Betrayed by his girlfriend, framed for a crime he didn’t commit, and stripped of his career, Dr. Joaquin Villareal hits rock bottom—until a mysterious family heirloom unlocks hidden powers within him. With newfound skills and enhanced medical abilities, Joaquin fights to rebuild his life while uncovering a web of corruption threatening the hospital he once called home.
As rivals conspire to destroy him, Joaquin gains unlikely allies, but as secrets from his family’s past resurface, Joaquin must confront not only his enemies but also the legacy he’s inherited. Can he clear his name, expose the truth, and reclaim his place as a healer for those in need?
One betrayal sparked his fall. One chance will define his rise.
Chapter 1
Joaquin pushed open the door to his apartment as the exhaustion clung to him like a second skin.
His day at Villareal Medical Hospital had been giong, and all he wanted was a quiet evening with Mikyla. But before he could call out her name, faint voices filtered through the hallway—coming from the bedroom.
He froze. The voices were muffled but unmistakable.
A man and a woman, their tone teasing, urgent, and far too familiar. His chest tightened as realization dawned. Heart pounding, he moved closer, the words becoming clearer.
“So, you think he’ll figure it out?” the man chuckled.
“Joaquin?” Mikyla’s voice replied with a scoff. “He’s clueless. The guy’s too naive to suspect anything.”
A cold chill swept through Joaquin’s body.
‘What?!’
“And the position?” the man asked.
“There’s only one permanent slot,” Mikyla said smoothly. “Serena might back him, but your dad has the final say, right? That fool doesn’t stand a chance.”
‘How can she do this to me?!’
The man was Andrew Alvarez, a doctor in the surgery department, infamous for his arrogance and for using his father’s position as vice dean to get ahead. Mikyla, the woman Joaquin had trusted, had chosen him.
“Don’t forget, I slept with you to make sure I got my spot,” Mikyla added with a laugh that felt like knives slicing through Joaquin’s chest.
The betrayal was suffocating, but it wasn’t over.
“Does he even know who his father is?” Andrew sneered. “Imagine being such a bastard that even your dad didn’t stick around.”
Joaquin staggered back as though the words had physically struck him.
He had always carried the weight of not knowing his father, but hearing it weaponized against him by these two was unbearable.
‘I can’t believe this!’
Anger boiled over, drowning out the pain. Without thinking, Joaquin kicked the bedroom door open.
Mikyla and Andrew's shocked faces greeted him, both frozen in a moment of guilt and panic.
Mikyla wrapped herself in a towel, her lips parting as though to explain. Andrew, shirtless and smug, leaned against the counter with a grin that only fueled Joaquin’s fury.
“Joaquin, wait—” Mikyla started, but Joaquin cut her off, his voice cold and steady despite the storm within him.
“Don’t bother! I see now how blind I’ve been. I was never good enough for you!”
Mikyla’s expression hardened, her guilt quickly morphing into disdain.
She removes the gold ring Joaquin had gifted her, an heirloom that had once belonged to his mother—a gesture of love and commitment.
“This?” she scoffed, tossing it at his feet. “You thought this was romantic? How pathetic! It’s not even worth anything! I’m sure it’s fake!”
Joaquin clenched his fists, the sting of her words driving deeper than he wanted to admit.
“That’s our engagement ring, Mikyla!”
“It’s over, Joaquin!” she continued, her tone sharp and dismissive.
“Over?” Andrew interjected with a laugh. “It never started. Honestly, Joaquin, you should thank me. At least now you know what a joke you are.”
The taunt was too much.
“Shut up!”
Joaquin lunged at Andrew with a roar, swinging with every ounce of his pent-up rage. But Andrew was bigger, stronger, and ready. He caught Joaquin’s fist mid-air, twisting it painfully.
“That’s it?!” Andrew jeered. “This is the best you’ve got?!”
Before Joaquin could retaliate, a sharp jab to his stomach sent him sprawling to the floor.
The world spun, but Andrew wasn’t done. He grabbed Joaquin’s hand, pinning it against the cold tiles, and stomped hard. A sickening crack echoed in the small space.
Joaquin screamed, pain radiating up his arm as two of his fingers gave way.
“Worthless fool!” Andrew spat, kicking him again for good measure. “You’ll never be more than a failure! Just give up already!”
The edges of Joaquin’s vision blurred as the pain overwhelmed him.
Blood from his injuries seeped onto the floor, pooling around the ring. The metal gleamed faintly, almost as if reacting to the crimson liquid.
Joaquin’s consciousness began slipping away, and his gaze lingered on the ring. Something was happening to it—something he couldn’t explain.
A strange, almost imperceptible hum filled the air, and the instrument seemed to pulse with energy.
Then, everything went black.
Chapter 2: Awakening
Darkness enveloped Joaquin, but the silence was broken by a resonant, ancient voice echoing in his mind.
“Descendant,” it said, calm yet commanding.
“I am the ancestor of your family, and I have chosen you to inherit my legacy. The abilities I have mastered—medical expertise, martial arts, and more—are now yours. But heed my warning: use these gifts to uphold justice. Stray from the righteous path, and calamity will befall you.”
Joaquin tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. He could only listen as the voice continued.
“The gold ring you carry is my vessel. It holds the essence of my power. From now on, it is bound to your soul.”
Suddenly, the ring appeared in his vision, glowing with an intense golden light. It transformed into the shape of a phoenix, its wings spreading wide before soaring toward him.
Joaquin gasped as it pierced his chest, a burst of warmth flooding his body.
The voice faded, leaving only silence.
When Joaquin opened his eyes, he was on the cold bathroom floor, but something was different. He sat up, flexing his fingers, which had been shattered moments ago.
“What happened?”
They were healed, the pain gone as if it had never existed. His skin looked healthier, and he felt an unfamiliar surge of strength coursing through him.
He staggered to his feet, his mind racing.
“Was it all real?”
But as he thought, flashes of new knowledge filled his head—medical techniques he’d never learned, martial arts stances he’d never practiced, and a clarity of thought that felt almost superhuman.
The sound of his phone buzzing snapped him back to reality. He pulled it from his pocket, seeing Serena’s name on the screen.
“Get back to the hospital. Now,” she said coldly before ending the call without waiting for a response.
Joaquin sighed.
Serena Del Mar, the head of surgery, was known for her unyielding demeanor and high standards. She had earned the nickname “Ice Queen” among the staff, and even Joaquin, who admired her, knew she was difficult to please.
Still, her sudden demand unsettled him. Something wasn’t right.
Joaquin walked through the corridors, he noticed the disapproving stares from nurses and colleagues. They whispered as he passed, their disdain evident.
His stomach churned. He had no idea what he had done to deserve this treatment, but the looks cut deep.
When he arrived at Serena’s office, she didn’t waste time.
“Sit,” she ordered, her voice sharp as ice.
Joaquin obeyed, feeling the weight of her gaze.
“Do you know why you’re here?” she asked.
“No,” Joaquin replied, his voice steady despite the unease growing in his chest.
Serena placed a folder on her desk and slid it toward him. “These are medical records,” she said. “They match your word for word, yet Dr. Alvarez claims they’re his. And Dr. Brown has backed his testimony.”
The accusation hit Joaquin like a blow. “That’s impossible!” he said quickly. “I wrote those records myself. Mikyla can confirm it!”
Serena’s eyes narrowed. “She already has. But not in your favor.”
Joaquin’s breath caught. Mikyla had betrayed him again, this time to protect Andrew.
“How can she do this to me?!” he whispered.
“Effective immediately,” Serena continued, her tone unyielding, “you are demoted to the role of an orderly. You are forbidden from treating patients until this matter is resolved.”
The words hung in the air, suffocating him. “But I didn’t—”
“I’ve made my decision,” Serena cut him off. “This hospital has no room for misconduct, intentional or otherwise.”
Her coldness left no room for argument. Joaquin stood, his fists clenched and left without another word.
As he walked through the corridors, anger boiled beneath his calm exterior, causing newfound strength to ripple through him.
