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Chapter 24: Scion of the Yarwoods
Their gazes met, and neither of them averted their eyes.
Wynter’s stare was unabashed, and for good reason—Dalton’s presence had an undeniable magnetism. She had always been keen on beauty, having met more than her fair share of handsome men, but none of them could compare to Dalton. His pale face, striking and almost ethereal, was framed by the sharpness of his features and the depth of his eyes—eyes that seemed to hide worlds within them. There was something mysterious, almost cold, about his gaze, yet it drew her in.
He looked fragile in a way, almost sickly, but there was a nobility about him that shone through—a quiet, bookish air, the kind only an aristocrat could exude. Amid the noise and bustle around them, Dalton remained calm and collected, an aura of royalty enveloping him as though he were a young scion from an ancient and powerful family.
Ryan, with his characteristic exuberance, approached Dalton enthusiastically, eager to talk.
From inside the emergency room, Wynter watched the exchange through the soundproof glass. She couldn’t hear their conversation, but she raised an eyebrow at the sight. Moments later, Dalton’s gaze shifted back toward her, and once again, their eyes locked.
Shrouded in dim lighting, Dalton’s features seemed almost blurry but impossibly alluring, his presence dominating the space.
“Dr. Genius?” he asked coldly, his voice carrying a sharp edge.
Ryan, eager to impress, continued, “Yes! I found her in the community square. She may be young, but her medical skills are extraordinary! Mr. Quinnell’s fever cooled down in just ten minutes!”
Dalton’s expression remained unreadable, but his interest was piqued. Just as he was about to ask more, Wynter stepped out of the ward, catching his attention yet again.
She walked with purpose, her movements steady as she spoke to Sergio, who was accompanying her. “Monitor the patient’s temperature for the next two days. He doesn’t need antibiotics. Increase the nebulization. I’ll write the prescription for you later. I’ll come back tomorrow for the follow-up treatment.”
Sergio, one of the most talented doctors among the Lopezes, stood by, feeling a mixture of awe and excitement. He had never been so moved by another doctor’s skill, not even when he had received international recognition for his own work. Looking at Wynter, his admiration was clear. “Noted, Dr. Genius. Can you teach me that acupuncture technique?”
A few other doctors nearby, having quietly gathered around, also showed interest. Though they didn’t hold out much hope of learning from the young doctor, they were still intrigued by the possibility of picking up some tips.
To their surprise, Wynter nodded and replied calmly, “Sure. You all take notes. I won’t repeat it. I’ll just highlight the key points, and then you can study on your own.”
Her tone was matter-of-fact, and it carried an authority that belied her age. It was as if she had done this many times before, teaching countless students, and the doctors couldn’t help but wonder—was there more to her than met the eye? How could someone so young possess such wisdom and composure? Was there an old soul hidden within her youthful body?
Outside the circle, Dalton stood with his usual aloofness, watching the scene unfold with rare interest. His usually cold and calculating demeanor softened ever so slightly, and a flicker of curiosity danced in his eyes.
Victor, ever nervous in the presence of such an imposing figure, approached Dalton, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. He attempted to explain the situation, but Dalton cut him off before he could say much.
Putting one hand in his trousers pocket, Dalton raised his other finger to his lips, signaling for silence. “Don’t disturb me while I’m listening to the lesson,” he said, his voice low, almost melodic.
Victor froze. He was speechless. Here he was, the mighty overlord of Sorzada City, the one who controlled the wealth and power of families across Southdale, and yet he was standing in the background, listening to a lecture on acupuncture from a young woman. It was a strange juxtaposition—why would someone with Dalton’s status care about learning something like this?
Meanwhile, Wynter paused just before starting the lesson. “We need a human subject,” she announced, her voice carrying across the room.
A human subject?
Before Victor could react, Wynter’s gaze shifted once again, landing directly on Dalton. He was standing near the door, seemingly unaware that he had become the focal point of her lecture. And just like that, her eyes settled on him, the very scion of the Yarwoods, who had, for some inexplicable reason, captivated her attention.
“Mr. Yarwood,” Wynter said coolly, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “Would you be willing to volunteer as my subject?”
Dalton’s expression didn’t change, but there was a momentary flicker in his eyes, as if intrigued by the challenge.
