to perform acupuncture on Sir Orton. The room was silent as the specialist struggled to save Sir Orton's life. And then...He stopped. The tension in his shoulders told them everything before he even spoke. They could tell he didn't succeed. He shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable at first. Then, he inhaled deeply and said the
Jethro stepped forward and looked at the doctor right in the eyes. "We don't need to continue fighting over this. Do the needful by allowing him. I trust the nurse. Desmond will not hurt my dad when he knows there will be consequences."“Don't say never. You have to know how you trust people. If something happens to Sir Orton under his care, guess who takes the blame? Me and the hospital. For this, I will not let that happen.” The doctor said, and the frustrated nurse tried to speak up again. “Doctor—” But the doctor quickly stopped her. "Will you keep quiet? Enough of this nonsense. I will not let an unlicensed man experiment on Sir Orton. We have protocols.”The nurse flinched slightly and went back to her shell. Then Dr. Maxwell leveled his gaze on Desmond with an unreadable expression. “Listen, young man. I don’t care what you have done before. A specialist is on his way, and that’s who will be treating Sir Orton. Not you.” Desmond exhaled quietly. He doesn't want to argue with t
Jethro was confused about who they were talking about and how the person was related to what was happening. His father was dying, and they were busy talking about an irrelevant person. “And what exactly does this so-called Vanessa have to do with the situation at hand?” He asked. His sharp gaze was fixed on Sylvester. “Why is her name even coming up right now when we are talking about my father’s life?” "I didn't start the topic. He started it." He said, pointing at Desmond. "Why did you go on to explain when you know it's not necessary at this moment? Because while you are busy throwing accusations, you haven’t once provided a single solution. You have done nothing but stand there and talk against Desmond. So tell me, Sylvester, what have you done today to actually save my father?” Sylvester opened his mouth, about to respond, but Jethro didn’t let him. He turned to Desmond instead, exhaling sharply before making his decision. “Desmond, at this point, I don't care about what
"This is what I can do. I can help him recover. Yes, I'm not a doctor, but I can handle this type of case. Let's forget about what we had before. Let's forget the past. Pretend that you never knew who I am, and let me help the dying man." "I wonder why you are begging to help my father. You are supposed to leave, but it's clear you have some dirty plans." "Don't say that. I'm begging because it will hurt me most if I don't save your father when I can. My conscience will hurt me till I die. You have to understand my fear." Desmond said, and Sylvester laughed. "I will advise you to stop begging and leave. I had thought a reasonable person was coming, not knowing it was you. You want them to allow you to treat her father? Sylvester scoffed, stepping forward with a smirk. He turned to Anabel’s mother and Jethro, gesturing toward Desmond. “So what, should we just let him kill him?” Anabel snapped her gaze to Sylvester and glared fiercely. “Shut up! Don't say that about my father!”
Anabel didn't see that coming. She wasn't expecting him. Yes, the nurse said Desmond, but why would it be the Desmond she knew?" The Desmond she had tried so hard to forget?There he stood, tall and composed, his dark eyes scanning the room with quiet intensity. He still carried that commanding presence, that confidence that seemed so effortless. Her fingers curled into fists. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Her mind reeled, struggling to make sense of this cruel coincidence. Then, suddenly, she noticed something. Desmond had frozen. For the first time since he entered the room, his steady composure was interrupted. He was staring at her and her mom, even at Jethro and Sylvester. It was clear he wasn't expecting to meet all of them in the same room. He hadn’t seen this coming either. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.She could see it in him. The tension. The uncertainty. He hadn't expected to see all of them. Not there. Not like that. Ana