Andrew and Mikyla had framed him, taking everything he had worked for.
“I’ll make you both pay!” he muttered, his voice low but filled with resolve.
Chapter 3: Breaking Point
As Joaquin stepped out of Serena’s office, the weight of his humiliation pressed on his chest. He clenched his fists, his mind replaying the scene.
Andrew’s smug face, Mikyla’s betrayal, and Serena’s icy judgment all swirled in his thoughts.
They had stripped him of everything—his position, his dignity, and even his hope.
His steps quickened as he made his way to the elevator, needing space to think. But as the elevator doors opened, fate had other plans.
Standing inside were Andrew and Mikyla, their conversation halting as they caught sight of him.
“Oh, look who it is,” Andrew sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. “The hospital’s newest orderly. How does it feel, Joaquin, to be demoted to cleaning up after us?”
Mikyla smirked, her arms folded, her disdain was evident.
“Maybe it suits him. He’s always been good at groveling.”
Joaquin said nothing, stepping into the elevator and standing rigidly in the corner.
“Quiet today, aren’t we?” Andrew leaned closer, his voice low but sharp. “What’s wrong, Joaquin? Too embarrassed to admit you’ve been thrown to the bottom? Or are you sulking because Serena didn’t protect her favorite pet?”
Joaquin’s jaw tightened, but he refused to respond.
Andrew chuckled, clearly enjoying the lack of resistance.
“What’s the deal with you two anyway? Did she demote you because you couldn’t keep up with her demands? Or was it something... more personal?”
He raised an eyebrow suggestively.
The insinuation made Joaquin’s blood boil, but he kept his gaze fixed on the elevator doors, willing himself to stay calm.
He knew the security cameras were watching, and any outburst would only worsen his situation.
“You know,” Andrew continued, his tone growing more vulgar, “Mikyla told me all about how naive you are. She said you actually thought she cared about you. Isn’t that right, darling?”
Mikyla laughed, leaning into Andrew.
“Poor Joaquin. He always thought he was so special. But really, he was just... convenient.”
Joaquin didn’t respond.
Each word cut deeper than the last, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him break.
When the elevator doors finally opened into the bustling hospital lobby, Joaquin stepped out.
He didn’t waste his time with those assholes.
But Andrew wasn’t finished.
“Why are you in such a hurry?” Andrew called after him, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “Afraid someone might ask about the plagiarism? Or maybe about the attack you tried to cover up?”
The words hung in the air, drawing the attention of patients and staff alike.
Conversations halted, and all eyes turned to Joaquin.
“Plagiarism? What’s he talking about?” one patient whispered.
“I heard he assaulted a colleague,” another said.
Joaquin’s heart sank as the murmurs grew louder, the crowd feeding on Andrew’s lies.
“That’s right.”
Andrew declared, his voice full of righteous indignation.
“This man is nothing but a fraud. He steals others’ work, attacks his colleagues, and pretends to be a victim. It’s disgusting.”
The crowd shifted, their disapproval palpable.
Some patients began muttering angrily, their glares piercing Joaquin like daggers.
One older man stepped forward, his face twisted in anger.
“How can someone like you call yourself a doctor? You should be ashamed!”
Joaquin opened his mouth to defend himself, but no words came. He felt trapped, the walls closing in as the weight of their judgment crushed him.
Andrew, sensing victory, stepped closer, his smirk widening.
“What’s the matter, Joaquin? Nothing to say? Or are you finally realizing your place?”
Joaquin straightened his posture, his expression calm but deadly serious.
“Andrew,” he said, his voice steady but loud enough for everyone to hear, “don’t you fear the consequences of twisting the truth like this? Don’t you fear God’s punishment for your lies?”
God’s punishment?”
Andrew laughed sharply, his voice dripping with contempt.
“You’re just a pathetic excuse for a man!”
A sharp cry erupted from Mikyla.
“Andrew!”
Everyone turned to see Andrew clutching his head, his face contorted in pain.
He stumbled backward, collapsing to the floor as blood trickled from his temple.
The crowd gasped, stepping back in shock. Mikyla dropped to her knees beside Andrew, her hands trembling.
“What... what happened?” she stammered, her voice panicked.
“Like I said, God’s punishment,”
Joaquin smiled easily.
Chapter 4: A Chain of Consequences
“Someone call a doctor!” a nurse finally shouted, snapping everyone into action.
Joaquin stood at the edge of the chaos, his face impassive but his heart thrumming with satisfaction.
He couldn’t explain what had just happened, but deep down, he felt the power within him stirring.
The chandelier had fallen perfectly, striking Andrew just as planned.
It wasn’t a fatal blow—he had made sure of that.
But it was enough to knock the arrogance out of him, if only for a moment.
Andrew clutched his bleeding head, his cries of pain reverberating through the lobby.
Mikyla knelt beside him, her hands fluttering uselessly as she tried to stem the blood with a piece of fabric torn from her coat.
“This... this is your doing!”
Andrew spat, glaring up at Joaquin, his voice trembling with both rage and pain.
Joaquin tilted his head, his expression unreadable.
“Me? I didn’t touch you. Maybe it’s divine retribution. Isn’t that what I warned you about?”
“You liar!”
Andrew shouted, his words faltering as another wave of pain overtook him.
A nurse hurried forward with supplies, but her hands shook so badly that she dropped the glass bottle of alcohol she was carrying.
It shattered on the floor, and some of the liquid splashed onto Andrew’s wounds.
His scream was instant, raw, and guttural, silencing everyone in the lobby.
“Watch what you’re doing!” Mikyla snapped at the nurse, her tone sharp as a knife.
“I-I’m sorry!” the nurse stammered, her face pale with fear.
Andrew attempted to stand, leaning heavily on Mikyla as she tried to guide him toward the elevator.
But as the doors slid open, they slammed shut just as quickly, nearly trapping Andrew’s hand in the process.
“What the hell is going on?” Mikyla shouted, her voice rising in panic.
Before anyone could answer, the lights flickered, and the entire hospital was plunged into darkness.
Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd as the emergency lights slowly kicked in, casting an eerie glow over the scene.
“Great,” Andrew groaned, his voice laced with frustration. “Now the damn power’s out.”
Joaquin suppressed a smirk, his lips twitching as he turned away.
The chaos was poetic, a carefully crafted sequence of events that he had set into motion with his newfound abilities.
Each misfortune wasn’t an accident; it was calculated payback for Andrew.
Joaquin walked away from the hospital, and the tension in his chest began to ease.
He felt a strange sense of liberation, as though shedding the weight of years of humiliation in a single day.
The night air was crisp as Joaquin made his way home, the distant hum of the city blending with the rustle of leaves.
He passed by a lake, its surface reflecting the moonlight like shattered glass.
A sudden splash shattered the stillness, drawing his attention. His eyes darted to the water, where a small figure flailed helplessly.
A child!
Without hesitation, Joaquin dropped his bag and sprinted toward the lake.
He dove into the icy water, the chill biting into his skin as he swam toward the boy.
The child’s movements were frantic, his head bobbing in and out of the water.
“I’ve got you!”
Joaquin murmured as he reached the boy, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him to shore.
The boy coughed and sputtered, his small body trembling as Joaquin gently laid him on the grass.
Joaquin tilted the boy’s head, pressing on his chest to expel the water.
“Come on, kid,” Joaquin muttered under his breath. “Breathe.”
After a tense moment, the boy gasped, his eyes fluttering open.
A small crowd had gathered, their murmurs a mix of concern and relief.
“Is he okay?” someone asked.
“He’s breathing,” Joaquin replied, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.
A man pushed through the crowd, his eyes wide with worry.
He was older, his hair silver but his posture commanding.
He dropped to his knees beside the boy, his hands trembling as he checked him over.
“Grandfather,” the boy whispered weakly, his voice hoarse.
“Thank you,” the elderly man said, his gaze lifting to meet Joaquin’s. “You saved my grandson’s life. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” Joaquin said, brushing off the gratitude. “Just make sure he’s okay.”
The man’s expression softened into a smile, but there was something sharp behind his eyes, a glimmer of calculation.
