Todos os capítulos de The Doctor's Temptation: Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

The rain in Mayfair fell with a heavy, relentless cadence, drumming against the tall arched windows of the Vance estate on Belgrave Square. Inside the private library, the air smelled of aged cedar, beeswax, and centuries of unyielding privilege.Lady Katherine Vance stood by the marble fireplace, an antique crystal glass of sherry resting lightly in her gloved hand. At sixty-eight, she possessed the posture of a monarch and eyes like polished obsidian—cold, calculating, and entirely unaccustomed to defeat.Across the dark mahogany tea table sat Lord Edward Vance, the eldest trustee of the Family Council, alongside Sir Rupert Croft, the dynasty’s chief legal barrister."Vincent has gone too far this time," Katherine said, her voice smooth, low, and laced with absolute authority. She didn't raise her tone; she didn't need to. "A public spectacle in the city. Corporate scandal splashed across every financial paper from London to New York. And worst of all, dragging our family name into

The hum of the Gulfstream’s twin engines was a low, steady vibration against the floorboards as the private jet cut through the night sky at forty thousand feet. Outside the oval windows, there was nothing but endless black ocean stretched out between the coastline they had left behind and the fog of London waiting ahead.Inside the cabin, the lighting was dimmed to a soft amber glow.Mia lay curled sideways on the leather sofa, her head resting on a plush velvet pillow. A heavy cashmere throw was pulled up to her chest, rising and falling with her slow, rhythmic breathing. One hand remained resting protectively over the curve of her stomach, even in her sleep.Across the narrow aisle, Vincent sat in a wide armchair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. The glow of a single overhead reading lamp illuminated his face, casting deep shadows across his sharp jawline. On the folding oak table beside him sat a cold cup of black coffee and three thick stacks of financial audits Marcu

"What do you mean she didn't flinch?" Katherine hissed, her voice vibrating with a lethal, terrifying rage that made the quiet room feel dangerous. She turned slowly, her dark obsidian eyes locked onto Sir Rupert Croft. The high-society barrister stood near the doorway, looking damp, pale, and thoroughly rattled. He held his soaked umbrella in one trembling hand, water dripping from the dark fabric onto the polished floorboards. Across the room, Lord Edward Vance sat stiffly in his wingback armchair, his face drawn tight as he watched the muted television screen in the corner of the library. "She took control of the entire tarmac, Lady Katherine," Rupert stammered, pulling a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket to wipe the cold rain from his forehead. "The reporters were supposed to paint her as an illegitimate, frightened girl caught in an international summons. That was the plan! She was supposed to look panicked, overwhelmed, and small in front of the cameras. Instead... she

The rain had turned into a thick, blinding fog over Mayfair by two o'clock in the morning.Inside the quiet library at Belgrave Square, Lady Katherine stood completely motionless by the tall arched window. Her silhouette was dark and sharp against the faint amber light of the streetlamps glowing through the mist below. On the heavy mahogany desk behind her, a secure satellite tablet lay open. The glowing screen displayed a high-resolution photograph taken outside the Carlton Club less than an hour ago.The photograph showed Lord Edward sitting in a dark leather alcove in the back of the club. His trembling hand was holding a silver fountain pen as he signed his name at the bottom of a single document handed to him by Vincent.Sir Rupert Croft stood near the unlit fireplace, his face pale and cold sweat glistening across his forehead despite the drafty air in the room."Edward traded his vote to protect his son's debt," Katherine said. Her voice was eerily calm—a quiet, freezing stilln

The wet tires of the heavy armored Range Rover hissed against the black pavement of the Strand, coming to a sudden stop right in front of the Royal Courts of Justice.The rain was still falling over London, casting long, blurry reflections of streetlamps against the dark stone pillars of the ancient building. It was five o'clock in the morning. The massive oak doors of the court were locked tight, but two high-ranking court officers stood waiting on the top step under black umbrellas, holding heavy brass keys.Vincent stepped out of the vehicle first, his dark wool coat flying open in the damp wind. His face was set into an unyielding mask of iron, his dark eyes sharp and cold. He turned back toward the door, extending his hand to guide Mia out onto the curb.Mia stepped down beside him, wearing her cream wool coat wrapped tight over her bump. She held the thick leather vault binder close against her chest, her fingers tucked under the flap to protect the yellowed 1952 pages from the