Pride Draws Blood
With no hesitation, she took the sterilized needle and moved to Patriarch De Dominicis’ calf. Her fingers pressed once, locating the precise spot.
The Outer Mound Point.
Fingers trembled as the tip touched skin. A slow press followed, then a quiet slide forward.
A sudden jerk cut through the air - precise, final, not a trace of hesitation anywhere. That move had no questions, just edges.
A sudden crimson stain spread wide on De Dominicis’ lower leg, sharp against his pale robe, like old blood waking after years of silence. Cold stillness dropped over the yard. Words vanished. Each breath now sounded too heavy.
Not a single eye moved elsewhere. All attention fixed on one spot.
Amara Ravenswood did not stop.
Water guided her hands while needle after needle found its place without pause. One motion slipped into the next, steady but firm in its purpose. From the old man’s leg, clotted blood now oozed - slow, heavy, sour with the sll of trapped decay lingering too long beneath skin.
"Towel."
Out of her mouth ca a sound calm but firm, each word pulled tight by deep concentration. Stillness lived in that tone, shaped by quiet certainty.
A flicker crossed Julian D’Aurelius’s face before he moved. Into her waiting palm went a fresh towel, handed over in silence. Not one sound broke the rhythm of their motion - each step tid, certain, like breathing amid fire drills they’d run too many tis. Stillness held between them even while everything spun.
Wiping the blood clots clean, Amara held the towel steady, a faint crease between her brows. Her gaze stayed locked on the patriarch’s leg without shifting even once.
Evan stood frozen.
Sothing slipped away inside him when he stepped into the De Dominicis ho. Not a thought remained.
Impossible.
A weight dropped in his chest. That mont changed everything.
The truth hits - I’m the joke. ? The punchline all along.
What led her to uncover sothing so well concealed? Yet she found it.
If her dical skill reached such a level, spotting it right away would’ve been natural. Waiting served nothing. Shifting course halfway made just as little sense.
Funny how things just sit there, not adding up at all.
This didn’t add up at all. The pieces refused to fit, no matter how hard I tried.
A glance dropped to the watch face, behind him. Its thin hand swept once more around the dial before stilling.
Three minutes.
Up ca his head, face shadowed, jaw set like stone.
"Doctor Evan," he said coldly, each word striking like a gavel, "three minutes are up. Shouldn’t you fulfill your promise?"
Heavy was the weight of those words.
Evan’s face stiffened.
Flinching at the heat crawling under his neck, he felt sha eat through him slow.
Today was supposed to be perfect.
A sudden shift in plan marked his approach - not rely entering as an authority, but aiming to impress. Power showed in each gesture, aid straight at the heart of the De Dominici ho. One bold move ant capturing status, yes - but also turning heads through presence alone. Victory wasn’t just about na or fa; it lived in the glance, the stance, the unspoken claim.
Instead, he stood exposed.
Cornered.
As the Obsidian King, he had never bowed to anyone in his life.
Kneeling? Apologizing?
Absolutely impossible.
But then another thought crept in—sharp, calculating.
Amara Ravenswood will eventually beco my woman.
Bowing to his future wife... that was sothing he could barely, reluctantly accept.
His expression shifted. The tension eased from his shoulders as he forced a casual laugh.
"Haha... I truly didn’t expect Valemont to hide such a genuine expert like Divine Doctor Ravenswood," Evan said smoothly. "Today’s misjudgnt was mine."
He inclined his head slightly, the gesture perfectly asured.
"The Thirteen Shadow Acupuncture Therapy truly lives up to its reputation. In my opinion, it is not inferior to my Traditional Acupuncture."
As he spoke, he extended his hand.
A silver needle floated above his palm, suspended by invisible force, trembling faintly as controlled energy wrapped around it.
The air stirred.
It was a display—pure and intentional.
The De Dominicis household erupted in quiet astonishnt.
Even those who disliked Evan couldn’t deny it.
He had real skill.
Inside Julian’s mind, a familiar wave of sarcasm rose.
[Here we go. Changing the topic already?]
[But Amara really does obsess over dical skills. With this flashy display of Traditional Acupuncture, she’ll probably get curious about him.]
[As expected of you, Obsidian King—always good at wooing won.]
Julian’s lips twitched faintly.
Amara’s expression darkened.
A trace of anger surfaced in her hazel eyes.
Woo her?
She had been listening to Julian’s inner mutterings for long enough now—about her developing feelings, about joining Evan’s so-called harem.
At this mont, her impression of Evan couldn’t have been worse.
dical skill without dical ethics.
Using a patient as a bargaining chip.
Such a man was trash.
And he dared pursue her?
She deliberately widened her eyes and exclaid, her tone sharp with mock admiration.
"So impressive! Then you must keep your word, right?"
She tilted her head slightly. "Weren’t you going to kneel and apologize?"
Julian froze.
"∑(°口°?)"
[What the hell—Amara, this isn’t right.]
[That was his big move! You’re supposed to talk about techniques, exchange insights, bond over dicine!]
Evan’s fury exploded inwardly.
The silver needle hovering above his palm twisted violently, unable to withstand the surge of his emotions, warping with a faint tallic whine.
A woman... dared to humiliate like this?
If it weren’t for her value—her family’s network, her grandfather’s influence—she would already be a corpse.
Just then, Ryan De Dominicis stepped forward, his voice quick and conciliatory.
"Haha, everyone, it was just a joke earlier. Let’s not take it too seriously," he said, forcing a smile. "Both of you are outstanding doctors. You should learn from each other."
"Yes, yes," the middle-aged man added, his tone easing. "It was only a joke. No need to dwell on it."
They had all seen it.
This arrogant young man did have real ability.
Giving him a bit of face now might prove useful later.
Evan took a slow breath. His expression softened, and he smiled again—polished, controlled.
"It was indeed a mont of anger," he said calmly. "I overstepped today."
His gaze shifted back to Amara.
"If Miss Ravenswood doesn’t mind, how about we have dinner tonight? Let make ands properly."
Julian nearly laughed.
[Haha, classic. Truly living up to your reputation, Obsidian King.]
[Lose the bet? Switch tactics. Can’t woo her? Try another angle.]
[You’re like a cunning Teddy dog—soft smile, hard intentions. Fine. I admit defeat.]
"I mind."
Amara’s response was imdiate.
Cold. Clean. Absolute.
She didn’t even look at Evan as she refused.
After listening to Julian’s thoughts for so long, she already knew exactly what kind of man Evan was.
Evan’s smile stiffened. Embarrassnt and anger tangled together in his chest.
And then—
The door opened.
Footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor.
Bianca De Dominicis walked in from outside, her long red hair catching the light, crimson eyes cool and assessing.
The mont she entered, the already tense atmosphere shifted again—quiet, sharp, expectant.
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