“You’re modest. But such bravery deserves recognition. I insist on rewarding you. Fifty thousand bucks.”
The offer caught Joaquin off guard, but he shook his head.
“That won’t be necessary. I didn’t do it for money.”
The man studied him for a moment, his gaze lingering.
“At least let me know your name.”
“Just call me Joaquin,” he replied, standing up and brushing the dirt from his clothes.
But for a second, Joaquin stared at the man.
He immediately noticed his hard breathing.
“Are you okay?”
“Why?”
Joaquin was silent, something was different from the old man.
“Nothing.”
As the boy was taken away, Joaquin lingered for a moment, watching the crowd disperse. Something about the elderly man unsettled him, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
“Wait,” the man called out, stopping Joaquin in his tracks. “Are you certain there’s nothing I can do for you?”
Joaquin hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Your grandson will be fine. That’s all that matters. But I think you should see a doctor.”
With that, he turned and walked away, the man’s gaze heavy on his back.
Hidden in the shadows, the elderly man’s demeanor shifted. The warm, grateful expression melted away, replaced by something colder, more calculating.
“Who is he?” the man murmured, his voice low but firm.
A middle-aged man stepped forward from the shadows, his stance rigid. “Why?”
“I have already talked with a lot of doctors… even the famous one. But no one, not a single one of them managed to find out what desease I have. And this young man, he can see it in one glance.”
“Do you want me to find out?”
“Yes,” the elderly man said, his tone brooking no argument. “Something about him... He’s no ordinary man. I want to know everything about him—where he came from, what he’s capable of, and why he refused the money.”
The middle-aged man nodded. “Understood. I’ll have a report by morning.”
Chapter 5: A Silent Vow
When Joaquin returned home, the familiar scent of a home-cooked meal greeted him.
His elder sister stood by the stove, humming softly as she ladled soup into bowls.
For a moment, Joaquin felt a pang of guilt.
She worked so hard to keep everything together, yet here he was, weighed down by betrayals and battles he hadn’t even begun to share.
“You’re just in time,” she said, her voice warm. “Dinner’s ready!”
At the dinner table, Joaquin forced himself to act normal.
He focused on eating, avoiding eye contact with his sister.
“Is something bothering you?” she asked, her tone gentle but probing.
Joaquin hesitated. “No, just tired from work.”
She seemed unconvinced but didn’t press further.
Instead, she brought up a topic that made Joaquin’s chest tighten.
“How’s Mikyla? She hadn’t come to our place for a while.”
Joaquin’s grip on his chopsticks tightened, but he managed to keep his voice steady.
“She’s been busy with work.”
His sister’s expression softened. “That’s understandable. I was thinking—maybe we should meet her parents soon to discuss the wedding.”
Joaquin froze.
The idea of pretending everything was fine with Mikyla, especially after her betrayal, made his stomach churn.
But he couldn’t bear to disappoint his sister, not when she looked so hopeful.
“Sure,” he said, the word feeling like sandpaper on his tongue.
After dinner, Joaquin retreated to his room, unable to shake the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.
The memory of Andrew’s taunts and Mikyla’s betrayal replayed in his mind like a broken record. He swore silently to himself: One day, she’ll regret it. She’ll see what she threw away.
Joaquin couldn’t sleep that night. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the floor, his mind turning to the legacy he had inherited.
The voice of his ancestor echoed faintly in his memory, urging him to hone the skills passed down through generations.
He took a deep breath, he focused inward, tapping into the reservoir of knowledge he had unlocked.
Techniques in natural medicine, Western medical practices, and martial arts began to surface in his mind.
It felt like unlocking doors he hadn’t even known existed. Hours passed as he practiced simple movements and mental exercises, each one sharpening his clarity and control.
The next morning, Joaquin woke with a newfound sense of energy. His body felt lighter, his mind clearer.
He was ready to face the hospital, even if it meant enduring the disdain of his colleagues.
Joaquin quickly realized his new role wasn’t going to be easy as he reported to the caregiving station.
Whispers floated around him, snide remarks about his demotion and the rumors spread by Andrew.
He tried to ignore them and focused on his tasks instead.
“Joaquin,” the head nurse called out, her tone was brisk. “We’ve got a situation in Room A01. The patient has gone through four caregivers in less than a week. You’re up next.”
Joaquin frowned. “What’s the issue?”
“Difficult temperament,” she replied with a shrug. “Let’s see if you can handle it.”
Taking a deep breath, Joaquin headed to Room A01. As he approached, he could hear the muffled sound of a TV playing in the background. When he stepped inside, he stopped short.
The patient wasn’t what he expected.
A woman—no older than her late twenties—sat on the bed, her posture relaxed but commanding. Her long legs were crossed, accentuating her confident demeanor. Her skin was flawless, glowing with an almost ethereal quality.
She wore a silk robe that clung to her figure, and her sharp eyes locked onto Joaquin the moment he entered.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice cool but edged with curiosity.
“I’m Joaquin,” he said, holding up his caregiver ID. “I’ll be taking care of you.”
She leaned forward, examining his ID with a raised brow. “Taking care of me? That’s ambitious.”
Joaquin shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Her confidence was disarming, and there was a sharpness to her tone that hinted she wasn’t easily impressed.
As he prepared to introduce himself further, her lips curled into a faint smirk. “You were staring at me just now,” she said, her voice teasing.
Joaquin felt his face heat up. “I wasn’t—”
“Yes, you were,” she interrupted, her smirk widening. “What caught your eye? My legs? My skin? Or something else?”
Her boldness caught him off guard, and he struggled to find the right words. “I—uh, I didn’t mean to stare. I was just...”
“Looking,” she finished for him, tilting her head. “Well, what did you think?”
Joaquin blinked, unsure how to respond.
Her provocative tone was laced with flirtation, but there was also an edge of amusement as if she enjoyed watching him squirm.
He cleared his throat, deciding to steer the conversation back to professionalism. “I’m here to ensure you’re comfortable and to assist with your recovery. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”
The woman chuckled softly, leaning back against the pillows. “You’re interesting, Joaquin. Most caregivers either quit or try to boss me around. But you... you’re different.”
Joaquin wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a warning, but he decided to remain cautious. “I’m here to do my job.”
“Good,” she said, her tone playful but firm. “Then let’s see if you can last longer than the others.”
Chapter 6: A Scar That Won’t Heal
Joaquin’s breath caught in his chest as the woman leaned forward, her robe shifting just enough to make him glance away.
Her confidence radiated like a challenge, and for a fleeting second, he felt the urge to match her energy. But no—he reminded himself—this was his job.
“I’m here to check the wound,” he said, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Nothing else.”
Her eyes narrowed, skepticism clear in her gaze. “Sure you are,” she said, leaning back with a smirk. “Go on then, but keep your hands professional, Joaquin.”
Ignoring her sarcasm, he approached the bed, kneeling to inspect the injury on her leg.
The stitches were tight, the wound deep. Even though it was healing, it was clear the damage had been severe.
“What happened?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.
“Car accident,” she replied flatly. “Driver wasn’t paying attention. Surgery’s scheduled to minimize the scarring, but...” Her voice trailed off, her expression unreadable.
Joaquin hesitated, unsure how to respond. He felt an odd mix of admiration and pity.
The wound didn’t detract from her beauty, but he could see how it weighed on her. Someone so striking shouldn’t have to bear such a mark of pain.
Before he could say more, the door swung open, and a tall, no-nonsense figure strode in—Carlo, the attending doctor.
His gaze swept over the room, landing on the woman with a brusque authority.
“Ms. Andrea,” Carlo said, not bothering with pleasantries. “Let’s cut to the chase. The scar’s not going anywhere. Surgery might help reduce it, but there’s no way to erase it. You’ll need to accept that.”
The words landed like a slap. Andrea’s composed expression faltered, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“No medical solution?” she repeated, her voice sharp with disbelief.
“None,” Carlo replied, unfazed. “We can only do so much. This isn’t a beauty clinic.”
