Chapter 67 Lothar. Saintville. The Horton Family. Alexander.
Elsa and Julian entered the consultation room and found a young man sitting casually on the examination desk, scrolling through his phone.
He was tall and dressed in expensive streetwear. An earring gleamed at one ear, a ring circled his little finger, and muted violet streaks ran through his layered hair.
A middle-aged man who looked like a butler stood beside him with his hands folded. Several bodyguards in dark suits and sunglasses waited behind them.
Julian approached the older man.
"Mr. Carter, the doctor for Young Master Moreau is here. Please wait outside."
The butler bowed to the young man.
"Young Master Moreau, we'll wait at the door."
Carter led the bodyguards out.
Raphael Moreau finally lowered his phone.
He braced both hands behind him on the desk and leaned back lazily.
His gray-brown eyes swept over Elsa without restraint.
"She looks like one of the antique vases on my grandfather's display shelf. Julian, are you sure she's a doctor?"
Elsa frowned.
No one had ever compared her to an antique vase before.
She wasn't sure whether it was meant as praise, but it certainly felt insulting.
Julian glanced at her awkwardly.
"Dr. Elsa Winters specializes in sleep disorders. If you're willing, she will be your primary physician from now on."
Raphael crooked one finger toward her.
"Expert. Come here."
Elsa didn't move.
"You're the patient and I'm the doctor. If you can't manage basic mutual respect, find someone else."
The human body was complicated. Treating chronic insomnia required cooperation from the patient.
This man looked difficult enough from across the room.
If she didn't establish boundaries immediately, she would never be able to work with him.
Raphael clearly wasn't used to being refused.
He hopped off the desk with exaggerated surprise and walked toward her.
His height created instant pressure as he stood over her, hands on his hips.
"You're even more arrogant than I am. What do your parents do?"
At close range, Elsa studied his mixed features and found herself thinking, for the first time, that a man could be prettier than most women.
Alexander's appeal was sharply masculine—controlled strength and an unmistakable physical presence.
Raphael was different.
There was something almost androgynous about his beauty.
Striking.
And dangerous.
Elsa met his gray-brown eyes.
"Are you here for treatment or not?"
Raphael pointed at Elsa, then at himself, then turned in a full circle and looked at Julian.
"She's a doctor and she dares talk to me like this?"
Julian hesitated.
"Dr. Winters is Mrs. Horton's wife."
Raphael blinked.
"Which Horton?"
"Lothar. Saintville. The Horton family. Alexander Horton."
"Huh."
Then another laugh.
And another.
Raphael stared at Elsa with such amusement that goosebumps rose along her arms.
Elsa had no desire to be connected to Alexander anymore, but Julian had already said it. Correcting him now would only derail the appointment.
Raphael's gaze remained on her.
"Fine. I'll take the treatment."
He pointed toward her.
"If you cure me, I'll become your walking advertisement. If you don't and you waste time while my condition gets worse..."
Raphael laughed again.
I'll make your husband pay, he finished silently.
Elsa answered carefully.
"I can treat you, but you must cooperate."
She had no idea why hearing she was Mrs. Horton had suddenly made him agreeable.
But she needed recognition in this field, and an opportunity like this was too rare to waste.
Raphael nodded.
"One hundred percent cooperation."
Elsa immediately ordered a full physical examination.
After Raphael left the room, Julian spoke quietly.
"The Moreau family is old European money. Raphael is the youngest grandson. He's suffered from severe insomnia for three years and has seen specialists around the world."
He looked at Elsa seriously.
"If you cure him, you'll become known overnight and establish a place for yourself internationally in sleep medicine."
Elsa accepted the challenge.
"I'll do everything I can."
They left the consultation room and passed a patient room where a television was playing financial news.
Alexander was being interviewed on screen.
Immaculate in a suit, calm and gentlemanly, he looked like the kind of man the public would trust without hesitation.
A trace of irony touched Elsa's mouth.
Who would imagine that such an accomplished man could keep his first love and what everyone believed was their child outside his marriage, then calculate every advantage against his own wife without visible guilt?
Elsa looked away and kept walking.
Alexander had just finished the interview when Serena called.
At ten that morning, they met at a café.
Alexander glanced around.
"Didn't you say Ethan was crying because he wanted to see me? Where is he?"
Serena lowered her head guiltily.
"I'm sorry. I remembered the schedule wrong. Ethan has handwriting class today. I just dropped him off."
Alexander frowned.
When he showed no intention of going upstairs, Serena hurried to explain.
"I know meeting privately can create misunderstandings. That's why I reserved a private room upstairs. There's something I need to discuss with you alone."
After a moment, Alexander followed her.
The server brought coffee and closed the door behind him.
Serena spoke calmly.
"Alexander, I'll tell you the truth. My brother and his wife were afraid Ethan and I would become their burden. They bought a home outside Saintville and left. They abandoned my mother for me to support."
Alexander's face cooled.
"Where are you staying now?"
"I've been in a small hotel with Mom and Ethan for the past two days. But don't worry. I've already rented a place near Ethan's school. I won't trouble you."
Alexander took out a bank card and placed it in front of her.
"Use this to buy a home in your own name. You'll feel more secure."
Serena refused immediately.
"Alexander, your mother was right. You and your wife haven't divorced. I have no proper right to use your money. It isn't fair to her."
She continued, "I've signed with a social-media agency. I start work in a few days. From now on, I'll support Ethan and myself. I'll depend on my own income and try not to cause you trouble."
Alexander watched her in silence, the card still on the table.
Serena sighed.
"You've already done so much for Ethan and me. I can't stand by and watch you truly divorce your wife because of us. If that happened, I'd never forgive myself."
The stiffness in Alexander's face eased.
For reasons he couldn't name, something inside him relaxed.
"Serena, this isn't your fault. Don't carry that burden."