Nathan Prescott's eyebrow arched, a playful glint in his eyes. "You ignored their calls. How can you be sure it wasn't something urgent?"

Alexander Blackwood scowled, irritation flashing across his face. "We're here for a professional consultation, not your jokes."

Theodore Whitmore smirked, adjusting his glasses. "And what exactly do you need help with? Foolish decisions, reckless behavior, or just plain paranoia?"

Victoria Langley's breath hitched, her fingers tightening around her purse strap. The flush creeping up her neck betrayed her nerves.

The old doctor's gaze sharpened, zeroing in on her. "Miss, your pulse is elevated, breathing shallow... Nervous, are we?"

Victoria forced a brittle smile. "It's just... a bit warm in here. That's all."

Theodore leaned back, studying her with amusement. "Warm? You look perfectly healthy to me. Radiant, even." His eyes flicked between the three of them. "So, who's the patient here?"

Nathan scoffed. "You call yourself a doctor and can't even tell who needs help? Pathetic."

Theodore's lips curled. "Ah, the hotheaded one. Let me guess—frequent mood swings, digestive issues, poor sleep habits. Too much whiskey, too little restraint. Your liver must be weeping." He paused, letting the words settle before adding casually, "And let's not ignore the... performance concerns. Left untreated, well... Let's just say your future partner might find marriage rather... unfulfilling."

Nathan Prescott, the notorious playboy of Newhaven's elite, had always been magnetic. Not as classically striking as Alexander, but his roguish charm had won over countless women.

Before Victoria, he'd cycled through lovers faster than fashion trends. But since meeting her? Not a single glance elsewhere.

Even with society's most beautiful women throwing themselves at him, his loyalty never wavered.

Victoria had never returned his feelings, yet Nathan remained her fiercest protector, ready to dismantle anyone who dared slight her.

Her friends envied her—who wouldn’t want such devotion? And Victoria? She basked in it.

With his wealth and looks, he was the perfect backup plan if Alexander ever slipped from her grasp. Unlike Alexander, Nathan didn’t overthink. No wife, no children, no complicated strings.

But now...

A flaw.

Her subconscious step backward was telling. The flicker of disgust in her eyes even more so.

Was this why he chased her so relentlessly? Had the other women in their circle known? Was she just... convenient?

A man like him, going years without a partner? Unnatural.

The realization twisted in her gut.

Suddenly, standing near him felt suffocating.

Nathan's face burned crimson. He jabbed a finger at Theodore, voice sharp. "You're a fraud. Spouting nonsense!"

Theodore merely chuckled. "Denial won’t fix the problem, young man. You know it. I know it."

Then, Alexander—silent until now—spoke. "Doctor, what about me? What do you see?"