Joaquin watched the exchange, feeling a pang of frustration on her behalf. While Carlo’s words were technically true, his blunt delivery felt unnecessarily cEmilio.
As the tension in the room thickened, Joaquin spoke up, his voice measured.
“There are natural healing methods that could help. They might not erase the scar completely, but they can improve the appearance over time.”
Both Carlo and Andrea turned to him, their reactions starkly different. Andrea looked intrigued, her brows lifting slightly, while Carlo scoffed audibly.
“Natural healing?” Carlo sneered. “What are you, a shaman? Don’t fill her head with nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense,” Joaquin said. “I’ve studied these methods. They focus on improving circulation and supporting the skin’s regeneration process.”
Carlo waved him off. “Enough. You’re here as a caregiver, not a consultant. Leave the medical advice to professionals.”
“Why? Are you afraid that I’m right?”
Joaquin smirked.
“You know nothing about being a doctor! Don’t meddle to things that you’re not sure about!”
“I’m not. I’m just giving my suggestion.”
“And you’re not here to give your opinions. Remember your place, Joaquin!”
Joaquin opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself.
Getting into a debate with Carlo wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Andrea.
Bowing his head slightly, he turned to leave.
“Wait,” Andrea said suddenly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
Joaquin paused, glancing back over his shoulder. She was looking directly at him now, her sharp gaze softer, almost thoughtful.
“What kind of natural methods are you talking about?” she asked again.
“It’s nothing, Ms. Andrea! Don’t listen to him!”
Andrea glared at Carlo and he immediately looked away.
Joaquin hesitated, aware that Carlo was still in the room and he doesn’t want a new trouble again.
But seeing Andrea’s desperation, he decided to help.
“They’re based on traditional medicine,” he said carefully. “Topical treatments, massages to promote healing.”
Andrea tilted her head, considering his words. “And you know how to do this?”
“I do,” Joaquin said confidently.
“Andrea, don’t listen—”
Andrea nodded. “Then I want to try it.”
“That’s absurd!” Carlo snapped. “You’re wasting time on unproven methods! Stick to the treatment plan we’ve already discussed!”
“Your treatment plan doesn’t seem very promising,” Andrea shot back, her tone icy. “If Joaquin has an alternative, I’ll hear it.”
Chapter 7: The Unbelievable Truth
The room buzzed with tension as Joaquin stood at the foot of the hospital bed, Joaquin was preparing his tools for the treatment.
The air was thick with skepticism, and Carlo made no effort to hide his disdain.
“This is ridiculous!” Carlo sneered, crossing his arms.
“You’re feeding her false hope! There’s no way your little water-and-herbs trick will work!”
Andrea leaned back against the pillows, her eyes fixed on Joaquin.
“I’ve already told you, Doctor,” she said with a cool smile, “I’ll decide what’s worth trying. If Joaquin says he can help, I’ll let him.”
An intern beside Carlo snorted.
“A caregiver acting like a doctor? What a joke!”
Joaquin glanced at them briefly, unfazed.
“You’re welcome to stay and watch. Maybe you’ll learn something.”
The boldness of his retort made the interns gape, and even Carlo’s eyebrows twitched in irritation.
“Fine,” Carlo said, his tone laced with mockery. “Let’s see this miracle of yours.”
Joaquin took a deep breath, steadying himself.
He dipped his fingers into the bowl of water he had prepared earlier.
The potion shimmered faintly, though no one seemed to notice except Andrea, who raised an eyebrow.
“What’s in that?” she asked.
“Natural extracts,” Joaquin replied simply. “Years of refinement passed down in my family.”
Carlo rolled his eyes.
“Spare us the sales pitch and get on with it.”
Ignoring him, Joaquin began to gently apply the potion to Andrea’s scar.
His movements were precise, almost rhythmic, as though he were following a ritual.
The room fell silent, the onlookers too intrigued to interrupt.
After a few minutes, Andrea frowned, then gasped softly.
“It feels... warm. Tingling, even.”
“It’s working,” Joaquin said quietly, his focus unwavering.
“Working?” one of the interns scoffed. “You’ve barely done anything. Stop pretending this is some kind of magic.”
But before anyone could respond, Andrea sat up abruptly, her eyes wide.
“Wait! Look!”
All heads turned to her leg, and the room collectively froze.
The scar—the deep, angry gash that had marred her perfect skin—was fading.
It was faint at first, but with each passing second, it became more pronounced.
The redness subsided, the raised tissue smoothed out, and soon, all that remained was the faintest trace of a mark.
The room erupted.
“No way!” one intern exclaimed, stumbling back.
“This can’t be real!” another cried.
Andrea's wound healed almost as if by magic.
Within seconds, the scar that had marred her calf disappeared, replaced by flawless, porcelain-smooth skin.
The interns stared, their mouths agape, while Carlo, who had spent the past few minutes mocking Joaquin, stood frozen in disbelief.
“This is impossible!” Carlo muttered, leaning closer to inspect Andrea’s leg.
“How did you do it?” he finally asked, his voice sharp with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
Joaquin remained calm, his expression unreadable.
“Natural therapy,” he said simply.
Carlo’s brows furrowed.
“Natural therapy?” he repeated, his tone skeptical. “Don’t play games with me, Joaquin. This is no ordinary treatment!”
“I don’t need to explain myself,” Joaquin replied evenly.
“The results are clear, aren’t they?”
Carlo’s face darkened. “If you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll report you for being a fraud! The hospital won’t tolerate quackery!”
Joaquin met his gaze, unwavering. “Go ahead and report me, Carlo. But the results speak for themselves. I’m not here to debate; I’m here to help.”
Andrea, now fully composed, turned her sharp gaze to Carlo.
“Doctor,” she said icily, “you’ve been doubting him from the start, yet he delivered results you couldn’t even dream of. So tell me—who’s the real professional here?”
Carlo opened his mouth to argue, but quickly shut it when he saw the steely look in her eyes.
“Leave!” she commanded.
Chapter 8: A Miraculous Turn
“What?”
“You heard me,” she said. “Get out! I don’t need a doctor who can’t see past his own arrogance!”
Carlo clenched his fists but ultimately stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
The interns hesitated, glancing nervously between Joaquin and Andrea before hurrying after their superior.
Outside the room, the interns huddled around Carlo, their voices low and filled with doubt.
“Do you think he’s legit?” one of them asked.
“Impossible!” another replied. “No one heals that quickly.”
“He’s a fraud!”
Carlo, still fuming, clenched his fists.
“He’s hiding something,” he said. “I’ll find out what it is.”
With that, he headed toward the caregiver station, determined to dig into Joaquin’s past.
Back in the room, Andrea’s demeanor shifted. Her stern expression softened as she turned her attention to Joaquin.
“That was… impressive,” she said, her voice teasing. “What do I owe you for such a miracle? My gratitude? Or something more… personal?”
Joaquin blinked, caught off guard by the sudden flirtation.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said quickly.
Andrea chuckled. “Relax, I’m just joking.” She leaned back, studying him with curiosity.
“But seriously, you’re impressive. You’re not like the others here. You’re different.”
Joaquin hesitated before speaking. “I wasn’t always in this position,” he admitted. “I was a doctor… until I was framed.”
Andrea’s smile faded, replaced by genuine interest.
“Framed? For what?”
“Plagiarizing medical records,” Joaquin said bitterly.
“Someone tampered with my files, and I lost everything. My reputation, my job—it’s all gone.”
Andrea leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “And yet, here you are, still working in the medical field. Why?”
“Because helping people is all I know,” Joaquin replied. “I can’t give up on that, no matter what happened to me.”
Andrea studied him for a moment, her expression thoughtful.
“You’re either incredibly determined or incredibly stubborn,” she said.
Then, with a smirk, she added, “I like that. How about this: I’ll hire you as my personal doctor.”
Joaquin stared at her, taken aback.
“Your personal doctor?”
Andrea nodded.
“I have the resources to make sure you’re treated fairly. Besides, I could use someone with your… unique skills.”
Before Joaquin could respond, Andrea’s assistant entered the room, holding a tablet.
