?Chapter 1529:


    A sharp headache pierced William’s skull as conflicting emotions battled inside him. Part of him refused to believe Ste genuinely cared about his wellbeing. She had to be ying some angle, trying to lower his guard so she could feed information back to Marc.


    But another part of him — a part he could not control — felt warmth spreading through his chest at the thought of her concern.


    The two emotions warred inside him, tormenting every nerve. He squeezed his eyes shut and ruthlessly crushed that unwee feeling. When he opened them again, the usual icy coldness had returned, sharp and imprable.


    He fixed Jewell with a cial stare, his voice dropping several degrees. “It is just a scratch. You did not need toe all the way here.”


    Jewell ignored the dismissal and focused on treating the wound. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, disinfecting and bandaging the gash in smooth, economical movements. Throughout the entire process, William kept his lips pressed into a thin line, not making a single sound except for the barely perceptible hiss when the needle pierced his skin.


    Once Jewell finished securing the bandage, he straightened and met William’s gaze. “The wound is deep — it came dangerously close to your kidney. You need rest, no strenuous activity, and the bandages must be changed daily.”


    William’s expression darkened at the mention of rest and daily maintenance. He considered it a minor injury, nothing that warranted such excessive precautions.


    Jewell turned and began packing his medical kit. “I am prescribing antibiotics and painkillers. Take the painkillers if you need them, but do not abuse them.”


    William gave a curt nod.


    Jewell did not head for the door. Instead, he lingered by the desk, hesitated for a long moment, then spoke. “William, Ste was genuinely worried about you.”


    In all his years of practice, no one had ever called him past two in the morning solely to treat someone else’s injury. And given the current state of their rtionship — the hostility, the forced proximity, the pain — the fact that she had not simply let William suffer alone suggested she harbored genuine feelings for him. Jewell tried to put himself in Ste’s position. If someone imprisoned him, no matter the justification, he would hate them with every fiber of his being.


    At those words, William’s fingertips trembled — barely visible — before curling slowly into a tight fist.


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    Jewell pressed on, his voice gentle. “Her voice shook when she called me. She was terrified something would happen to you. The fact that she thought to reach out to me at all — in the middle of the night, in her situation — proves she is not indifferent to you.”


    Jewell had been helping Ste recover her memories over the past few days. William had explicitly ordered him to stop, but his own conscience would not allow him to abandon her. The results had not been dramatic yet, but they proved that William had left an indelible mark somewhere deep in Ste’s memory. Since those memories were not truly gone — only buried — continuing the work would eventually help her remember more.


    Just as Jewell opened his mouth to share these insights, William cut him off, his expression turning thunderous. “Enough.”


    His voice came out harsh and cutting, his re dark and dangerous. “Jewell, have you been too idletely? Besides acting as my personal physician, do you not have other patients who actually need your attention?”


    Jewell refused to be intimidated. He recognized William’s coldness for what it was — a carefully constructed defense. Besides, people with anxiety disorders often struggled to control their tempers. If he could not handle that, he had no business being a psychiatrist. He kept his voice calm and level, as if they were discussing nothing more serious than the weather.


    “I am speaking as your friend, trying to help you see clearly. Your feelings for her are not purely hatred, no matter what you im. Do you even understand what you are actually feeling, or are you simply too afraid to acknowledge the truth?”


    “Jewell, I said that is enough!” William’s voice dropped to something dangerously cold, as if one more word would shatter his control entirely.


    Jewell released a long sigh, collected his medical kit, and turned toward the door. At the threshold, he paused. Without turning around, he could not resist one final thought.


    “William, sometimes what terrifies us most is not hatred — it is realizing we still love someone.”


    With that, he opened the door and walked out, leaving William alone with his demons.


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