Anne’s cheeks flushed, heat rising to her face as her thoughts flashed to the ti she and Augustine had spent in the hot spring. "No, I think... I’m just not used to the climate yet," she said softly, trying to compose herself.
"Hmm." Ronan gave a knowing chuckle as he took her wrist and checked her pulse. Then he reached for his thermoter and took her temperature before placing the stethoscope against her chest.
"Deep breath," he instructed.
Anne inhaled slowly, then let the breath out.
"Good," Ronan turned to Augustine. "Nothing serious. Likely just fatigue and mild heat stress. I’ll prescribe so dication—nothing heavy."
He scribbled a few nas onto his prescription pad, tore off the page, and handed it to Augustine.
"Let her take these for five days," he said. "She’ll be fine. Call if anything changes."
"Thank you, Ronan," Augustine replied sincerely. "I’ll walk you out."
As the two n stepped out of the room, Anne shut her eyes. Her head still pounded. She pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to ease the pressure.
A while later, Augustine returned to the room.
"Johnson is on his way with the dicine," he said, walking over to the bed. "In the anti, let help with your headache."
He sat down and gently placed his hands on her forehead, applying just the right amount of pressure in soothing circles, easing the tension from her temples.
"Mmm..." Anne let out a soft sigh, her eyes slipping closed. "You are amazing at this... If you keep doing that, my headache might actually disappear."
"Then I’ll keep going."
Anne’s eyes fluttered open. "Where did you learn to do this? From Ronan?" A playful glint flashed in her eyes.
Augustine smirked, eyes twinkling with amusent. "I’m a man of many talents. An all-rounder. I can do anything."
Anne giggled, her spirits lifting. "Well, Ronan seems cheerful and kind. I like him."
Augustine’s fingers stilled for a beat, his expression tightening. "You like Ronan?" he grunted, feigning offense. "How dare you say that in front of ? I’m still very much alive, you know."
She burst into laughter. "Oh my God, you are so cute. Don’t be jealous—I only love you. I was just being nice. He seems like a good guy. Isn’t he your friend?"
Augustine relaxed, resuming the gentle massage. "Yeah, he is," he said. "I’ve known him since my fight club days. Lucien assigned him as my personal doctor back then. After I quit, he stayed in my circle. Now he runs his own hospital now, right in the heart of the city."
"Wow," Anne’s eyes widened, "and still, he ca to check on with just one phone call!"
"Of course," Augustine replied with a proud smile. "He is a friend. Besides, he owes and Lucien."
"Owes you?" Anne raised a brow, intrigued. "What happened?"
"Ronan is a gifted doctor," he started. "His skills caught the wrong kind of attention. Years ago, a mafia gang kidnapped him. They wanted him to treat their wounded boss. Once he did, they didn’t let him go. He was stuck with them, patching up gangsters. He was like a prisoner there."
Anne stared at him speechlessly.
"Lucien found him during one of his operations," Augustine continued. "Got him out, brought him into our circle. Lucien assigned him to as my personal doctor. We beca friends after that. Later, when he dread of opening his own hospital, I invested and helped him get it off the ground. I own the largest share in that hospital now."
"Hmm," Anne let out a low hum, just like Augustine used to do. "So that’s how you operate. Strategic. Calculated. I see now how you’ve built your empire. You find talent, take the risk, and always end up with the bigger slice."
Augustine smirked. "What can I say? I make good deals."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping with mischief. "Also sounds like you are not feeling that headache anymore..." His eyes glinted with intent. "Let’s play for a while," he whispered.
He dipped his head further, his lips hovering just above hers. Just as their lips were about to et, the door knocked.
"Sir, I brought the dicine," ca Johnson’s voice from outside.
Augustine’s face fell into a scowl of annoyance. "Seriously? He had to show up right now? Can’t he co a minute later?"
Anne pressed her lips together, her body trembling as she struggled to hold in a laugh. The corners of her mouth twitched as she glanced up at him.
"Co in," Augustine called out, straightening his posture.
The door creaked open, and Johnson stepped in, holding a paper bag. He placed it neatly on the side table before turning toward Augustine.
"Sir, Gustave is here. He wants to see you."
Only then did Augustine recall the call from earlier. Gustave had ntioned sothing about docunts needing urgent attention. In the chaos of the day, it had slipped his mind.
"Hmm," he responded with a nod. "Tell him to wait in the study."
Johnson gave a slight bow and exited quietly.
Turning back to Anne, Augustine reached into the bag and pulled out a strip of tablets. "Now, let’s take your dicine."
He popped one pill from the blister pack and handed it to her, then picked up the glass of water waiting on the table.
Anne pushed herself up slowly, took the tablet, and slipped it onto her tongue. She reached for the glass. With a sip, she swallowed it down and handed the glass back to him.
"Good." Augustine gently adjusted the blanket around her. "Rest now. I’ll go talk to Gustave. If you need anything, just call ."
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before he walked out of the room.
Anne closed her eyes, her body finally beginning to relax. The chaos of the previous night—the gunfire, the fire, the fear—still lingered like smoke in her mind, but it no longer suffocated her.
For the first ti in hours, the weight on her chest began to lift.
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