She leaned down to whisper something in Andrea’s ear, her eyes darting toward Joaquin as she spoke.
Andrea’s expression didn’t change, but a shadow of tension flickered across her face.
She dismissed the assistant with a nod.
“What was that about?” Joaquin asked, sensing the shift in her mood.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Andrea said smoothly, her smile returning.
The door burst open before the conversation could continue, and Andrew stormed in.
His eyes darted between Andrea and Joaquin, brimming with indignation.
“What’s this I hear about you hiring him?!” Andrew demanded, his voice dripping with disdain.
Andrea’s gaze turned icy. “It’s exactly what it sounds like,” she said.
Andrew scoffed.
“You can’t be serious. Do you know who this man is? He’s irresponsible, unprofessional—”
“Enough!” Andrea interrupted sharply. “You don’t get to make decisions for me, Andrew.”
Andrew ignored her, turning his attention to Joaquin.
“You’re nothing but a disgrace,” he sneered. “An illegitimate child, a fraud, a—”
A loud slap echoed through the room, silencing him instantly.
Chapter 9: Breaking Point
Andrew’s face turned an angry crimson, the sting of Joaquin’s slap fresh and humiliating.
“Y-You… How dare you?!”
He clenched his jaw, his fists trembling as he glared at Joaquin.
“You’ll regret this!” Andrew hissed, his voice venomous. He raised his hand, but Andrea’s cold, cutting voice stopped him mid-motion.
“If you lay a finger on him,” she said, her tone laced with steel, “you won’t leave this room unscathed! You should know better than to challenge me, Andrew.”
Andrew froze, his pride battling his fear of Andrea’s influence.
After a long, tense pause, he lowered his fist and spat out,
“This isn’t over!”
With one last glare at Joaquin, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by Andrea’s amused chuckle.
“Well,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “that was dramatic. Tell me, Joaquin, how did it feel to slap Andrew?”
Joaquin blinked at her, caught off guard by the sudden levity.
Slowly, a small smirk crept onto his face.
“It felt… satisfying,” he admitted.
“I’ve been holding back for so long. I was weak before, always trying to avoid conflict. But today—”
Andrea cut him off with a wave of her hand.
“That’s all well and good, but don’t think slapping people will solve all your problems. You need to be firm, ruthless when necessary.” Her voice softened, and she added,
“But don’t worry. From now on, no one will bully you as long as I’m around.”
Joaquin looked at her, a mixture of gratitude and skepticism in his eyes.
He wanted to believe her, but years of hardship had made trust difficult.
Andrea raised an eyebrow, her teasing smile returning.
“So, how about a kiss as thanks for my help?”
Joaquin’s eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed.
“A k-kiss?” he stammered.
Andrea laughed. “Relax, I’m joking. You’re too easy to fluster, Joaquin.” She grabbed the contract sitting on the desk. “Now, let’s get back to business.”
Joaquin handed her a pen, and Andrea quickly signed the document with a flourish.
“There,” she said, sliding it back to him. “You’re officially my caregiver. No one can kick you out now, not even Andrew.”
Joaquin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Andrea replied. “You’ve got a long way to go.”
Andrea shifted her attention to her injured leg, wincing slightly as she adjusted her position.
“By the way, can you help me with this leg? It’s been giving me hell.”
Joaquin knelt to inspect it but shook his head after a moment.
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t learned the techniques for bone setting yet. For now, you need to rest and avoid putting pressure on it.”
Andrea sighed dramatically.
“You’re killing me, Joaquin. What good are you if you can’t fix my leg?”
Joaquin chuckled despite himself.
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
Meanwhile, in the hospital lobby, Jasmine, Joaquin’s sister, walked through the bustling corridors, her expression tense.
She was here for one reason: to discuss Joaquin’s engagement with Mikyla.
But as she rounded the corner, she froze, her stomach sinking at the sight before her.
Mikyla stood close to Andrew, her hand resting lightly on his arm as they laughed about something.
The intimacy between them was undeniable.
“Mikyla!” Jasmine called out, her voice sharp.
Both Mikyla and Andrew turned to face her.
Mikyla’s expression hardened instantly. “Jasmine,” she said coolly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you about Joaquin,” Jasmine began, she looked at Andrew. “But what is this?! Are you cheating on my brother?!”
Mikyla chuckled mockingly.
“Cheating?” she said. “Joaquin and I are over. We’ve broken up already!”
Jasmine’s heart clenched.
“W-What?”
“Yes! He is nothing to me now!”
“How can you say that? After everything he’s done for you?”
Mikyla waved her hand, dismissing Jasmine’s question.
“Also, maybe you haven’t heard,” she said mockingly. “Joaquin’s been demoted to the caregiver station. He’s nothing but a disgrace now.”
“T-That… can’t be true! Joaquin’s a doctor!” Jasmine insisted.
“Oh, but there’s more,” Andrew continued, his tone dripping with malice. “Your brother assaulted me today. Do you think I’ll let that slide? I’ll make sure he’s out of this hospital by the end of the week.”
Jasmine’s eyes widened. Being a doctor was his brother’s dream.
She couldn't take it if she saw him loosing what he had been working hard for.
“P-Please,” she said, her voice trembling. “Don’t ruin his career! He’s been through enough–”
Before Jasmine could finish her sentence, Andrew slapped her mercilessly.
She almost fell but managed to compose herself.
She looked at Mikyla trying to find any awe in her, but she just smirked.
“You deserve it! Joaquin assaulted Andrew too!” Mikyla blurted.
Jasmine's eyes watered, she cannot let her pride ruin her brother’s reputation.
She looked down and said, “S-Sorry… Please, don’t do this to my brother!”
“Begging, are we? How pathetic. If you want me to spare him, then kneel and apologize,” Andrew said.
For a second, Jasmine hesitated.
She looked at Andrew and Jasmine hopelessly.
But she slowly dropped to her knees, swallowing all his pride and embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Andrew leaned down, his smile cEmilio.
“What? I can’t hear you,” he said mockingly.
Jasmine tightened her grip.
“I’m sorry!” Jasmine cried, her humiliation complete.
Andrew and Mikyla laughed.
The humiliation was unbearing and Jasmine couldn’t do anything but cry.
She could hear the murmurs around her, but she didn’t mind it at all.
For his brother, she would do everything.
She didn’t notice that behind them, Joaquin stood frozen in the hallway, just witnessing the entire scene.
His eyes red.
Anger and sorrow storming inside him.
Chapter 10: No More Restraint
Joaquin’s vision blurred with fury as he launched himself at Andrew, his hand gripping Andrew’s throat in an ironclad hold.
Andrew choked, his hands scrabbling at Joaquin’s arm, but the pressure didn’t ease.
Joaquin’s voice was a low growl.
“How dare you hurt my sister?!”
Andrew’s legs kicked out, trying to break free, but Joaquin’s grip only tightened, cutting off his breath.
His face was turning purple, the struggle in his eyes becoming more frantic.
“Joaquin, let him go!” Mikyla shouted, stepping forward, her face stricken with fear.
Joaquin turned his cold eyes on her.
“Anyone who hurts my sister doesn’t deserve mercy!” he spat, the venom in his voice unmistakable.
Mikyla flinched, but she didn’t retreat.
“Please, think about what you’re doing! This won’t end well for any of us!”
Joaquin ignored her, his gaze locked on Andrew, who was still gasping for air.
Just when it seemed like Andrew might pass out, Jasmine’s voice broke through the chaos.
“Joaquin, please!” she sobbed, her voice desperate. “Stop! Let him go! I’m okay now!”
Her tears hit Joaquin harder than anything else.
His anger faltered for a moment, and he slowly loosened his grip, though his rage still burned beneath the surface.
“Joaquin,” Jasmine whispered, stepping closer. “Please, don’t make this worse. I can take care of myself.”
Andrew slumped to the ground, coughing and wheezing, as he struggled to recover his breath.
He glared up at Joaquin, his face twisted in a mix of anger and humiliation.
