Alex couldn''t help scrutinizing Victor-a subconscious reaction triggered by


    Raymond''s instruction to investigate everyone close to him.


    His gaze wandered casually across Victor''s face. When Victor turned slightly, Alex quickly checked his right ear.


    Nothing there. He exhaled with relief.


    Lately, being around Victor made him feel strangely uneasy. Victor had imed he only smoked when under surgical pressure, yet here he was, cigarette in hand, handling it with practiced ease despite having no operations scheduled.


    Victor seemed oblivious to Alex''s scrutiny as he methodically finished his cigarette and flicked the butt into a nearby trash can.


    "Alex, have you tried the mtonin I gave you?" Victor asked.


    "Not yet. I''ve been working on a screeny and needed to stay alert. Sometimes inspiration strikes at night. But I''ll start tonight-the script''s finally finished."


    "Good. Remember to rest properly."


    Alex noted how Victor''s gentleness differed from Christopher''s-Christopher was like spring water, while Victor exuded a polished warmth.


    Fatigue from screeny writing was catching up with Alex, though he had ns to meet friends for drinkster. He kept himself busy deliberately, avoiding quiet moments that would make him think about Paul. Even now, seeing that ck-and- white portrait made his chest tighten.


    He gave Victor''s shoulder a brief pat before striding away.


    Victor remained still, watching Alex''s retreating figure with a slightly raised eyebrow.


    After a night of drinking, Alex returned to his vi. He eyed the bottle of mtonin on his nightstand and took out a pill. Just as he was about to swallow it, a memory shed through his mind like lightning.


    Years ago, Raymond had been under family pressure to marry. A group of them were discussing potential spouses in a private lounge.


    Always the yboy, Alex had announced to everyone, "I had my fortune read once. This mole on the tip of my nose means I''m destined for romance but not marriage. My family won''t pressure me either I''m fated to, just have fun with beautiful.women."


    The group had jeered. Raymond, still wrestling with William''s demands to marry a stranger, had sat in the corner that night, mood terrible, engaging with no one.


    Alex, reading the room, had turned his attention to another wealthy patron. "That mole on your finger-bad cement. It means money troubles. Be careful, your family fortune might copse without warning."


    The lounge had buzzed with interest, everyone suddenly wanting Alex to read their moles.


    Victor had been there too, unusually so, quietly sipping his drink, disinterested in such frivolity.


    Someone had called out, "Alex, stop talking nonsense! Why don''t you read Victor''s mole? Look at that distinctive red one by his earlobe."


    Alex had dismissed them with a wave.


    The memory was so trivial-one night among countless others at bars with friends, talking nonsense. When Raymond mentioned someone with a red mole on their earlobe, he hadn''t connected it to this forgotten exchange.


    Now it hit him with full force. He tensedpletely.


    He hadn''t bothered to examine Victor''s ear that night, assuming thement was just


    a joke. But today, Victor''s earlobe had beenpletely unmarked.


    Had it been a joke after all?


    Despite his carefree reputation, Alex was cautious at heart. He returned the pill to its bottle, his brow furrowing.


    After deliberation, he took the bottle downstairs and handed it to a friend who worked


    at another hospital, asking them to analyze its contents.


    As he finished exining his request, his expression darkened. He desperately hoped his suspicions were wrong.


    The truth he was beginning to glimpse was too terrifying.


    He wasn''t ready to ept it.