The doctor raised his hands in surrender, his face pale and his breathing fast. The syringe in his hand trembled, and he quickly set it down on the nearby table, his movements stiff and nervous. “Don’t shoot,” he said, his voice shaky. “Please, I don’t want any trouble.”
Damian stepped closer, his gun steady as he pointed it at the man. The room was dimly lit, and the shadows danced on the walls from the rain outside. Damian’s eyes were cold and filled with rage, his jaw clenched tight. “Trouble found you the second you got involved in this,” he growled.
The doctor swallowed hard, his wide eyes darting between Damian and the gun. “I~I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered. “I’m just a doctor. I don’t want any part of this.”
“Cut the crap,” Damian snapped, slamming his hand on the table, making the syringe roll slightly. “You know exactly why I’m here. Who sent the poison?”
The doctor hesitated, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. “I… I don’t know,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Damian’s patience snapped. He grabbed the doctor by the collar and shoved him against the wall. The man yelped, his hands scrambling to push Damian off, but it was no use. Damian’s strength and fury were unmatched.
“Don’t lie to me!” Damian roared, his face inches from the doctor’s. “The poison came from you. The informant said you have the antidote. Where is it?”
The doctor’s lips quivered, his eyes welling with tears. “I~I have it,” he admitted quickly, his words spilling out. “But it wasn’t my choice! They forced me! Please, I’m just trying to stay alive!”
Damian’s grip loosened slightly, but his glare didn’t soften. “Who forced you?” he demanded.
“I don’t know his name,” the doctor said, his words tumbling out. “A man tall, dark eyes, mean-looking. He works for someone powerful. I don’t ask questions. I just do what I’m told.”
Damian’s mind raced as he processed the description. It didn’t give him much to work with, but it was clear the doctor was hiding something. He shoved the man away and stepped back, keeping his gun trained on him.
“Where’s the antidote?” Damian asked coldly.
The doctor scrambled to the table, his hands fumbling as he picked up a small vial filled with a clear liquid. He held it out to Damian, his fingers trembling. “This is it,” he said, his voice barely audible. “This will neutralize the poison.”
Damian snatched the vial from his hand, inspecting it closely. The liquid inside was clear and unassuming, but something about the doctor’s behavior made him uneasy.
“You’re lying,” Damian said, his voice low and dangerous.
The doctor shook his head frantically. “No, no! I swear it’s the antidote! Please, take it and leave. I don’t want any part of this anymore.”
Damian stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied the man. “How do you know the informant?”
The doctor froze, his lips pressing together tightly. His hesitation spoke volumes.
“You don’t want to answer?” Damian growled. “Fine. Maybe I should make you.” He raised the gun, aiming it directly at the doctor’s head.
“Wait! Wait!” the doctor cried, raising his hands again. “I~I know him. He… he’s the one who brought me the poison in the first place!”
Damian’s heart sank, though his expression didn’t falter. “He told me you owed him a favor,” he said through gritted teeth. “He said you were the only one who could help.”
The doctor shook his head, his voice panicked. “He’s lying! He’s working with Lucas!”
The room went still. Damian’s stomach churned at the mention of Lucas’s name, but he kept his composure. “What does Lucas have to do with this?”
The doctor hesitated again, his eyes darting to the side. “I don’t know much,” he admitted. “Only that Lucas wanted to hurt you. The poison… it was meant to send a message.”
“And this antidote?” Damian said, holding up the vial.
“It’s real!” the doctor insisted, his voice rising in desperation. “I wouldn’t lie about that. Please, believe me.”
Damian didn’t lower the gun. He couldn’t trust anyone, especially not someone as cowardly as the man in front of him. His mind raced, piecing together what he knew. The informant had seemed too eager to help, and now it was clear he had been playing both sides.
“If you’re lying,” Damian said, his voice icy, “I’ll be back. And you’ll wish you’d never met me.”
The doctor nodded frantically, sweat dripping down his face. “I swear, it’s real! Just… just leave me out of this!”
Damian pocketed the vial and backed toward the door, keeping his gun trained on the doctor. “Pray you’re telling the truth,” he said before slipping into the shadows of the hallway.
Outside, the rain continued to pour as Damian climbed into his car, gripping the vial tightly. His knuckles were white, and his chest heaved with anger and frustration. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that the pieces didn’t quite add up.
The informant had seemed too smooth, too calculated. The doctor’s fear felt real, but Damian couldn’t ignore the possibility of betrayal.
As he drove back toward the mansion, his mind churned with doubt. If the antidote was fake, it could cost Aurora her life. If it was real, he needed to act fast.
He pressed harder on the gas, the tires skidding slightly on the wet road. Aurora’s face flashed in his mind, her fear, her defiance, her vulnerability. He couldn’t lose her-not like this.
The storm raged on as Damian sped through the city, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He had enemies on all sides, lies and betrayal closing in like a noose. But one thing was certain: he would do whatever it took to save Aurora.
No matter the cost.