“You’ll regret this!” he hissed between ragged breaths. “There will be consequences!”
Joaquin didn’t reply.
His gaze hardened, and he took a step back, only to be interrupted by Mikyla’s voice, sharp and demanding.
“You owe him an apology, Joaquin! This is completely out of line!”
Joaquin’s fists clenched.
“Out of line? He slapped my sister! And you want me to apologize?” he snapped, his voice cold as ice. “And you! She’s been too good to you and you let this happen to her?!”
Mikyla looked away.
Jasmine quickly stepped between them, looking down at Andrew with an uneasy sigh.
“Please, Joaquin, just apologize,” she pleaded, turning back to Andrew. “I’m sorry for everything. Here...” ‘
She fumbled in her purse and pulled out a stack of cash, offering it to Andrew.
“A thousand dollars for... emotional distress.”
Andrew’s eyes glinted with contempt.
“A thousand?!” he sneered, slapping the money out of her hand. “This is a joke!”
He raised his hand and slapped Jasmine across the face twice, the sound echoing in the tense air.
Joaquin’s vision went red.
His hands shook with rage, but before he could act, Mikyla grabbed his arm, holding him back with surprising strength.
“Joaquin, don’t!” she warned her voice tight with fear. “If you escalate this, it’ll be worse for all of us. Please!”
Joaquin turned his head, his eyes burning with fury, but his sister’s voice softened his resolve, even if just a little.
Jasmine, her cheek red from the slap, lowered her head, her voice trembling.
“I’m sorry,” she begged to Andrew, barely above a whisper, “for everything. Please... just let it go.”
But Andrew wasn’t satisfied.
His mocking laugh filled the air.
“You think this will fix anything? You're pathetic!” he sneered.
Andrew looked at Jasmine from head to toe.
“But well… I didn’t know that you had such a beautiful sister, Joaquin. Maybe I would accept your apology if you gave me a different kind of payment.”
Andrew grinned.
Joaquin frowned. “What do you mean?”
“With such beautiful body. A big breasts and nice ass. I would forgive you all immediately if she will let me sleep with her. What do you think, Joaquin?”
“W-What?” Jasmine gasped. She hugged her body.
Joaquin could hardly breathe, his anger rising again.
“Come on, Jasmine. You wanted me to forgive your brother right?”
Andrew come closer to Jasmine. He touched her cheeks slowly and bit his lips.
“We will have a great time if you would accept it.”
Jasmine’s mouth opened.
“Enough!” Joaquin growled.
His eyes narrowed as he spun around in a flash, grabbing Andrew by the collar and lifting him off the ground.
Andrew’s eyes widened in fear as he realized the gravity of the situation.
Joaquin’s strength had escalated, and now, Andrew was at his mercy.
Joaquin slammed him to the ground with a force that made Andrew grunt with pain.
Chapter 11: The Standoff
Joaquin’s foot hovered over Andrew’s hand, the tension in the room was palpable, ready to crush it completely.
His breath came in heavy, controlled bursts as his anger surged through him.
Just as he was about to press down, a voice shouted from the door.
“Joaquin! Stop!”
Joaquin froze, his eyes darting toward the voice.
Serena stood in the doorway, her face a mask of stern authority.
“Let him go! Now!” she ordered, her tone unwavering.
Andrew, seizing the opportunity, gasped for air, his voice barely audible as he wheezed, “Help... Help! Someone—”
Mikyla, standing by, quickly stepped forward.
“Joaquin, are you completely out of your mind? Let him go! You’re going to ruin everything!”
Serena’s gaze shifted from Joaquin to Andrew, then back.
“Joaquin, this isn’t you. Stop this madness!”
But Joaquin wasn’t done.
His eyes narrowed, and his grip on Andrew’s wrist tightened, unyielding.
“He assulted my sister! Andrew and Mikyla, they—” Joaquin paused, his chest rising and falling. “They’ve been plotting to frame me!”
Serena took a step closer.
“I know. You think I don’t know what’s been going on?”
Her voice softened slightly, but there was still an edge to it.
“But this—this won’t help. You can’t throw everything away. Your medical career, your future...” She glanced over at Andrew, still gasping for air.
“It’s not worth it.”
Joaquin stood his ground, his eyes blazing.
“I don’t care about that anymore! I’d rather leave the hospital than let them get away with this! Especially him!”
Jasmine, who had been silent until now, stepped forward.
She looked at Joaquin, her expression a mix of concern and frustration.
“Joaquin, please! Don’t let this guy ruin your life! We’ve been through too much already. Don’t throw it all away over him. I’m okay!”
He turned to look at her, the fire in his eyes dimming for just a moment.
“But he hurt you! He tried to–” he murmured, his voice low, pained.
“I know,” she whispered back, her eyes pleading. “But getting revenge on him won’t bring us peace. Let it go. You’ll regret it.”
Joaquin’s grip finally loosened, but only slightly.
He glanced at Serena, then Jasmine, weighing his options. He clenched his jaw and slowly stepped back.
“For now, I’ll let him go. But if he touches my sister again, I swear—he won’t get away with it.”
Andrew, still on the ground, gasped as he clutched his injured wrist, glaring at Joaquin with burning hatred.
He sneered. “You’ll regret this, Joaquin.! You think you’re untouchable?! There are consequences for your actions!”
Mikyla, who had been silent up until then, stepped forward, her face contorted with anger.
“This is not over! You think you can just walk away from this?! You’re a fool, Joaquin!”
Joaquin and Jasmine were about to leave when Mikyla moved to block their exit.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she said coldly. “I’ve already called Mr. Alvarez. He’ll hold you responsible for what you’ve done to Andrew!”
Joaquin’s eyes burned with fury again.
“It’s self-defense, Mikyla! He threw a brick at me!” he said in defense.
Serena, sensing the rising tension, took a step forward, her voice calm but firm. “It’s true. I saw everything.”
“It doesn’t matter! You injured Andrew more! Do you think his father will just let this go?”
Mikyla smirked when she saw the hesitation to Serana’s face.
Serena took a deep breath.
“I’ll take responsibility for what happened here,” she said, her gaze steady. “Let Joaquin leave with his sister. It’s over.”
Mikyla scoffed. “You can’t protect him forever, Serena. You know that Mr. Alvarez will make sure he pays for this!”
Serena’s expression didn’t waver.
“You don’t want to make this a bigger issue than it already is. I’m advising you to let them go.”
Jasmine, who had been silent at Joaquin’s side, looked at Serena and smiled.
“Don’t worry, Miss. Joaquin will be okay.”
Mikyla laughed. “Really? Don’t be a fool, Jasmine! Your brother is nothing!”
Jasmine’s expression became serious.
“I wouldn’t be sure about that.”
Then, the door slammed open, and a figure stormed into the room.
It was Antonio Alvarez, Andrew’s father, accompanied by two large security guards.
The man’s face was red with fury.
“What the hell happened here?” Antonio demanded, his voice booming through the room.
He took one look at his son, still sitting on the floor, clutching his hand in pain, and his eyes flashed with rage.
“Andrew, are you okay? What did he do to you?”
Andrew, still gasping for breath, pointed a trembling finger at Joaquin.
“He attacked me! He’s insane!”
Antonio turned to the security guards.
“Take action, now! Get this man out of here!”
Mikyla quickly pointed to Joaquin.
“It was him, Mr. Alvarez! He did this! He’s the one who attacked Andrew!”
Antonio’s gaze shifted to Joaquin, his anger flaring.
“You think you can just attack my son and get away with it? You’ll pay for this! You’ll regret laying a finger on him!”
Chapter 12: A Twist of Fate
As the security guards moved in closer, preparing to take Joaquin into custody, Serena stepped forward.
She raised her hand to halt them, her voice clear.
"Stop! You cannot just act without following the proper procedures! This is a hospital, not a battlefield!"
Antonio sneered.
"Procedures? This man assaulted my son! I don’t need to follow any rules when my family is involved."
Serena’s eyes flashed with determination as she stepped in front of Joaquin.
