Medical Fragrance

Name: Medical Fragrance
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Brielle Ketiminasa

Modern | Ongoing

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Is it really such a big deal to remove your clothes for a medical exam? Dr. Nathaniel Cross didn't think so-until a fiery, blushing beauty accused him of crossing the line. Known across the city as the miracle doctor with healing hands and a mysterious past, Nathaniel isn't your typical physician. With skills that defy logic and intuition that borders on the supernatural, he's made it his mission to heal women in pain-body, mind, and soul. But healing comes with unexpected side effects. Because while Dr. Cross mends their wounds, he unknowingly captures their hearts. Now, caught between duty and desire, science and secrets, Nathaniel must navigate a growing storm of temptation, emotion, and the shadows of powerful forces watching his every move. He's mastered medicine... but is he ready for the one woman he can't cure-or resist?**

Suspense Fantasy First love CEO Attractive

Chapter 5 The Perfect Man

Yesterday 16:57

Chapter 1 A Betrayed Promise

Graham Marcus sat rigidly on the edge of the leather sofa, his dark eyes darting around the opulent estate of the Aldridge family. Crystal chandeliers dripped light across marbled floors, and gilded frames of ancestors long gone stared down from the walls. But Graham was distracted-his mind spiraled in a quiet thrill of anticipation.

"I don't even know what my fiancée looks like," he thought, watching servants bustle about. "Growing up in the mountains, all I saw were women in dusty old magazines Master kept hidden in his trunk. But now? Real women. Real beauty. And this Aldridge girl-she's supposed to be mine. My future wife. So, technically, I can touch her, right?"

Moments later, a man and a young woman descended the grand staircase.

The man was short and stout, perhaps in his fifties, with thinning hair and calculating eyes. The girl, tall and striking, had the sharp angles and icy elegance of a sculpture. She carried herself with the aloof grace of someone accustomed to admiration-and not shy about expecting it.

Graham's gaze swept over her, admiration flickering in his eyes. "Damn," he thought. "If this is who my father arranged for me, he had excellent taste. No wonder Master always said my father was a visionary. From nothing to king of Crestwood-guess he had a sharp eye for everything."

Wesley Aldridge approached with exaggerated warmth. "You must be Graham Marcus! You look just like your father-God rest his soul. I knew it was you the moment I saw you."

He launched into a rehearsed tale, his voice full of false nostalgia. "Such a tragedy. Your mother's accident. Your father's collapse after the business failed. You were barely four. I meant to take you in myself, but they said some old doctor whisked you away to the mountains. It's been what-sixteen years? And now you're back. It's fate."

Despite sensing the man's insincerity, Graham bowed politely. "Master raised me well. We've been secluded for years, but he always hoped I'd return and fulfill my father's last wish. I appreciate your concern, Uncle Wesley."

Wesley chuckled and gestured to the girl. "This is my daughter, Claire. Claire, why don't you greet your cousin?"

Claire offered a half-hearted glance. "Hey."

Graham smiled politely. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."

Claire's lips curled ever so slightly in disdain.

Wesley quickly jumped in. "Graham, now that you're back, we'll take care of you. After dinner, I'll get you started at my company. We'll find you something manageable."

The tone was generous, but the words felt like a leash.

Still, Graham held firm. "Uncle Wesley, my master sent me here not for a job, but to honor a promise-to marry Claire."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Wesley's smile faltered.

"Yes, well... that was arranged a long time ago. People change. Girls these days aren't fond of arranged marriages. I assumed... perhaps we should rethink things."

Graham's voice dropped a degree. "Are you saying you want to annul the engagement?"

Wesley hesitated, then nodded. "Plenty of lovely girls in Crestwood, son. I'd be happy to introduce you. Claire's already being courted by some very promising young men from established families. This is for your own good."

Graham's jaw tightened. "So you think I'm not good enough for her? Because I was raised poor?"

Before Wesley could respond, Claire's voice rang out, sharp and venomous. "You're nobody. No name, no money, no connections. An orphan with nothing to offer. Why would I marry you?"

Graham's heart thundered. His fists clenched. Every insult cut deep-not just at him, but at the memory of his parents.

Wesley's tone chilled. "I'm being generous, Graham. I honored the past by meeting you, but this marriage is off. If you want a future, work for it. Earn it. And never speak of this arrangement again."

Graham stood, fury simmering beneath his skin. "I'm not asking to marry into wealth. I came to fulfill a promise my father made with your family-a promise made when he helped you in your hour of need. Or have you forgotten that it was my father who saved your business from ruin?"

Wesley's face darkened. "That was then. You don't belong here anymore."

Graham's voice was icy. "Then I have no business here. Forget I ever called you Uncle. And remember-my father started from nothing, just like me. Don't underestimate the poor. We tend to surprise you."

He turned and stormed out. Claire rolled her eyes and muttered, "As if I'd marry a nobody like him."

But Wesley watched Graham leave with unease in his eyes. "He's got his father's eyes. That fury... that ambition. If he's anything like Victor Marcus, we might've just made ourselves a very dangerous enemy."

Claire scoffed. "Seriously? That guy?"

Wesley shook his head. "I may be overthinking it... but if he really is a threat-then we might have to remove him. Permanently."

A cold gleam of intent flickered in his eyes.

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Graham stepped out into the cool night, the Aldridge estate glowing behind him like a monument to betrayal. He pulled out an old, battered phone and dialed a number.

On the other end, a grizzled voice groaned. "Kid, it's the middle of the night. What happened? She too ugly, or too prude to let you get a feel?"

Graham let out a breath, the pain still raw in his chest. "They broke the engagement, spat on my father's memory, and called me worthless. I don't care about Claire. But I won't let them insult my parents. Not now. Not ever."

The old man went silent. Then he said quietly, "Then it's time, boy. You know what to do."

Graham's eyes burned with purpose as he stared into the night.

"It's war."