Treatment requires a quiet environment by nature. Even though Hudson hadn't spoken loudly, in the stillness of the room, his voice cut through like a knife.
Dr. Martinez, mid-procedure, flinched slightly as the needle in his hand paused in mid-air. He slowly straightened, turning toward Hudson with a sharp, irritated glare.
Everyone has their own habits, and for Dr. Martinez, silence during treatment wasn't just a preference—it was a rule. And now someone had not only interrupted him, but had the audacity to say, "If you place that needle, he'll die."
Dr. Martinez clenched his jaw. He wanted to ask this young man, "Who's the doctor here—me or you?"
Adrian and Ivory, still shaken by Hudson's warning, were snapped back to reality by Dr. Martinez's glare. Adrian rushed forward, clearly nervous, and barked at Hudson, "What the hell are you doing? Don't you realize Dr. Martinez is in the middle of a critical treatment? What if your interruption causes a mistake? Can you take responsibility for that?"
He was panicked. Dr. Martinez was known for having little patience for interference—he'd been known to walk out mid-procedure if disrespected. And getting him here hadn't been easy or cheap. Adrian couldn't let some young nobody ruin it.
Trying to defuse the tension, he quickly turned back to Dr. Martinez and said apologetically, "Dr. Martinez, please don't take offense. He's young and doesn't know better. Let's not let his nonsense disrupt your work."
Dr. Martinez shook his hand dismissively, face tight with frustration. "You know I don't tolerate this kind of behavior," he muttered.
Adrian gave a strained smile, then turned back toward Hudson. His expression shifted from submissive to furious in a second.
"You. Out. Now," he ordered, pointing at the door. "You're not welcome here."
The tension in the room thickened like fog.
"Uncle, that's not right," Ivory said firmly. "No matter what, Hudson is a guest in our home."
Her voice was calm, but her words drew a clear line.
He may have said something out of turn, but Ivory knew her grandfather valued Hudson. He saw him as someone worth befriending. Even if no one else noticed, she had—especially after hearing Hudson's insight into her grandfather's illness.
Chasing someone like that out the door? It might cost them more than they realized.
Adrian's patience snapped. "I said get out!" he barked again.
Ivory opened her mouth to argue, but Hudson spoke first.
"It's fine," he said easily. "It's a bit stuffy here anyway. I'll get some air."
He turned toward the door, offering Ivory a calm smile before stepping outside. There was no anger in his voice, no sign of being offended.
His thinking was simple: if they didn't want to listen, he wouldn't argue. But once things went wrong, they'd remember his warning.
Ivory hesitated, then followed him outside. She couldn't just let him leave alone.
Back in the room, Adrian turned to Dr. Martinez and said with a flattering smile, "Please don't mind him, Dr. Martinez. I don't even know who that guy is—probably one of Ivory's admirers trying to show off. Young people love to talk big. Don't take it seriously," he said, chuckling awkwardly. "Once this is done, I'll deal with him myself."
Dr. Martinez didn't reply, but he gave a tight nod and turned back to his treatment. He wasn't about to storm out, not with the procedure already in progress and the Lewis family being so prominent in Beverly.
Outside, Ivory caught up to Hudson, her face filled with guilt.
"Hey, I'm so sorry. My Uncle has a temper, and he just—"
Hudson waved her off. "It's fine," he said, smiling casually. "I'm not that sensitive."
She studied his face, searching for any sign of irritation, but there was none. He looked completely at ease.
Still, her heart tightened with worry.
"Hudson," she said hesitantly, "you said… if Dr. Martinez went through with that needle, it would kill my grandfather. Were you serious?"
Her voice trembled slightly.
She wasn't a doctor. She didn't know whom to believe. But she knew this—if something happened to her grandfather, and Hudson had been right all along, she would never forgive herself.
On one hand, Dr. Martinez was a renowned physician with decades of reputation behind him—some even called him a medical saint.
On the other hand, Hudson was a man Ivory had only just met, someone she barely knew. But her instincts told her there was more to him than met the eye. He wasn't ordinary.
"You'll see soon enough," Hudson said with a calm smile, offering no further explanation.
Inside the house, Dr. Martinez had just finished placing one needle and was reaching for another when Arlo, who had been unconscious, suddenly began to tremble violently. His body seized, and the color of his skin turned an alarming shade of red, darkening by the second.
"Ah!" Dr. Martinez gasped, startled by the sudden reaction.
Adrian rushed forward, panic rising in his voice. "Dr. Martinez! What's happening to my father?"
Dr. Martinez hesitated for a second, then forced a composed tone. "It's nothing. This is a normal reaction—it means the needle therapy is working."
Adrian opened his mouth but said nothing. His gut told him something was wrong, but he didn't dare challenge the doctor.
Still, as he watched Arlo's skin grow redder—almost unnaturally red, like blood was about to burst through the pores—Hudson's earlier warning echoed in his mind.
He grew more anxious by the second, but fear and pride kept him quiet.
Dr. Martinez, now trying to reassert control over the situation, continued with the needle therapy. He was determined to bring things back on track. But with each needle, Arlo's condition only worsened.
Damn it. What's happening? Dr. Martinez thought, his heart racing.
He was supposed to be one of the most respected doctors in the region. If this man died under his care, especially in front of the Lewis family, it wouldn't just be his reputation on the line—it could destroy his career.
If this had been some poor nobody from a small village, he could've thrown money at the problem and moved on. But the Lewis? They didn't need money. And they wouldn't forget.
Adrian, sweating now, couldn't take it anymore. "Dr. Martinez... are you sure he's okay?"
Dr. Martinez, feeling the pressure mounting, forced another calm response. "It's a normal reaction. Don't worry."
Time dragged. Dr. Martinez kept pulling out and reapplying needles, but Arlo's face was no longer just red—it had turned an ominous blackish color. Something was clearly very, very wrong.
Still, Dr. Martinez kept up the facade, pretending everything was under control.
Adrian bit his tongue, his worry turning into dread. He didn't want to interrupt the treatment—but his father looked like he was dying.
Suddenly, Arlo's body lurched, and he vomited a mouthful of dark blood. His eyes rolled back in his head.
"Dad!" Adrian shouted, lunging toward the bed.
His voice cracked as he turned toward Dr. Martinez. "Dr. Martinez, what's happening?! What's wrong with my father?!"
Dr. Martinez stood frozen. He'd been desperately trying to think of an explanation, some way to spin the situation in his favor—but now that blood had been spilled, there was no hiding the truth.
Adrian stood up slowly, his voice rough and cold. "Dr. Martinez... What did you do? Tell me what's going on!"
Dr. Martinez's confidence crumbled. Under the pressure of Adrian's glare, he instinctively stepped back.
Then, gritting his teeth, he blurted, "It's that kid! The one who interrupted earlier—it's his fault. He distracted me. He'll have to take responsibility for this!"