Chapter forty-one

The sound of the fifth strike tore through the study, and with it, a piece of my own soul felt like it was being ripped away. I kept my hands pressed so tightly over my mouth that my own teeth bit into my knuckles.I couldn’t look away. Frank had told me to stay hidden with his eyes, but he hadn't told me to close them. If he was going to bleed for me, the very least I could do was bear witness to his sacrifice.By the tenth strike, Frank's white shirt was ruined, torn apart and soaked with blood. Deep red marks covered his back, and blood ran down his skin with every blow. He sucked in uneven breaths through clenched teeth. His arms were shaking violently, his large hands gripping the edge of the desk so hard that the wood groaned under his weight. Yet, he didn't scream. Not once. Every time the cane fell, he swallowed the pain, letting out only a low grunt.Across the room, Elena had turned her face away, weeping softly into a lace handkerchief, but her tears weren't for her son’s

Chapter Forty-two

Frank had finally fallen into a fitful, shallow sleep. His fever was rising, his broad shoulders twitching every few minutes as his body fought the trauma of the twenty lashes. I had used up the last of the ice in his room, trying to keep his temperature down.Leaving him wrapped in clean sheets, I quietly slipped through his bedroom door, clutching the empty silver ice bucket against my chest like a shield.I kept my bare feet silent against the cold stairs, heading toward the kitchen. All I wanted was ice, a glass of water, and a single moment to breathe without the weight of Frank’s agonizing groans crashing down on me.I pushed open the heavy swinging door to the kitchen. The room was dark, illuminated only by the silver moonlight cutting through the arched windows."You walk through these halls as if you belong here." A voice sliced through the darkness. I flinched, nearly dropping the ice bucket. Elena sat at the massive marble island, a half-empty crystal glass of amber liquid

Chapter Forty-three

The smell of Frank's fresh blood on the kitchen floor was a harsh reminder that our victory over Elena had come at a terrible cost. With the help of Marco and Darius, we managed to carry Frank back upstairs. By the time the first light of dawn slipped through the heavy curtains of his bedroom, Elena's sleek black sedan had already disappeared down the gravel driveway, leaving the house entirely ours. Frank drifted in and out of a restless sleep, caught between fever and exhaustion. His skin burned beneath my touch, yet his body shook with violent chills every few minutes. The stitches I had carefully sewn only hours earlier had torn open, leaking blood and clear fluid onto the fresh sheets. “Jane...” His voice was weak, his eyes fluttering beneath heavy lids. He tried to turn onto his side, but the movement pulled at his wound, and a sharp gasp of pain escaped him. "Don't move, Frank. Please, just stay still," I begged, my bare knees dug into the edge of the mattress as I pressed

All Chapters of THE DON'S DOCTOR : Chapter 41 - Chapter 43

Chapter forty-one

Chapter Forty-two

Chapter Forty-three