"You’re abusing your power, Mr. Alvarez! If you take one more step, you’ll be in direct violation of hospital regulations!"
Antonio’s expression didn’t waver, his anger still burning.
"I don’t care about regulations when it comes to my son! This ends now!"
He gestured sharply to the guards, signaling them to move forward.
Joaquin knew he had no choice but to stand his ground. His earlier restraint had already been a concession.
But Serena, despite her calm demeanor, wasn’t backing down.
Before anyone could act, a sleek Maybach pulled into the parking lot, the engine roaring as it skidded to a halt.
The sound echoed in the tense atmosphere. The door opened, and a man stepped out—Rick Smith, wearing a crisp suit that screamed authority.
Antonio’s expression shifted immediately. He straightened up and gave a slight bow.
"Mr. Smith!" he greeted, his tone full of respect.
Rick walked toward Joaquin, ignoring everyone else in the room.
"Joaquin," he said, his voice firm and commanding. "I’ve come to take you to the Dragon King’s residence. He wants to meet with you."
‘Dragon King?’ Joaquin question himself.
He doen’t have an idea who was the Dragon King.
Antonio’s eyes widened in disbelief.
"The Dragon King?" he muttered, glancing between Joaquin and Rick. "You... you must be mistaken. There’s no way this young man knows him."
Rick’s gaze turned icy.
"I’m not mistaken, Mr Alvarez. Joaquin is indeed a friend of the Dragon King. And if you question that, I suggest you reconsider."
He pointed to the Maybach parked outside.
"That car belongs to the Dragon King. Do you really want to challenge that?"
Antonio’s face drained of color as he looked toward the luxury car.
The Dragon King’s name carried so much influence that even the most powerful figures in the city feared him.
“Wait. Are you sure you are looking for me?” Joaquin asked in confusion.
Rick looked at Joaquin with a smile.
“Yes, I am sure, Mr. Lopez.”
Joaquin, still confused, didn’t response Rick.
His earlier anger was still there, but now it was tempered by a mix of disbelief and cautious hope.
Serena gave him a small nod, signaling him to follow Rick.
Rick turned back toward the door, his hand resting on the handle.
"You and your sister are coming with me. If you please?"
Joaquin, still processing the sudden change, nodded and walked toward the door, Jasmine following closely behind him.
Before they exited, he paused and turned back to Serena. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude.
Serena gave him a knowing smile.
"Take care, Joaquin. And be careful. The Dragon King’s people are powerful, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe."
Joaquin’s heart quickened, but he didn’t dwell on it.
Andrew stormed toward Joaquin just as he was stepping into the Maybach.
"You’re not getting away with this, Joaquin! I’ll make you pay!"
Before Andrew could take another step, Rick turned sharply, his gaze piercing.
"Enough!" he said, his voice low but commanding, cutting through the chaos like a knife.
Andrew froze mid-stride, startled by the intensity of Rick's tone.
"Step back if you know what’s good for you."
Andrew glared at him, his fists clenched tightly.
"Do you have any idea who I am? My father runs this hospital, and I’ll—"
Rick took a deliberate step forward, the authority in his presence impossible to ignore.
"Do you have any idea who I represent?"
He pointed to the Maybach with a flick of his wrist.
"The Dragon King. And trust me, your father or anyone else in this city wouldn’t dare cross him. Do you really want to find out why?"
Andrew faltered, his bravado slipping, but his rage hadn’t abated.
He turned to his father, Antonio, who stood nearby with his head lowered, his usual confidence nowhere to be seen.
"Dad! Are you seriously letting him leave? After everything he did?" Andrew's voice was incredulous, disbelief etched into his features.
Antonio sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world had suddenly fallen on him.
He didn’t meet his son’s eyes.
"Andrew, enough. Let it go."
"Let it go?" Andrew echoed, his voice rising with every syllable. "He attacked me! Humiliated me! And you’re just letting him walk away like it’s nothing?"
Antonio finally looked at his son, his expression tired and resigned.
"You don’t understand, Andrew. You’re thinking like a child. This isn’t about pride or bruised egos. This is about survival!"
Andrew’s face twisted in confusion and anger.
"What are you talking about? We have power! You run this hospital! How can you—"
"Enough!"
Antonio snapped, silencing his son.
For the first time, his voice held the authority of a man who had seen too much.
"The Dragon King’s influence stretches far beyond this hospital, this city... even beyond this country. One wrong move against him, and our entire family could be ruined overnight."
Andrew stared at his father, speechless. He had never seen him like this—defeated, fearful, powerless.
"So what? I’m supposed to just forget about it? Let him get away with this?"
Antonio shook his head slowly. "Don’t worry. He can’t get away forever.”
Chapter 13
In the quiet hum of the car, Joaquin sighed deeply and turned to his sister, Jasmine.
"I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess today. You didn’t deserve any of it."
Jasmine glanced at him with a gentle smile.
"You’re my brother. You don’t have to apologize for standing up for me." She paused, her voice softening.
"But you have to take care of yourself too. If things don’t work out at the hospital, it’s not the end of the world. You can find another path."
Joaquin nodded, though his jaw tightened.
He knew she was right, but the thought of leaving behind the career he had worked so hard for wasn’t easy.
Jasmine hesitated before adding, "And Mikyla... she’s not the same person anymore. You deserve someone who values you for who you are, not what they can gain from you."
He let her words sink in, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I’ll think about it," he promised. "And I’ll be home early for dinner tonight."
Jasmine nodded.
Joaquin watched her disappear inside, then turned to Rick, who was waiting patiently in the driver’s seat.
The car pulled away, and the weight of the day hung heavy in the air.
Joaquin finally broke the silence. "Rick, who exactly is this Dragon King? And why would someone like him want anything to do with me?"
Rick glanced at him briefly before returning his attention to the road.
"The Dragon King is more than just a name. He’s the ruler of Jiangzhou’s underground world, a legend among legends. He was once ranked at the top of the hierarchy—something very few can claim."
Joaquin frowned.
The name sounded familiar, yet distant.
"Why would someone like that care about a guy like me?"
Rick smirked faintly. "Because you’ve already met him."
Joaquin’s confusion deepened. "What?"
"The elderly man from yesterday," Rick clarified. "That was Miguel Suarez, the Dragon King himself. Not many know his real name, but those who do call him the Dragon King out of respect—or fear."
The revelation hit Joaquin like a thunderbolt.
"You’re saying that man... the one in the park, the grandfather of the child that I save, is the most feared figure in Jiangzhou?"
Rick chuckled lightly. "Yes. Beneath that calm exterior is a man who has survived battles most of us couldn’t even imagine. And you—" Rick shot him a meaningful glance, "—have caught his attention."
Joaquin fell silent, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place.
The car eventually slowed as they approached Suarez Mansion, a sprawling estate that looked like it belonged in a movie.
The gates opened soundlessly, revealing a grand villa surrounded by manicured gardens and guarded by men who looked like they could break someone in half with a glance.
Rick led Joaquin out of the car and toward the main courtyard.
"Stay close and speak only when spoken to," Rick advised. "The Dragon King values respect above all else."
As they entered the garden, Joaquin’s eyes were drawn to the lush greenery and intricate landscaping.
It was beautiful, almost serene—but there was something else.
A chill ran down his spine, a sensation he couldn’t quite place.
Rick noticed Joaquin’s unease.
"Feel it, don’t you?" he murmured.
Joaquin nodded slowly.
"It’s... unsettling. Like the air is thick with something dark."
Before Rick could respond, an older man stepped out from behind a row of rose bushes, his hands stained with soil.
Miguel Suarez looked up from his gardening and fixed Joaquin with a sharp gaze.
"You feel it, don’t you?" Miguel said, his voice steady but probing.
Joaquin swallowed hard, suddenly aware that everyone’s attention was on him.
"I do," he admitted. "The garden is beautiful, but there’s... an aura to it. It feels like death."
A tense silence followed his words.
Rick gave Joaquin a warning look, but Miguel’s expression remained unreadable.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, Miguel smiled.
"You’re not bad, boy. Most people wouldn’t have the guts to say that to my face."
Joaquin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Miguel dusted off his hands and gestured for Joaquin to follow him further into the courtyard. As they walked, Miguel’s tone grew serious.
"I didn’t invite you here for pleasantries, Joaquin. I need a favor."
Joaquin hesitated. "A favor?"
Miguel stopped and turned to face him directly. "Yes. You see, I’m dying."
The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. Joaquin blinked, unsure of how to respond.
"What?!"
"You’re a doctor," Miguel said simply. "And one with a certain... intuition. I want you to treat me."
Chapter 14
Joaquin stood frozen, staring at Miguel.
“You… are sick?”
Joaquin looked at Miguel from head to toe.
At first glance, he doesn’t look sick or dying at all.
“Yes. It’s exactly what you heard.”
Joaquin stepped back. “And you want me to treat you?”
His voice wavered between disbelief and panic.
Miguel gave a slow nod, his gaze steady and unwavering.
"I wouldn’t have called for you if I didn’t think you were capable."
"But… I’m just a regular doctor," Joaquin argued. "I’m not some miracle worker! There are specialists—people who’ve studied rare diseases their whole lives. Why me?"
Miguel faintly smirked playing on his lips.
"Because they failed. All of them. You wouldn’t want to know how many doctors had already seen me, but they all failed. You’re my last chance, Joaquin."
“I… I don’t think I can do it too if they cannot!” he exclaimed.
Rick stepped closer, his imposing figure adding weight to Miguel’s words.
"He’s not exaggerating, Mr. Lopez. The others who refused or couldn’t deliver? Let’s just say they didn’t walk away unscathed,” he warned.
Joaquin swallowed hard.
His pulse raced as he realized the full scope of the situation.
He wasn’t just being asked to treat a patient—he was being dragged into something far more dangerous.
"I... I don’t know if I can do this," Joaquin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Miguel’s smirk vanished, replaced by a sharp, commanding tone.
"You can, and you will. I saw it immediately the first time I saw you. And you sense it now, right? Or do you want Rick to remind you what happens when people disappoint me?"
Rick’s hand rested on Joaquin’s shoulder, firm and unyielding.
"We’d rather avoid that, wouldn’t we?"
Joaquin hesitated, feeling trapped.
Finally, he exhaled deeply and nodded.
"Fine. I’ll examine you. But I’m not promising anything."
Miguel inclined his head slightly.
"That’s all I need for now."
Rick gestured for Joaquin to follow him.
They entered a private medical suite within the sprawling villa—state-of-the-art equipment gleaming under sterile lights.
Joaquin set his bag on the counter and pulled on a pair of gloves, trying to steady his hands.
"Let’s start," Joaquin said, his voice firmer than he felt.
Miguel removed his shirt, revealing a physique that seemed deceptively healthy for a man claiming to be near death.
Joaquin approached cautiously, placing his stethoscope against Miguel’s chest.
He frowned. The heartbeat was irregular—its rhythm erratic and unpredictable.
"Your heartbeat... it’s not normal," Joaquin muttered.
Miguel raised an eyebrow. "Define 'not normal.'"
"It’s like your heart’s trying to compensate for something, but it’s not working properly. Almost like..."
Joaquin trailed off, unsure how to articulate the strangeness he was hearing.
He moved the stethoscope to Miguel’s back, listening to his lungs.
One side sounded weaker than the other, like a pair of uneven bellows struggling to keep up.
"Do you ever feel short of breath?" Joaquin asked.
"Occasionally," Miguel admitted. "I’ve learned to manage it."
Joaquin removed the stethoscope and reached for Miguel’s hands.
His brow furrowed as he felt the stark contrast between them—one hand was ice-cold, the other radiated heat.
"How long has this been happening?" Joaquin asked, holding up Miguel’s hands for emphasis.
"Months," Miguel replied, as though it were an ordinary inconvenience. "It started mild and grew more extreme over time."
Joaquin’s frown deepened.
This wasn’t just unusual—it was unprecedented.
He grabbed a thermometer and began checking Miguel’s temperature.
The readings fluctuated wildly from one side of his body to the other, defying logic.
"This doesn’t make sense," Joaquin muttered. "Your body is acting like two completely separate systems. Cold and heat, erratic vitals—it’s like you’re tearing yourself apart."
Miguel chuckled dryly.
"That’s one way to put it."
Joaquin’s hands shook as he took a step back, processing everything.
"I’ve never seen anything like this. I’ll need more tests—scans, blood work, everything."
Miguel shook his head.
"No time for that. You’ve seen enough to give me an answer."
Joaquin hesitated, then met Miguel’s expectant gaze.
"If I’m being honest... this looks terminal. Whatever’s happening to you, it’s progressing fast. I’d estimate you have less than seven days—maybe less."
Chapter 15
"If I’m being honest... this looks terminal. Whatever’s happening to you, it’s progressing fast. I’d estimate you have less than seven days—maybe less."
Rick’s glare darkened.
"Watch your mouth, doc. Do you realize who you’re talking to?"
Miguel lifted a hand, his voice calm but commanding.
"Let him finish."
Joaquin hesitated but pressed on.
"I think you’ve been poisoned. This isn’t an ordinary illness. From everything I’ve observed, this points to a rare and lethal compound snake venom."
"Snake venom?"
Miguel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his tone remained even.
Joaquin nodded.
"It’s not just any venom, either. It’s engineered to act slowly, making it difficult to detect until it’s too late. Tell me—when did the symptoms first appear?"
Miguel’s gaze drifted for a moment before he answered.
"The first six months were... normal. I didn’t feel anything unusual. Then came the abdominal pain. At first, it was mild, manageable."
"And after that?" Joaquin prompted.
Miguel leaned back, his voice steady but with a hint of exhaustion.
"The pain worsened. A year in, I began to feel cold—unnaturally cold. Even in the middle of summer, I needed a heater. Eventually, the cold turned into something else. Heat. The kind that made me feel like I was burning alive. It alternated, growing worse over time."
Rick frowned.
"This sounds like nonsense. How can one body react like that?"
Ignoring Rick, Joaquin nodded thoughtfully.
"That fits the progression of compound snake venom. The poison disrupts the body’s equilibrium. Over time, it forces one side to overheat while the other side freezes. It also causes immense internal damage."
Miguel observed Joaquin carefully.
"And you think this venom is the cause of my condition?"
"Without a doubt," Joaquin replied firJoaquiny. "It’s rare, but the signs are all there. I’ll need to examine your back for confirmation. The venom leaves marks beneath the skin."
Miguel unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his back.
Joaquin’s breath caught at the sight.
One side of Miguel’s back was an angry, blistering red, as if it had been scorched by fire.
The other side was pale, almost bluish, with a frosty sheen.
Veins snaked across his skin in raised, purple lines, intertwining like the image of two serpents coiled together.
"This... this is it," Joaquin murmured.
Rick leaned closer, his skepticism giving way to shock.
"What the hell is that?"
Joaquin straightened.
"The venom. It’s dormant for the first six months, then activates in stages. It starts with sensitivity to cold, then heat, before fully destabilizing the body. Most people wouldn’t survive three years with this. The fact that you’ve endured nine is... remarkable."
Miguel chuckled dryly.
"Remarkable or cursed, I’ll let you decide."
"How have you managed the pain for so long?" Joaquin asked, genuinely curious.
"Discipline," Miguel said simply. "And willpower. But now... even that isn’t enough."
Joaquin frowned.
"I’m impressed, but this is the final stage. Without intervention, the poison will destroy your internal organs entirely. I’d say you have about a week left."
Rick’s fists clenched.
"You’re just full of sunshine, aren’t you?"
Miguel silenced him again.
"Is there a cure?"
Joaquin hesitated.
"There’s no simple antidote for compound snake venom. It’s... practically impossible to treat."
"Practically impossible isn’t the same as impossible," Miguel pressed. "There must be something."
Joaquin sighed.
"There’s a possibility, but it’s a long shot. A very dangerous one."
Miguel leaned forward, his gaze sharp.
"Speak."
